Category: English

Before I died, I made one last phone call. It was hung up by Ethan. He was currently holding another woman, cherishing her like a priceless treasure. That woman was already showing her pregnancy. My mother-in-law was calling her “sweetheart” with every breath, slipping a family heirloom bracelet onto her wrist. Ethan looked at her, his eyes filled with gentle indulgence. What a heartwarming, loving picture. Fortunately, their happiness was about to be shattered. Because the news of my death would soon reach them. 1 Floating in the air, I saw my body curled up in the snowy yard of my childhood home, confirming one thing—I was already dead. Maybe it takes a few days for the soul to dissipate. I comforted myself. The phone on the ground flashed a few times; it was Ethan calling. To be precise, it was him calling me back. The phone kept flashing until it shut down due to the cold protection feature. Ethan, it’s too late to call back now. I can no longer answer. 2 Originally, I had planned to die quietly. But at that moment, the snow fell so gently, and the creaking of the swing sounded too much like when Ethan used to push me high into the air when we were kids. I suddenly wanted to say a proper goodbye to him. He still didn’t know I had cancer. But when I called, he hung up immediately. I paused, then opened Mia’s Instagram. Sure enough. She had posted a new video. In the mansion Ethan had bought for her, Ethan and his mother surrounded her, pampering and protecting her. The caption read: Help, I’m being spoiled silly! (Crying laughing emoji) I put my phone down, not wanting to see the scene of Ethan showing affection to someone else anymore. My stomach knotted, and a sharp pain surged again. I fell to my knees, coughing up mouthfuls of blood. The pristine snow was instantly dyed a bright red. I struggled to get up and sat back on the swing. Seriously, I was just making myself miserable right before I died. Old people, old things, old scenery. He now holds a new love; why would he want to see these things that have long since faded away? So in the end, I didn’t say goodbye to him. 3 I looked around the small yard, which was full of memories. Dilapidated and desolate. Only the cold wind swept through. My grandparents had passed away long ago, and Ethan and I had moved away long ago too. No one took care of this place. Except for the swing I was sitting on, everything else was broken bricks and shattered tiles, nothing like it was when we were kids. The scenery is not what it used to be, and neither are the people. I laughed self-deprecatingly. The swing swayed back and forth. In the quiet yard, the only sound was the occasional rustle of snow sliding off the oak tree. In a daze, I heard my grandmother’s affectionate call: “Emma, Ethan, come eat roasted marshmallows!” Over the fire, the white marshmallows were roasted until they were fragrant, soft, and gooey. Ethan broke off a piece, blowing on it constantly because it was hot, dipped it in a small bowl of sparkling white sugar, and brought it to my mouth. “Quick, it’s best eaten while it’s hot.” The marshmallow was so good; I was so happy my eyes crinkled into crescents. Seeing me eat happily, the expectation in Ethan’s eyes turned into satisfaction. He was even happier than if he had eaten it himself, and patiently endured the heat to break off more pieces for me. The Ethan from back then was so good. He loved to spoil me the most. Every time he received snacks or toys from his parents, he would always bring them to me first. He held the snacks, looking proud. “Emma, give me a smile. Smile, and I’ll give it to you.” I wouldn’t humor him. I knew that no matter if I smiled or got angry, he would end up giving it to me anyway. If you had told me then that Ethan would one day protect another woman and let her slap me hard across the face… I probably would have cursed you out and called you crazy. 4 Ethan’s parents were busy with work, and my parents were busy getting divorced. So, we both became “left-behind” children, living with our grandparents. But because we had each other, we were never lonely. We dealt with the bad kids who called us “strays” together, walked home from school together, did our homework together, dozed off together on the desk, and then got woken up by a knock from my grandfather. In the winter when I was ten, I suddenly ran a high fever at night due to chickenpox. It happened that the older people in the town had all gone to a town hall meeting, and only Ethan was at my house keeping me company. Ignoring the risk of infection, Ethan braved the wind and snow, carrying me on his back in the middle of the night to the hospital in town. I was delirious with fever, whimpering miserably on his back. He just kept comforting me. “Emma, don’t be afraid. We’ll be at the hospital soon. Once we get to the hospital and you take your medicine, you won’t feel bad anymore…” He was only twelve at the time. The boy’s back was still very slender, but he gritted his teeth and carried me for miles, never letting go of my arms once. All around was a desolate, endless expanse of snow. I hugged his neck, listening to his voice, feeling incredibly safe. So please forgive me; no matter how much he hurt me later, I couldn’t just casually let go and walk away. 5 It had been a few days, and my body was still lying quietly in the snow. I worriedly thought that if I was accidentally discovered, it might scare someone to death. Sigh, I originally thought that death would end all troubles, but I really didn’t expect to still have to worry about my own funeral arrangements. I decided to go find Ethan and see if I could tell him in a dream that I was dead. Maybe after I was buried, my soul would be able to disappear. I had no choice; there was no one else I could turn to. At least his name was still on the same marriage certificate as mine. Asking Attorney Vance to come collect my body wasn’t asking too much, right? Before leaving, I took one last look at the snowy ground. When I was fifteen, it was right here that Ethan confessed his feelings to me. On the night of the first snow, he knocked on my window and mysteriously said he had something to show me. I groggily stepped out in my pajamas, only to be wrapped in a warm, oversized coat by Ethan. Then, he carefully led me out into the snow. In the middle of the yard, there was a giant heart stamped out by footprints, neat and perfect. The snow reflected the moonlight, clear and bright. At that time, Ethan had already grown into a handsome young man. He was blushing, hesitating to speak. It wasn’t until I yawned and gestured that I was going back to sleep that Ethan got anxious and blurted out: “Emma Davis, I like you!” I was so spoiled by him at the time that I arrogantly lifted my chin. “Did you really have to go out of your way to tell me something so obvious?” Ethan was stunned for a few seconds, then, both annoyed and laughing, came over to tickle me. I laughed and curled up into a ball, responding to him between breaths. “I like you too, Ethan.” I still remember how Ethan looked then. He was happy but restrained, only knowing to hold my hand. His eyes were bright, looking at me unblinkingly, as if to etch this moment into his heart. Snowflakes fell slowly like confetti, landing on his fine hair and long eyelashes. The boy’s eyes were full of light, holding only me. For us back then, those feelings were a mutual, unspoken understanding; there was truly no need to say it out loud. 6 I floated back to the house Ethan and I shared. But to my surprise, Mia was there too. Ethan looked a bit irritable, pacing around the room. Finally, he stopped on the balcony, lit a cigarette, and his expression was obscured by the drifting smoke. This was Mia’s first time in our house. She curiously rummaged through the photos on the wall, the coasters on the dining table, and the blankets on the sofa. She took a round, white disc out of my fridge, poked it playfully, and laughed. “Is this plastic? It’s hard as a rock. Why is it in the fridge? How weird.” Ethan turned around: “That’s a mochi. It gets very soft when you roast it, wait—” But it was too late. Mia had already casually tossed it into the trash can. With a thud. I clenched my fists. If I had known that after my death, Mia would brazenly enter my home and rummage through my things, I would have burned the place down before I left! Mia stuck her tongue out apologetically: “Ah, my hand slipped. Ethan, you won’t blame me, right?” Ethan looked at the mochi lying in the trash can and remained silent for a moment. “Forget it, it’s not worth much. Emma can just buy more when she gets back.” Mia had innocent eyes, and when she acted coy, she was sweet and cute. Shaking Ethan’s arm, it was always easy to make people soften. The last time I heard her act like this, she was still calling him “Mr. Vance.” 7 At that time, Ethan was already a well-known partner at his law firm, still very busy, and I hadn’t broken the habit of bringing him food. One day when I brought food, he was in a meeting, so I left the thermos and departed. When I got outside, I realized my car keys had fallen out in the firm, so I went back to get them. I don’t know when their meeting ended, but outside Ethan’s office, I heard a girl complaining petulantly: “Why is it always the same few dishes? I’m so sick of them. Can’t she change the menu?” I suddenly pushed the door open. Ethan and Mia were sitting at the desk, sharing and criticizing the dinner I had painstakingly prepared for him. My tone was a bit stiff: “Ethan stays up late a lot, so this is a dietary menu specifically for him. I apologize for not preparing a separate portion for Assistant Mia.” Mia stuck her tongue out, looking at Ethan with a pitiful expression. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vance. I won’t be a picky eater ever again.” Ethan didn’t seem to realize anything was wrong and even tapped Mia on the head in a slightly scolding, yet affectionate, manner. “Emma is mature and sensible, she wouldn’t make a fuss over such a trivial matter. You think everyone is as childish as you?” 8 It wasn’t always like this. In the past, Ethan never demanded that I be “mature and sensible.” From childhood to our teenage years, from the old house’s yard to the bustling city, he always said that little Emma just needed to be carefree and happy; he would take care of everything. Until the year I turned seventeen. That year, Ethan’s family suffered a sudden misfortune. His father committed suicide after a business failure, and his mother cried all day. Reality abruptly shattered our romantic, naive youth. Ethan started working several jobs, and the financial and mental burden left him breathless. During one of our rare meetings, unable to hide his exhaustion, he forced a smile. “Emma, you need to be a little better-behaved now. I’m not by your side, so you need to take good care of yourself.” I felt a deep ache for him and thought it was time I treated him well. So, I stopped asking him to prepare surprises for me, stopped asking him to call me in the morning to wake me up, stopped asking him to travel so far to spend my birthday with me, and stopped asking him to do so much for me. To help him pay off his debts, I also took on two jobs. I knew he wouldn’t accept my help, so every month, I secretly transferred my salary and the living expenses I saved up to his mother. I only kept a tiny bit for myself, living on plain bread, greens, and free soup, even dreaming about eating braised pork. I remember my shift at the boba shop ended very late. On the way back, I was followed. I ran all the way to my dorm and only cried once I was inside, clutching my racing heart. I didn’t even realize I had sprained my ankle, and I limped alone for months until it healed. I never told him any of this. But Ethan still felt very guilty, always apologizing for making little Emma suffer with him. I said it’s okay, Ethan, life is long, you can just treat me well later. Ethan’s eyes were red. He placed my hand on his chest and rubbed it gently over and over. “Emma, never ever leave me, okay? I’ll treat you well for the rest of my life, I promise.” When he said this, his expression was so earnest it was almost obsessive. I had to believe him. How could I not believe him? 9 We agreed it would be a lifetime. But in just ten years, everything has turned upside down; the world has changed completely. He gave all the indulgence and love he had for me in his youth to another arrogant, smiling girl. Actually, I should have noticed it earlier. He no longer called me “Little Emma,” no longer spent time coaxing me. When he praised me for being understanding and considerate, there was actually a hint of regret in his eyes. Regretting that those innocent, carefree youth days had dimmed under the grind of life. 10 In fact, when Mia first joined the law firm, back when their relationship was innocent and there was no need for suspicion, Ethan often mentioned her to me. “There’s a new girl, she’s so mischievous, I really don’t know what to do with her.” When he said this, it sounded like he was annoyed, but his eyes were smiling. “Emma, she really reminds me of you when you were little. I don’t even have the heart to punish her.” Even so, I didn’t doubt him. Until Mia repeatedly crossed the line and provoked me. When the power went out in her apartment, she called Ethan crying; after getting drunk at a networking event, she clung to Ethan and wouldn’t let go, forcing him to take care of her all night; at the celebration party, she boldly smeared frosting on Ethan’s face and kissed him, causing their colleagues to gather around and cheer… Because of her, Ethan and I fought countless times. I threatened him with divorce to make him fire Mia. Ethan rubbed his temples, his tone annoyed: “Emma, Mia is just acting childish. You were just as naive in the past; you should be the most understanding. Why are you so intolerant of her? Firing a young girl for such a reason, what is she supposed to do in the future?” His eyes held deep disappointment, as if he didn’t recognize me anymore. “Emma, how did you become so harsh?” 11 In our frequent arguments, our relationship grew increasingly strained. I became depressed, suffering from insomnia night after night. Every time I was so exhausted I wanted to leave, the young Ethan would appear in my memories. He stood tall and slender in the snow, his hands warm, looking at me with eyes so pure and deeply affectionate. Is he still my Ethan? How could my Ethan bear to treat me like this? I couldn’t bear to leave him, so I had to doubt myself. Was I really just being paranoid? Are they innocent? Should I be more magnanimous? But no matter how much we fought, Ethan refused to get a divorce, and I couldn’t make up my mind either. We just stayed entangled like that. Until this midsummer, when I went to the hospital to get my test results. Coming out, I ran into Ethan. The elevator lobby was crowded. He had one arm around Mia’s waist and the other protecting her belly, afraid someone might bump into her. That careful cherishing stung my eyes so badly they ached. Through the crowd, clutching my stomach cancer diagnosis, holding a phone that was only emitting a busy signal, under the scorching 100-degree sun, no matter how deeply I breathed, my teeth chattered uncontrollably. That was the first time I saw them together with my own eyes. All my self-comfort and lingering hope were shattered in that instant. 12 The moment Ethan saw me, only panic and shock remained. I abandoned the “understanding and considerate” facade I had maintained all these years. I slapped the face I had once loved so deeply and tearfully demanded: “Is this the ‘innocence’ you told me about?” Before I could get an answer, Mia rushed forward and slapped me hard, leaving me dazed for a few seconds. With her petite body, she fiercely shielded Ethan. “What right do you have to hit him!” When we were kids, Ethan and I got into a lot of fights. Everyone knew that hitting Ethan wasn’t a big deal, but if you hit me, Ethan would fight you like a madman. I had never been hit like that before. Consumed by fury, by the time I came to my senses, I was already undignifiedly brawling with Mia. There were onlookers everywhere. Ethan tried to separate us. During the scuffle, Mia fell to the ground, crying out in pain. Ethan instinctively pushed me away, then tightly shielded Mia behind him. His tone was agitated: “Emma, it’s all my fault, but Mia is pregnant with my child. You’ll hurt her like this… Stop making a scene, okay?” My heart felt as if it had been brutally pierced by a sharp blade. Because of that one incident, I could no longer get pregnant. I thought this was a shared scar between Ethan and me, a painful point we avoided mentioning. It turned out I was the only one stuck in place. He already had his own new world. A sharp cramp twisted my stomach. My lips were also busted, the taste of blood filling my mouth. I vaguely remembered how, in the past, if I even accidentally bit my tongue, Ethan’s heart would ache for hours. We were surrounded by onlookers; some were gossiping, others had their phones out recording. Mia was fiercely protected, leaving me standing there completely defenseless, surrounded by camera lenses and rumors. At least you can cry, I thought to myself. But I desperately held back my tears. Don’t cry. Don’t add to the joke. Thank goodness the hospital security guards arrived to separate us. And took me away from the most humiliating and miserable place in my life. 13 That evening, Ethan came to find me. I locked the door and refused to open it. He sat down outside. Through the door, he kept talking, regardless of whether I was listening or not. “Emma, that child was an accident. I drank too much that night and mistook Mia for you.” “She looks so much like you. I couldn’t help but take care of her… but I truly never intended to betray you.” “It’s just that… Mia is an innocent young girl. She’s pregnant with my child. If I don’t take responsibility, how can she survive…” “I’m sorry, Emma. Wait until the baby is born. You can beat me or curse me all you want.” “When the time comes, I’ll give Mia a sum of money and send her abroad.” “Let’s just pretend we adopted a child, okay? That way, my mom won’t pressure you anymore.” “Emma, I will never divorce you.” “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” “Emma, wait for me.” … 14 Ethan came looking for me every day, and Mia wasn’t one to back down easily; she would always come and throw a massive tantrum. Perhaps the previous conflict had traumatized him, and he was afraid we would fight again. To ensure the baby’s safe delivery, he stopped coming to see me. Instead, he sent long messages every day, painting pictures of our future life together, trying to placate me. I drew all the curtains, hiding alone in the pitch-black room. Masochistically, I scrolled through Mia’s Instagram, looking at the public displays of affection she posted specifically for me to see. “Got leg cramps in the middle of the night. Thankfully, Mr. Vance massaged my legs all night.” “Finally got the limited-edition bag I’ve been obsessing over! Mr. Vance is the best!” “Some women are just bad luck, bringing misfortune to everyone around them. And they still wonder why their men leave them? Hilarious.” … Ethan was still eagerly sending me messages. “Emma, just wait a little longer for me.” He’s so funny. He seems to think he’s just going away for a while. And that I will wait for him right where I am, forever. Wait for what? Wait for the baby to be born, or wait for me to die? With the way I was living—drinking myself into a stupor, neglecting everything—my illness progressed incredibly fast. I probably wouldn’t make it to the baby’s one-month celebration. Looking back on this life. We had so many beautiful memories. But our last encounter was him protecting another woman and slapping me. 15 I floated around Ethan for these few days. I couldn’t visit him in a dream, but I saw that he had been looking for me constantly. He grew more and more anxious, not even staying with Mia anymore. He called my number every day, hoping to hear the connection tone. In the middle of the night, Ethan suddenly jolted awake. He muttered, “Emma, Emma… she must have gone back!” Ethan drove through the night, crossing the vast, snowy plains, traversing the small path where he used to carry me on his back, and finally arrived at our old house in the hometown at dawn. The yard was already crowded with people, all talking over each other: “So sad. How could someone die here…” “Still so young too…” “Coughing up so much blood, it must have been an agonizing death…” “She still has a phone in her hand. Who knows who she was calling…” 16 When Ethan hurriedly pushed through the crowd, he only saw my body, half-buried in the snow. His eyes instantly turned red. He tried desperately to pull me out, but the onlookers pulled him away. “Hey, buddy! What are you doing? We already called the police. The police said to protect the scene. You can’t go over there!” Ethan was held back tightly by several people, unable to move. From a few yards away, he stared at me blankly, his voice trembling: “Emma, don’t scare me… What did you do? Don’t scare me…” “Stop joking around with me. How could you…” That word “die” caught in Ethan’s throat repeatedly, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Emma, wake up…” “I’ll push you on the swing. Get up, okay?” “Please, get up…” Floating in the air, I sadly watched Ethan’s desperate screams echo through the sky. Ethan, am I really that important to you?

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The day my water broke, I lay dying on the freezing pavement, desperately dialing my husband’s number. On the other end of the line, he was throwing a lavish birthday bash for his first love. The background was filled with loud cheers and thumping music. He said, “Avery, drop the act. This little game of yours is getting old.” Then, he hung up. I died just like that, abandoned on a forgotten street corner. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my sophomore year of high school. The handsome, arrogant boy stood before me, his face flushed as he blocked my path at the school gates, asking me to be his girlfriend. Looking at the face that I once loved to the bone—the same face that personally condemned me to hell—I let out a cold laugh. “Get lost! If I ever hear something so disgusting out of your mouth again, you’ll regret it!” 1 The students of Lincoln High were secretly gossiping: Avery Davis, the ultimate “simp” who had chased Hunter Kingston for an entire year, had finally changed her tune. During morning homeroom, she didn’t drop off his favorite iced coffee. During basketball practice, she wasn’t waiting on the sidelines with Gatorade and a towel. Even at the library, she stopped going early to save him a seat. “She chased him for a year, and she’s just giving up like that?” “She’s probably just throwing a tantrum, waiting for Hunter to coax her.” “I bet she moved on. I heard the star quarterback from the rival prep school is after her.” Bang! Hunter irritably slammed his AP English textbook onto his desk, his face dark. “It’s homeroom! If you want to gossip, get the hell out!” Just as the words left his mouth, I walked into the classroom. The noisy room instantly went dead silent. Dozens of eyes locked onto me like searchlights. I walked straight to my desk, looking straight ahead, pulled out my chair, and sat down. When I opened my backpack, there were two bottles of premium cold-brew coffee inside. The housekeeper must have packed two out of habit, forgetting that I told her last night I only needed one for myself from now on. Hunter’s best friend, Brody, poked Hunter’s arm and whispered, “Avery is about to cave. I told you she couldn’t last three days.” Hunter’s eyes shifted, turning to look at me. But I, right in front of him, shoved both bottles onto my desk partner’s desk. “Here, my treat.” My desk partner, Maya, looked shocked. She pointed a trembling finger at herself. “For me?” I nodded. Then I opened my textbook and started reading quietly. Maya leaned over, whispering curiously, “Avery, why are you actually studying? Didn’t you usually spend homeroom staring at Hunter?” I didn’t even lift my head. “I want to test back into the Honors Program next semester.” I had originally gotten into this high school with the second-highest test scores in the district. But just to be placed in the same regular-track class as Hunter, I intentionally left half my placement test blank, dropping from the AP track down to the remedial level. But now, I had no reason to stay here. The thought of the man sitting behind me—the man who would become my husband in nine years, yet would leave me to die on the streets while he rolled around in his first love’s bed… He caused the child carrying his bloodline to die in the cold night before ever seeing the light of this world. I could never forgive him! So, I was going to severe this toxic connection with my own hands. At noon, Maya and I lined up in the cafeteria. The cafeteria worker handed me my favorite roasted chicken and smiled. “What are you getting for Hunter today? We have that baked salmon he likes.” I paused. Thinking back to my high school days, my pursuit of Hunter was pathetic and obsessive. I stuffed his locker full of love letters. I hijacked the microphone during a pep rally to confess my love to him. Because of me, even the cafeteria staff knew his favorite foods. In the past, I was the girl who would smash her head against a brick wall and refuse to turn back. Looking back now, it was nothing but a joke. I shook my head. “I’m not getting him anything.” I paused, then added, “I’m never getting him anything ever again.” The worker’s hand froze mid-air with the tongs. I grabbed Maya and walked away, accidentally bumping into Hunter at the end of the line. Our eyes met. He looked stunned, but I was the first to look away, brushing past him without a backward glance. Maya muttered, “Avery, what is going on with you? Why are you suddenly freezing Hunter out?” I sat down at a table, mixing dressing into my salad. “Nothing. I just realized that the way I was acting before was incredibly lame.” 2 Once I stopped revolving my life around Hunter, I realized how much free time I actually had. I could chat with the girls about the latest Netflix shows and share my favorite strawberry milkshakes. I could dig out the moldy worksheets shoved in the back of my desk and fill them out one by one. During breaks, I could even go behind the bleachers to feed the stray cats. Youth without constant anxiety and obsession was actually beautiful. A few days later, the school’s basketball tournament kicked off. The homeroom teacher asked the whole class to go to the gym to cheer. I remembered my past life. I had organized a cheer squad for Hunter and practiced a high-difficulty routine. Because of a botched stunt, I fell from the top of the pyramid, scraping up my arms and bloodying my knees. But when Hunter won the game, his eyes were only on his bros and the trophy. He didn’t even spare a glance for me lying in the nurse’s office. So this time, I faked severe cramps, got a pass, and stayed in the empty classroom to memorize SAT vocabulary. I would never do something so absurdly stupid ever again. Maya came back at halftime, out of breath. “Avery, Hunter is totally off his game today. His eyes keep drifting to the bleachers like he’s looking for someone.” She gave me a sly look. “Do you think he’s looking for you?” “No.” I calmly wrote down another vocabulary word. During this phase, Hunter practically had ‘I hate Avery’ tattooed on his forehead. Me not being there was giving him peace and quiet. While we were talking, the classroom door was violently pushed open. Brody practically dragged Hunter inside, yelling at me, “Avery! Don’t you keep that imported athletic pain relief spray in your locker? Get it out! Hunter twisted his ankle!” I used to keep a fully stocked first-aid kit specifically for Hunter, filled with expensive topical treatments. I subconsciously glanced at Hunter’s swollen ankle. In my past life, he won this game flawlessly and never got hurt. It seemed my absence had already altered the trajectory of events. “Avery, what are you spacing out for?!” Brody shouted anxiously. I snapped back to reality, my tone ice-cold. “It expired. I threw it away.” With that, I grabbed my water bottle and walked out to the water fountain, not giving him a single extra glance. Why should I care? The pain of dying on the street in my past life was ten thousand times worse than his little sprain. Why on earth should my heart ache for him? Behind me, Brody gasped in shock, while Hunter’s gaze felt like a dagger, staring so intensely at my back it could have burned a hole through it. 3 Hunter took two days off for his ankle. When my mom found out, she insisted I take a pot of her homemade chicken stew over to his house. Our families were close friends, and she had watched Hunter grow up. In the eyes of the adults, checking on him was basic etiquette. Despite my repeated refusals, I couldn’t win against my mom’s threats, and she even had our driver make sure I walked through the Kingstons’ front gates. Reluctantly, I carried the thermos into that familiar, sprawling white mansion. The setting sun cast a warm, yet incredibly irritating orange glow over the manicured lawn. I knew this place too well. In my past life, I had lived here with him for two years. Every corner was filled with my humiliation— Crying silently over his cold shoulder, yet forcing a smile to deal with his family. My chest tightened as if it were being ripped apart. I forced myself to calm down, opened the thermos, and poured the delicious stew into a dog bowl on the porch for the neighborhood stray. Such good food was wasted on him. Once the dog licked the bowl clean, I turned to leave. Just then, a deep voice called out from behind me. “Avery.” Hunter hobbled out on his crutches, looking a bit ridiculous, fine sweat beading on his forehead. He gritted his teeth. “What kind of tantrum are you throwing now?” I looked back at this boy—still young, yet full of arrogance. I curled my lips into a cold smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He blocked my path, breathing heavily, his face alarmingly pale. It was obvious those few steps had cost him a lot of effort. “Why are you ignoring me?” He stared at me intensely, trying to find a trace of my former obsession on my face. He pointed at the empty thermos. “That was for me, wasn’t it? Why did you feed it to a dog? In the past, when I told you to leave me alone, you’d cry and force your way in. Now I’m actually hurt, and you don’t say a single word. What exactly are you…” “Isn’t this better?” I cut him off coldly. “You always thought I was annoying anyway.” Hunter choked on his words, taking a long moment before snapping back. “Yeah! I don’t like you clinging to me! I’m thrilled you’re staying away!” He let out a mocking laugh. “Avery, you better not be playing hard to get. You know I hate that crap!” Playing hard to get? In my past life, to get his attention, I had done plenty of childish, stupid things. Even though I eventually married him, I never had his heart, and I ended up dying a miserable death. In this lifetime, I wouldn’t waste another second on him. “You think way too highly of yourself. I don’t have time to play games with you.” I turned around, my voice completely flat. “My mom forced the driver to bring me here with that soup. Just pretend you drank it, and don’t cause trouble for me.” Hunter’s eyes filled with disbelief. “Did you just compare me to a dog?!” I shrugged. “If that’s how you want to interpret it, be my guest.” I carried the empty thermos back to the car, leaving him yelling furiously behind me. “I didn’t want your garbage soup anyway!” 4 From that day on, Hunter and I never spoke again. I threw myself into my studies, determined to make it back to the Honors Program. Once I was back in AP classes, I wouldn’t have to see him every day. And when it came time for college, I wouldn’t purposely tank my applications to stay in the same city as him. I was going to move far away and never cross paths with him again. But catching up on the AP curriculum was tough, so my mom hired a tutor for me. Out of a pool of Ivy League prospects, I picked a guy from my school—the valedictorian of the Honors Program, Rowan Hayes. During our first meeting, I was straightforward. “I need to boost my grades as fast as possible and get back into Honors.” He was just as concise. “Leave it to me.” I started spending a lot of time with Rowan. I’d go to his classroom during breaks to ask about practice problems, and after school, we’d sit at a cafe near campus to study. Before long, new gossip circulated the school. They said the “epic simp” had switched targets and was now harassing the untouchable academic god. A group of Hunter’s fangirls even cornered me behind the gym after school one day. “Avery, stay away from Rowan! A remedial class loser like you doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as him.” The leader was a shot-put athlete, taller than me and aggressively glaring. I looked at them calmly. “Rowan is my hired tutor. I pay him, he teaches me. We have a strict employer-employee relationship.” “A tutor? Isn’t that just your excuse to hook up with him?” the girl sneered. “You couldn’t get Hunter, so you switched targets. You’re an embarrassment to girls everywhere!” “Yeah, disgusting. Don’t ruin Rowan’s future!” I was about to argue back when a long, slender hand suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind him. Rowan, wearing a simple white button-down, stood in front of me. His broad, athletic shoulders looked incredibly dependable. Seeing Rowan, the aggressive girls instantly dropped their act. “Rowan, don’t let her trick you. She’s a manipulative bitch trying to use you…” “She is my boss.” Rowan interrupted them coldly, his grip on my wrist tightening. “She pays my salary. Anyone who messes with my paycheck, I mess with them.” Dead silence. Rowan ignored them and pulled me away. Once we were a safe distance away, he turned around and looked me over carefully. “Did they hurt you?” I shook my head. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” He looked down at me, suddenly nervous. “You… you’re not going to fire me over this, are you? I promise no one will bother you again.” He paused, then added, “If you’re not mad, I’ll do your classroom chores for you. How about it, Avery?” The clean, crisp scent of cedarwood on him made me space out for a second. I thought he was pretty amusing, so I nodded.

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My dad bought me a massive mansion. I thought it was way too flashy and would ruin my image as the down-to-earth, minimalist “campus goddess.” So, after visiting it once, I just left it sitting there empty. A month later, a freshman girl joined our college club. She claimed the mansion was hers. She also claimed her dad was a billionaire. Looking at this tacky, awkward freshman, I fell deep into thought. 1 I am the president of the Art Society at our university. Art is supposed to be about talent. I didn’t want people thinking I was just a rich kid buying my way in. So, I never told anyone that my dad is actually a billionaire. Originally, I planned to keep my identity under wraps, enjoy being the “campus goddess,” and date my handsome, ambitious boyfriend. Then one day, a tacky, awkward freshman walked into the club room, surrounded by a group of eager students. She announced that her dad was a billionaire! My first thought was, Did the Forbes list change overnight? Until she pulled up a photo of my dad, Richard Sterling, on her phone, held it next to her face, smiled sweetly, and said, “I take after my dad.” I was stunned. I immediately called my dad, demanding to know when I got a sister! My dad swore on our ancestors’ graves that I was his one and only daughter, and only then did I believe him. “Your dad is Richard Sterling?” I asked her, sounding skeptical. “That’s right. I’m his only daughter, Chloe Sterling,” she said, without a hint of shame. I felt a surge of anger rising in my chest. Does Richard Sterling know he has a daughter like you? But I decided not to expose her right away. I wanted to see what she was trying to achieve by stealing my identity. “Aria, let Chloe join the club. She said she might let us have a BBQ at her mansion this weekend,” said Liam, a club member, happily shaking Chloe’s arm. “Sure, let me see your student ID so I can register you.” I held my hand out to Chloe. Chloe hesitated for a moment but handed over her ID. I flipped it open and looked at her birthplace. It clearly said: Omaha, Nebraska. I was confused. “Isn’t the billionaire from New York? Why does your ID say Omaha, Nebraska?” Chloe was quick on her feet and smooth: “My family’s roots are in Nebraska, we just live in New York now.” What Nebraska?! Our family has been in New York for generations! She was banking on the fact that no one would actually check, so she felt confident spewing lies. My dad values privacy and has always kept our family’s information strictly confidential, which gave Chloe the perfect opportunity to exploit. “Did you say you’re taking everyone to your mansion for a BBQ this weekend?” I asked, looking up from the registration form. A flash of pride crossed Chloe’s eyes. “Yep. My dad bought me a mansion in Beverly Hills, not far from campus, so I can stay there whenever I want.” A bad feeling flashed through my mind. Could the mansion she was talking about be the one my dad bought me a month ago? I had checked it out once. It was grand, sure, but it was too big. I felt creeped out thinking about living there alone, and the decor was way too ostentatious for my taste, so I just left it empty. How did it suddenly become hers? The club members excitedly crowded around Chloe: “A billionaire’s mansion! Can I really go?” “Chloe, count me in! I want to go too.” … Chloe didn’t turn anyone down, smiling generously: “Anyone who wants to come is welcome.” She was met with unanimous cheers from the club. I sneered internally. The front gate of the mansion requires facial recognition and a fingerprint scan. The system only has my information in it. I’d love to see how Chloe plans to get past the front door. 2 My boyfriend, Ethan, asked me to meet him for lunch at the dining hall. Ethan is the president of the Student Government. He comes from an average background, but he’s handsome, capable, driven, and accommodates me 100%. We’ve been dating for two years. I was incredibly satisfied with him and had decided that after a little more time, I’d bring him home to meet my parents. “Ethan, do you know about Richard Sterling’s daughter?” I was planning to slowly reveal my identity to him. He took a bite of his food and looked at me, surprised: “You mean the freshman, Chloe?” I choked, almost inhaling my food. Ethan quickly patted my back, scolding me affectionately: “Why are you still eating like a kid? You always choke.” I didn’t expect even Ethan to have heard this fake news… This put me in a very passive position. I thought for a few seconds and decided that before exposing Chloe, I shouldn’t reveal that I am Richard Sterling’s daughter, lest Ethan think I’m joking. “Yeah, that Chloe.” “I haven’t interacted with her, I don’t know her well.” I figured as much. Ethan is a straightforward guy, why would he know anything about Chloe? So, I dropped the subject. Ethan was busy and left in a hurry right after eating. I didn’t have anything planned for the afternoon, so I stayed seated, eating slowly. While I was eating, someone suddenly sat down in the seat across from me. I thought it was Ethan coming back. I looked up, and it was Chloe. “Aria, so President Ethan is your boyfriend?” Chloe sat down, offering a haughty smile, and said, “I’ve got my eye on him. You should step aside gracefully. Name your price.” My upbringing told me: keep a low profile, never show off. As the actual daughter of a billionaire, I have never said anything this arrogant in my twenty years of life. Today, I heard it from the mouth of a fraud. I let out a cold laugh, full of malice: “Oh? Tell me, what kind of price can you afford?” Chloe said haughtily: “You’re a junior, right? When you graduate, I can recommend you for a job at Sterling Enterprises.” Chloe held up seven fingers. “Your annual salary will have this many figures.” “That’s it?” I laughed. “So you’re saying you can’t offer anything tangible right now, and you just want to make empty promises?” Chloe didn’t back down. “Aria, I hope you can look at the bigger picture and not just focus on petty, short-term gains.” Her condescending attitude disgusted me. I looked her up and down, scrutinizing her from head to toe, and then said quietly: “You say you’re the heiress of the Sterling family. I don’t believe you.” I saw her pupils contract sharply, but she quickly regained her composure. “Whether I’m the Sterling heiress or not, you’ll see for yourself when I take you to the mansion this weekend.” “Who says having a mansion proves you’re Richard Sterling’s daughter?” I scoffed. “Maybe you rented it.” I stood up, walked behind her, and twirled a strand of her hair. I whispered: “Your hair was just done. You got a gloss treatment, it looks shiny, but your hair texture is actually terrible. You haven’t taken care of it much in the past, have you?” I dragged my index finger across the back of her hand: “You got a manicure, and you even put foundation on your hands to make them look refined. But your fingers are thick, like someone who does manual labor constantly. Does the Sterling heiress usually do heavy lifting?” I pinched her shirt: “Your clothes and jewelry are designer, carefully curated, but they completely clash with your vibe. Your whole look is just awkward. Could it be… you stole these clothes?” Chloe, who was already feeling guilty, completely snapped at the word “stole.” She threw out a “You’re crazy!” and fled without looking back. I laughed. Could she really be a thief? 3 Ethan’s family wasn’t well off. When we first got together, he was skinny and pale. Later, I accompanied him to the gym and took him out to eat better food. I even personally bought his daily necessities, clothes, and accessories. Watching him transform into a suave, handsome guy, mistaken for a rich kid by our classmates, and secretly crushed on by other girls, filled me with a sense of accomplishment. I was confident that Ethan only had eyes for me. Not to mention this fake Chloe was tacky and awkward, and her lies couldn’t stand up to scrutiny. Even if she were the real billionaire’s daughter, I was confident Ethan would choose me over her. Therefore, I didn’t take Chloe’s provocation seriously at all. After all, this clown would be exposed once the weekend arrived. Why bother getting upset? That night, a video of my conversation with Chloe in the dining hall was posted on the campus forum. “Campus Goddess vs. Billionaire Heiress: Cast your vote! Who will win the handsome president?” The post was pinned, and the number of votes skyrocketed in a short period. To my absolute shock, the number of votes for Chloe far exceeded the votes for me. I scrolled through the comments. Someone said, “Given the choice between a beautiful girl and saving 30 years of hard work, I choose the latter.” Another said, “In the face of capital, beauty is worthless.” … Are people really this materialistic? It made hiding my true identity feel incredibly stupid. And are people really this blind? Chloe’s disguise was obviously fake. Why couldn’t anyone see it? I refused to give up and kept scrolling, finally finding a rational comment. ID, Caleb: “Based on Chloe’s age, and calculating the timeline of Mrs. Sterling’s pregnancy, the dates don’t match up at all. Mrs. Sterling’s schedule was packed that year, with photos released year-round, showing no signs of pregnancy.” Attached: “Mrs. Sterling’s Year-Round Photos” A sharp-eyed and logical youth. I immediately hit “like” on his comment. I didn’t care much about the comments from random students. I went to the Student Government office to find Ethan as usual. As soon as I walked in, I saw Ethan being pestered by Chloe. I was genuinely furious. Using my identity to interfere with my relationship. Could Chloe be any more shameless? “Fake heiress, wasn’t playing thief enough for you? Now you want to be a homewrecker?” I swore that was the ugliest thing I had ever said in my life. Chloe was already guilty. The resounding “fake heiress” made her tremble with anger. “Aria! Who are you calling a fake?” Chloe scowled. I scoffed: “Do I need to say it again? You’re tacky and awkward. Who gave you the confidence to pretend to be a rich girl?” I finally said what was on my mind. I thought Ethan was the one being harassed, so I naturally assumed he would stand by my side. I didn’t expect the slap in the face to come so quickly. Ethan stepped in front of Chloe, frowning at me: “Aria, stop it. Chloe isn’t what you think.” Excuse me? During the day he tells me he doesn’t know her, and at night he’s calling her “Chloe”? “She’s not what I think? Then what is she?” I stared into his eyes, demanding an answer. I’m usually a very easygoing person, but in a relationship, I demand blatant favoritism. I need my boyfriend to stand by my side, right or wrong. If he can’t do that, then I’ll kick him to the curb. I was willing to listen to his explanation, but he just kept trying to push me away: “I’ll walk you back to your dorm first. I’ll explain on the way.” I shook off Ethan, pointing at Chloe: “No need. Explain it right here, in front of her. We have plenty of time. Explain.” Ethan stammered, unable to speak. Seeing this, Chloe smiled smugly and grabbed Ethan’s hand: “The truth is, I confessed my feelings to Ethan, and he agreed to give me a chance to pursue him.” Ethan’s face looked terrible, but he didn’t let go of Chloe’s hand. The hand he used to hold Chloe’s was wearing the birthday gift I had given him—a watch I had my cousin bring back from Europe, worth tens of thousands of dollars. 4 To describe how I felt at that moment, “thunderstruck” would be an understatement. It wasn’t that I was deeply in love with Ethan. I just couldn’t accept two things: First, my terrible judgment in picking a spineless opportunist. Second, that this opportunist gave up on me for a clumsy, tacky fraud. He hadn’t even reaped the benefits Chloe promised, yet he defected so easily! If he bothered to check the prices of the gifts I gave him over the past two years, he wouldn’t be acting so smug! I turned and walked away. I knew Ethan and I were done. I have relationship OCD. I cannot accept a scumbag who keeps his options open. Ethan chased after me. On the way, he desperately tried to explain. “Aria, listen to me. When Chloe asked if she could pursue me, what was I supposed to say? I just said it was her freedom, nothing else. Please don’t be mad. I won’t accept her, I only love you.” Ethan pulled on my arm, dragging me all the way from the admin building to the academic building. “Let go! Let go!” I was furious. Did this scumbag think I was in kindergarten? Did he think a few sweet words would trick me into coming back? I yanked my arm, which he was pulling painfully tight, but I couldn’t shake him off. Just then, someone walked out of the academic building. He walked right up to us, grabbed Ethan’s wrist, and with a swift internal rotation, pinned him down. “Ow! Who the hell are you?!” Ethan, pinned and his arm in pain, screamed wildly. The guy didn’t let go. Instead, he turned and asked me: “Are you okay?” Only then did I get a good look at him. He had clean, short hair, wearing a white lab coat over a hoodie. A pre-med student. His face looked familiar. Wasn’t he the guy who defended me on the campus forum? “Caleb!” I blurted out. He paused, seemingly surprised I knew his name. Then he nodded at me, glanced at Ethan pinned under his grip, and asked: “What should we do with him?” I looked at Ethan. Ethan quickly pleaded with me: “Aria, trust me, I’ll explain everything clearly, okay? What happened earlier was really a misunderstanding. Tell him to let me go first!” I felt a deep sense of sorrow. Did this two-faced man always think I was an easy mark? I didn’t plan on letting him off easily. He dared to play me, I’ll make sure he regrets it. I pulled out my phone and recorded Ethan looking pathetic. As I recorded, I said: “Ethan, we’ve been dating for two years, and I still have feelings for you. If you repeat what you just said on camera—say that Chloe is harassing you one-sidedly, that you have no feelings for her, and that you will absolutely never accept her—if you say it, I’ll forgive you.” “Ethan, do you dare say it?” I pushed the phone closer to his face so he could see his humiliated state in the video. His expression went from red to pale, and pale to red. I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was currently pinned down, stripped of all dignity and grace. If he actually said those words, forget about the “billionaire’s daughter,” no girl with any self-respect would ever go near him again. And he didn’t want to miss out on the “billionaire’s daughter.” “Aria! There’s nothing to say.” Ethan looked away. “Let’s break up.” Finally getting the expected result, I scoffed and calmly stopped recording. “Let him go,” I said coldly. Freed, Ethan, probably too ashamed to look at me, kept his head down and ran off. Actually, I wasn’t as calm inside as I looked on the outside. In that moment, I really wanted to rush over and kick him to the ground. And scream at him: Idiot!! I’m the actual heiress you’re trying to climb up to! You were one step away from the opportunity of a lifetime, but now you’ve missed it forever! But I didn’t. My “campus goddess” persona couldn’t shatter. I told myself to look on the bright side. Seeing his true character before my feelings got too deep was a blessing in disguise. I turned around, intending to thank Caleb, but a gust of wind blew sand into my eye. I couldn’t help but rub it. Caleb mistakenly thought I was crying. “Don’t cry, he’s not worth it,” Caleb said suddenly. His voice was slightly hoarse, but inexplicably pleasant to listen to. “He’ll regret losing you.” Heh. I thought to myself, this guy looks cold, but he’s actually quite caring. “I know,” I said. 5 The next day. Ethan and Chloe were officially together. When I ran into them in front of the art building, Chloe was ignoring the gossiping students, clinging tightly to Ethan’s arm. Chloe was acting high and mighty, her smile full of a victor’s smugness: “Aria, we meet again.” I sneered: “A fake heiress and a cheater. A match made in heaven.” Every time I said “fake heiress,” Chloe’s face changed color. I enjoyed watching her face turn pale and asked her: “Fake heiress, have you checked out his family background? Throwing yourself at him so desperately, be careful you don’t end up with nothing.” Chloe subtly glanced at the watch on Ethan’s wrist and curled her lip disdainfully: “You don’t recognize quality, but I do. I know Ethan’s worth better than you.” “Great!” I really wanted to see the look on her face when she realized it was all for nothing. “Then I’ll be looking forward to the mansion trip this weekend.” Chloe wanted to argue more, but an arm suddenly wrapped around my shoulders. A strong arm steered me around and toward the building. I followed the arm. The person holding me was Caleb, who had helped me yesterday. I whispered: “What are you doing here?” Caleb blinked: “Just passing by. Didn’t want to see you lose, so I helped you out.” I understood the subtext. Running into an ex right after a breakup, the more pathetic you look, the worse it is. He was helping me save face. I nodded and said softly: “Thank you!” I let him hold me, walking forward without blushing or my heart skipping a beat, despite the stares from the crowd. Today was the day of the Art Society’s club meeting. A massive crowd of students packed the large lecture hall. I had gathered all the members because I had something very important to announce— Sterling Enterprises’ “Artisan Village” had issued invitations for fifty Art Society members to visit and study at the village for a month. The origin of “Artisan Village” goes back two years. During my freshman year, I ran for and won the presidency of the Art Society. I was so happy I impulsively called my dad to share the good news. To my surprise, that very afternoon, the university received a massive investment from my dad, specifically earmarked for the Art Society. If I hadn’t strongly objected, my dad even wanted to fly a helicopter to the school to present me with a medal of honor. To secure my position as president, my dad invested in a massive cultural and arts hub on the south side of the city, naming it “Artisan Village.” The village brought in over two thousand fashion enterprises and gathered hundreds of top domestic and international designers. Because I didn’t want to reveal my identity, my dad signed a talent acquisition agreement with the university under the company’s name. Publicly, it was billed as: a university-enterprise partnership, driving employment through innovation, and building a talent hub for the fashion industry. Every year, the university regularly sends Art Society members to intern at Artisan Village. Over time, others assumed this was stipulated in the contract. What they didn’t know was that all the spots were directly assigned by me, having nothing to do with the agreement. Seeing that the members had arrived, I began roll call: “Sarah, Jessica, and Emily from the Fine Arts Department… Michael and David from Product Design… In total, 50 students. Tomorrow morning at 10 AM, gather at the school gates to take the university bus to Artisan Village for a one-month internship.” The students whose names were called cheered happily. After all, getting to intern at Artisan Village was a fantastic opportunity for college students, and it would be a powerful advantage when job hunting later. After I finished the roll call, I was about to go over some details. Chloe’s little sidekick, Liam, suddenly jumped out and interrupted me. “Aria, you’re being way too biased! Why did you only choose people you’re close to?” 6 Saying I only chose people I was close to was pure slander! First of all, the most basic requirement for a president is fairness. Otherwise, if these high-achieving college students felt I was being unfair, who would respect me? Secondly, I care about my reputation too. Artisan Village is my family’s business. The higher-ups all know me. If I send a bunch of talentless people just because I’m close to them, it’s my own face that will be lost! I didn’t even need to defend myself; the members did it for me. “What makes you say Aria is being unfair?” “Exactly! Everyone on this list has proven talent, and most of them are seniors who need internship opportunities. You’re a freshman who doesn’t know the rules, what are you babbling about?” The sidekick backed down and immediately pushed Chloe forward. He tugged at Chloe’s sleeve and whispered: “Chloe, this is way too unfair. Why does Aria get to decide everything?” Chloe, who had been simmering with anger after I hit her sore spots repeatedly, took the opportunity to pick a fight: “Liam is right. The Art Society isn’t a dictatorship. I propose we select the candidates again.” I didn’t even bother looking up. “Isn’t Artisan Village owned by Sterling Enterprises? Who gets to intern there is entirely up to the Sterling heiress, isn’t it?” Chloe immediately realized something was wrong and quickly declined: “My dad handles company affairs. I won’t interfere.” “Arranging an internship is hardly interfering, is it?” I said coolly. “Is there anyone else who wants to intern? Just ask the Sterling heiress, wouldn’t that solve everything?” The sidekick’s eyes lit up as he looked at Chloe. I chuckled internally. This is what you call shooting yourself in the foot. Ignoring the scowling Chloe, I went over the details with the interns, announced recent activities and competitions, and then dismissed the meeting. After the meeting, Caleb asked me out to dinner. A woman’s sixth sense told me he was interested in me. After interacting with him twice, I didn’t dislike him. I was hungry anyway, so we went to get sushi near the campus gates. While eating, I waited for him to confess, but he kept rambling about random things, unable to get to the point. I asked: “Do you like me?” Caleb’s face froze. After a moment, he nodded: “I’ve liked you for two years.” I was a bit surprised: “Then why haven’t you ever confessed to me before?” Caleb lowered his head. The usually stoic guy looked a bit forlorn: “When I was getting ready to confess, I found out you already had a boyfriend.” “Oh…” I felt a bit sorry for him. But I had just gone through a breakup and didn’t want to jump into a new relationship so quickly. I was just about to reject him when he suddenly looked up, our eyes meeting. “Don’t reject me yet. Hear me out.” He looked at me and said: “I’m a year older than you, a senior pre-med student. My family’s financial situation is decent, my parents are reasonable people. I know my own feelings, and I’m definitely not acting on impulse. I’ve liked you for two years, and I plan to love you for the rest of my life.” “This…” I didn’t know what to say for a moment. Honestly, hearing him say that, I was quite moved. Maybe the old saying is true: someone who’s just gone through a breakup needs warmth the most. I was very grateful for the warmth he offered. However, I’m sorry, but I still had to decline. “I…” am sorry. Before I could finish, Caleb’s face tightened, and he quickly interrupted me: “You don’t have to decide so quickly. Give me a chance. Let’s try spending some time together first. Is that okay?” I suddenly found him quite endearing. Thinking about it, every time he appeared, I felt pretty happy. If that’s the case, why not give it a try? “Okay.” I smiled: “I’ll give you a chance.”

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I transmigrated. The moment I opened my eyes, an insanely hideous guy was looking down at me from his high horse, saying, “Harper, go kiss the ugliest guy in the room, and I’ll unblock you on Snapchat.” Me: ??? Aren’t you the ugliest guy in the room? Following the direction he was pointing, my eyes landed in a dimly lit corner. A tall, broad-shouldered guy in a crisp white button-down sat there, his lips pressed into a cold, stunningly handsome line. It was only later that I realized I had transmigrated into a world where beauty standards were completely reversed. 01 “Harper, go on! Kiss him!” As my soul settled into this new body, the jeers and cheering around me grew deafening. Kiss who? I blinked in confusion as the gloating voices continued. “Brad is brutal for this! Making Harper kiss the ugliest guy here.” “Hahaha, the ugliest guy… that’s definitely…” “This is a killer move. It humiliates that guy and totally messes with Harper.” The guy speaking winked and gestured toward a specific direction. I instinctively followed his gaze. Holy crap! My eyes! My poor eyes! Sitting in the center seat, surrounded by a crowd of flatterers, was a guy so breathtakingly ugly I almost became a living reaction meme. Seeing me look over, he pulled the girl next to him closer, raising an eyebrow impatiently. “Harper, we had a deal. I said the unanimously agreed upon ugliest guy. Don’t try to cheat. Just give him one kiss, and I’ll add you back on Snap right now.” [Insert ‘Bombastic Side-Eye’ Meme Here] Bro, take a look in the mirror. Is there anyone in this zip code uglier than you? And wait, did you get your script flipped? You will unblock me? Is it Opposite Day? The ugly guy—who I now realized was Brad—saw me hesitating and assumed I couldn’t lock onto my target. He jutted his chin to point again. I followed his gaze. And guess what? My eyes, which had just been visually assaulted to the point of near blindness, were instantly cured! In the booth opposite us sat another group of people. But unlike our booth, the guy sitting in their center seat was an absolute, cold-faced god of a man. The moment I saw him, it felt like his sheer attractiveness illuminated the entire dingy club. I didn’t even bother arguing with Brad. I pressed my lips together, my voice actually trembling. “You want me… to kiss him?” “I told you to kiss the ugliest guy in the room.” Brad smiled maliciously, his gaze locked dead onto the opposite booth. I nodded slowly, suddenly feeling a bit of pity for Brad. Not only was he ugly and mean, but he was also legally blind. 02 Hearing the increasingly rowdy cheers from the crowd, I didn’t hesitate anymore. This wasn’t humiliation; this was charity work for my soul. More importantly, it was love at first sight with the hot guy across the room. The people around the hot guy obviously heard the commotion. They glared at me, telling me to get lost. I turned a deaf ear and plopped right down next to him. I caught a flash of inexplicable humiliation in his eyes. I was a little confused. I wasn’t bad-looking myself. Kiss or no kiss, there was no need to feel humiliated. Without overthinking it, I opened my mouth, ready to shoot my shot. Just then, the hot guy glanced over at Brad’s booth and spoke, his voice laced with self-deprecation. “I know I’m hideous, Liam is fully aware. But I still only kiss my girlfriend.” Me: Huh? Handsome, do you hear the words coming out of your mouth? You? Hideous? You’re ugly?! You belong on a Vogue cover! But that wasn’t the focal point. My heart did a backflip. I grabbed his hand and asked, “So, do you have a girlfriend?” Liam paused for a second before saying, “No…” Not giving him the chance to finish, I jumped in. “Well, you do now.” Liam: “…” “Since you’re not speaking, I’ll take that as a yes.” “Now that I’m your girlfriend, can we kiss?” Liam looked at me, let out a self-deprecating chuckle, and leaned back casually against the sofa. “You’re really going all out just for Brad, aren’t you?” That lazy, cynical vibe he gave off practically turned my brain to mush. Knowing he misunderstood, I simply leaned over, pressing my hands against the back of the sofa, trapping him. With our eyes locked, I murmured a compliment about his beautiful eyes, then leaned in and kissed him directly on the lips. Liam stared at me in absolute shock. The soft warmth of his lips made me never want to pull away. The entire club gasped collectively. A second later, Brad’s furious voice cut through the noise. “Harper! What the hell are you doing?!” I wanted to continue “getting to know” Liam. But Brad was being too loud. I turned around, annoyed. “Are you blind? I’m making out with my boyfriend.” Taking the cue, Liam’s hand naturally slipped around my waist. The scene that followed was pure chaos. Brad stormed over to grab me, Liam shielded me, and the two groups broke out into a massive brawl. It was only later I found out that these two were sworn enemies. Brad was just using me to humiliate Liam. 03 On the drive back to my dorm in Liam’s luxury car, I looked up at the legendary starlight headliner, then looked at him. Yep, he was definitely better-looking than the roof. “Why do you keep staring at me?” “Because you’re gorgeous to look at.” The moment the words left my mouth, Liam’s expression became extremely complicated. “Harper, for the sake of us being classmates, I helped you out of that situation today. Don’t push your luck.” What did that mean? Was he backing out? I panicked. “I wasn’t joking! I genuinely want you to be my boyfriend. Please, date me. If I have to endure riding in luxury cars and living in mansions to be with you, I’m willing to make that sacrifice!” Liam laughed, purely out of exasperation. After a long pause, he asked, “Do you really think I’m good-looking?” I nodded furiously. Wasn’t it obvious to anyone with functioning eyeballs? If I wasn’t afraid of scaring him off by moving too fast, I wouldn’t even be going back to my dorm tonight. A barely noticeable smile touched his lips. “If you’re my girlfriend, you can’t have any lingering ties with Brad.” I nodded eagerly. I never thought a two-for-one deal this good would ever fall into my lap. When we arrived at my dorm building, we agreed to meet up the next day. I dawdled, refusing to get out of the car. Liam asked, “Is there something else?” I twiddled my thumbs, shot an awkward glance at his driver, and whispered, “Before a couple says goodnight, aren’t they supposed to do something?” He raised an eyebrow. The driver, taking the hint, stepped out of the car. A few minutes later, I walked into my dorm building with swollen, flushed lips. In the car, Liam watched my retreating back. “Harper, you’d better not be playing me.” 04 The moment I stepped into my dorm, a sarcastic voice greeted me. “Well, well, if it isn’t our dorm’s famous little simp. Why are you back so early? Didn’t have to run errands for Brad tonight?” The speaker was Madison, a roommate who had never gotten along with the original Harper. I couldn’t be bothered with her. I washed up and climbed into bed. I had swapped bodies with the original Harper. We had quickly briefed each other on our respective lives before the switch, but dealing with an unfamiliar roommate didn’t require much explanation. Happily, I picked up my phone to text Liam to see if he got home safely. When I opened Snapchat, I saw a new friend request. It was Brad. He attached a message in a completely condescending tone, saying that since I listened to him, he was graciously allowing me back on his friends list. I rolled my eyes. The original Harper had only told me her crush was named Brad. She didn’t mention that Brad was not only visually offensive but also had the personality of a dumpster fire. I accepted his request, watched the “Typing…” bubble appear, and immediately blocked him. The next morning, my roommates were shocked to see me still in the room. “Aren’t you going to deliver Brad’s breakfast?” I shifted my gaze from my chat with Liam. “Don’t bring up Brad around me anymore. I have a boyfriend.” “What? Seriously? Who?” Before I could answer, Madison sneered. “Give me a break. A boyfriend? The whole campus knows you’re Brad’s ultimate simp. You’re just playing hard to get to grab his attention.” Me: … I didn’t know why, but the way they talked about Brad was so weird. They made it sound like he was some untouchable deity. Before I could ask, someone knocked on our dorm door. “Harper, someone’s downstairs looking for you.” It had to be Liam. Silly guy, he could have just texted me. I skipped all the way downstairs. From a distance, I saw a tall, broad-shouldered figure in a white button-down standing with his back to the door. I launched into a flying leap and hugged him tightly from behind. “I missed you so much after just one night!” The next second, Brad’s smug voice rang out from above me. “Harper, I knew you were just playing hard to get.” I gasped in horror and instantly recoiled. Holy crap, I hugged the wrong guy! Worse yet, I didn’t know when Liam had arrived, but he was standing just a few feet away, watching the entire scene unfold with crystal clarity. 05 Brad looked at Liam with sheer provocation and reached out to pull me back into his arms. I stood up, pulled a Matrix dodge, and bolted to Liam’s side. “Let me explain!” Honestly, it wasn’t my fault. For some inexplicable reason, Brad and Liam had very similar builds and dressing styles. Plus, we had left the club last night and gone straight to Liam’s car. I never really got a good look at him from behind. Thankfully, though Liam’s face was dark, he didn’t immediately turn around and walk away. Before I could continue explaining, Brad’s obnoxious voice echoed again. “Explain what? Harper, you only got close to him to make me jealous, right? Well, I’m here in person now. Before I get mad, tell him to get lost.” The way Brad looked at Liam reeked of some incomprehensible superiority complex. I grabbed Liam’s hand and fired back. “You get lost! Are you mental? What business is it of yours if I’m talking to my boyfriend?” Students walking in and out of the dorm started gathering to watch the drama, whispering words like “Campus Prince” and “That Ugly Guy.” I didn’t pay them any mind. With Liam’s face, he was more than qualified to be Campus Prince. “Boyfriend? Him? Harper, are you insane? Have you even looked at his face?” Brad looked genuinely shocked and disgusted. Liam silently tightened his grip on my hand. He was definitely trying to comfort me. Sob. My boyfriend is so sweet. Damn you, Brad. Liam hasn’t even said a word, and you’re trying to gaslight me? I puffed out my chest. “I am Harper. An honor roll student, an avid reader of classic literature, a participant in multi-million dollar lottery projects, a top-tier Amazon reviewer, and one of the finest residents of this dorm. With a face like his, why wouldn’t I be worthy of him?” A hint of amusement flashed in Liam’s eyes. Brad had kicked an iron plate today. I kept firing. “And you have the nerve to insult his looks? Have you looked in a mirror lately? You literal blockhead, with your beady eyes, flat nose, sausage lips, and Dumbo ears! Looking at you for too long makes me want to call 911! I should be suing you for emotional distress!” As soon as the words left my mouth, Brad’s angry face slowly flushed with a bizarre, shy redness. He bit his lip and muttered, “Harper, I know you like me, but you don’t have to flatter me like that.” I immediately clutched my chest, stumbled three steps back, and collapsed into Liam’s arms. Terrifying. “Liam, we need to leave. He’s actually psychotic!” 06 Sitting in Liam’s car, I patted my chest, still reeling. Brad’s delusional confidence was genuinely frightening. Liam was looking at his phone, texting someone, before finally looking up at me. “I remember saying just last night that you shouldn’t have any lingering ties with Brad.” “That wasn’t my fault!” I quickly explained the mix-up from start to finish. Before Liam could say anything, I added, “I know no matter what, a mistake is a mistake. I won’t make excuses. So, as punishment, can we go somewhere private so you can kiss me?” Liam: “…” The driver was still in the car, so the kiss didn’t happen. Liam said he never wanted to hear the things I said to Brad today ever again. I nodded, thinking he was such a good guy. Brad was such a jerk, yet Liam still wanted to protect Brad’s dignity. Truly a man worthy of my love. Liam booked us a table at a private country club. The environment was elegant and quiet. It was just that the waiters… their looks left a lot to be desired. I leaned close to him and whispered, “The owner here is actually really kindhearted.” Liam looked at me, confused. I covered my mouth and whispered, “I figured private clubs would have strict requirements for how their staff look. I didn’t expect them to be so down-to-earth.” Liam’s eyes flickered. “You think they’re ugly?” I scratched my head, realizing these people made a living on service, not their faces, so I put it delicately. “They just don’t really fit my aesthetic.” I spun the lazy Susan to grab a piece of the truffle steak that had just arrived, completely missing the thoughtful, assessing look on Liam’s face. After lunch, Liam planned to take me golfing. I thought that sounded boring, so I suggested we hit the mall instead. He paused for a second before agreeing. He just wore a face mask the entire time. 07 When Liam dropped me back at the dorm, my hands were full of shopping bags. All afternoon, whenever my eyes lingered on something for more than a second, he’d swipe his black card and buy it. It got to the point where I had to walk looking rigidly straight ahead. “Well, well. Found yourself a sugar daddy?” Madison eyed the bags I dumped on my desk and immediately started her trash talk. Liam definitely had sugar daddy money. There was no denying that. Seeing me stay quiet, Madison rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me this sugar daddy is Liam. I heard all about what happened this morning. You’re so desperate to get Brad’s attention that you’d stoop to hooking up with him?” Me: ??? Was Brad the chosen protagonist of this universe or something? I finally understood where his delusional confidence came from. But it was weird. Brad’s family had money, and Liam’s family clearly wasn’t lacking either, otherwise they wouldn’t be rivals. So why did everyone only worship Brad? I voiced my confusion out loud. Madison’s eyes went wide, and then she burst out laughing. “Harper, is your brain broken? Brad is the Campus Prince. How can you even compare that ugly freak Liam to him?” Huh?! What?? What was she saying? This was some very niche English. Who was the Campus Prince, and who was the ugly freak? In a flash of lightning, all the bizarre details connected in my head. I pointed at my own face and asked Madison, “Tell me. Am I pretty, or am I ugly?” Madison looked at me with mild disgust. “You’re a clown. Super ugly.” Wow. Okay. So I really had transmigrated into a world with reversed beauty standards. I really was the clown now. No wonder I always felt a weird cognitive dissonance around Liam. This explained everything. Knowing the truth of this world, I didn’t act rashly. Under these circumstances, trying to explain it to Liam would just sound like I was mocking him. But every time I looked at his gorgeous face, I felt like I had secretly unearthed a gold mine while the rest of the world was blind. Hehehe. 08 My relationship with Liam hadn’t been broadcasted to the whole school yet. Because of that, most people still thought of me as Brad’s ultimate simp. One day, right as I walked into the lecture hall, someone joked out loud. “Hey, isn’t that Harper? You in the wrong room? Brad is in the building next door today.” Turns out, the original host’s reputation as a simp was legendary across campus. Brad was always late to class and couldn’t get good seats, so the original Harper would save a seat for him, wait until he showed up, and then sprint all the way back to her own class. Sometimes, because of one word from Brad, she even had to save seats for his roommates. She had simped diligently for two years and hadn’t even earned basic human respect. Thinking about this, I waved my hand dismissively. “Who’s Brad? The only person in my eyes right now is my boyfriend.” With that, I walked over and sat right next to Liam, ignoring their shocked stares. “Holy shit, is she serious?” “She has to be doing this just to piss Brad off.” “Honestly, I heard what happened at the club the other night. Is anyone really surprised she finally gave up on him?” As the whispers spread, Liam frowned and glanced backward. The room instantly went dead silent. I hadn’t realized he was so intimidating. I rested my chin on my hand, looking at him with a smile in my eyes. Liam suddenly spoke up. “If you mind the whispers, I can go sit in the back row.” Mind? Mind what? Mind that people are gossiping because my boyfriend is too hot? I leaned in close. “Liam, have you ever heard the saying, ‘A hot boyfriend is a girl’s best accessory’?” Even with my thick skin, I felt a little embarrassed saying it. I tried to save face. “I just mean, you are my glory. A few jealous stares from them? I can handle it.” Liam looked at me and suddenly smiled. It was so dazzling I completely lost my bearings. I didn’t even catch what he muttered under his breath. Then I remembered—this was a world with reversed beauty standards. What I just said probably sounded like passive-aggressive mockery to him. “No, no, no! I mean, my aesthetic is just a little different from the mainstream.” Liam: “…” That didn’t sound right either. “I mean, in my eyes, you are incredibly handsome.” Why did it feel like the more I explained, the worse it sounded? Seeing me panic, the corners of Liam’s lips curled up. He gently tapped my forehead and said softly, “You don’t need to explain. I know.” 09 Before the class was even over, the news of me and Liam dating had spread across the entire campus. Brad tried calling me from several different numbers. I ignored all of them. Madison sneered at me in the dorm. “Some people really have no shame. But then again, every pot has its lid. With your wide eyes, small mouth, and perfectly oval face, you really are only fit for a guy with sharp eyebrows, bright eyes, and a high nose bridge.” Hearing that, I couldn’t hold back a laugh. Madison stamped her foot in anger. “What are you laughing at?!” I tried to force my smile down. “Keep insulting me. It’s music to my ears.” Madison: “…” *** Summer brought frequent storms. Shortly after I got back to the dorm, a torrential downpour started outside. I was just texting Liam, celebrating that we didn’t get caught in the rain, when someone outside started screaming my name. I opened the window and looked out. A chill ran down my spine. Holy crap! A swamp monster! Did the creature from the Black Lagoon come to claim my soul?! Standing in the pouring rain below was a guy in a white button-down. The rain had completely soaked through his shirt, and his awkward mid-length hair was plastered flat against his scalp. Seeing me stick my head out, he wiped the water from his face. “Harper! Harper!” I admit, in that moment, I was terrified. I trembled. I shivered and asked my roommates, “Do you guys see that thing down there?” Madison leaned over to look, then instantly covered her mouth. I thought she was scared too, but she turned to me, her eyes brimming with emotion. “It’s Brad!” “He’s so devoted! It’s like a beautiful romance movie!” Me: “…” Honestly, sometimes I really wanted to call the cops on this universe. The reversed beauty standards in this world were absolutely horrifying! Seeing me pull my head back inside, Brad yelled my name even louder. I grabbed my earplugs and lay down on my bed. Rainy days are meant for napping. Madison berated me for being heartless before grabbing an umbrella and rushing downstairs to him. I don’t know how she eventually convinced Brad to leave, but either way, I got several days of peace and quiet. 10 After dating for a while, I realized Liam and I clicked perfectly in every way. Except for the fact that he was a total tease. On the outside, he was this aloof, untouchable god. On the inside? He was sneaky. Whenever we went for walks, if I so much as glanced a second too long at the guys playing basketball on the courts, I’d magically find a subtle, dimly lit mirror selfie of his abs on my Instagram feed that night. And every time I “liked” it, he would delete it seconds later. After a few times, I caught onto his game. The next time he posted a picture, I pretended to casually mention it to my roommates. “Liam’s new Instagram post is really artsy.” Of course it was artsy. It was a seemingly candid shot of him leaning back on a sofa, his collarbone and Adam’s apple peeking out flawlessly from his unbuttoned shirt. “Huh? He posted something?” My roommates looked at their phones in confusion. Madison suddenly chimed in. “Harper… you don’t actually think Liam is good-looking, do you?” Here we go again. “What else would I think?” “His jawline is way too sharp, his brow ridge is too high, his lips are too thin. Besides his good grades, pale skin, and decent vibe, how can he possibly compare to Brad? I think you have psychological body dysmorphia.” She was actually advocating for Brad. You can’t explain ice to a summer bug. I didn’t bother arguing. “You’re right. Based on your worldview, I am psychologically deformed. Because in my eyes, Liam is the hottest guy on the planet.” Madison’s eyes darted around, as if she had just thought of something. She immediately pulled out a bunch of photos and asked me to pick the best-looking ones. The gorgeous men and women I selected were, without exception, deemed hideous by them. My roommates looked at me with deep pity. I just shrugged helplessly. Cognition is impossible to correct when the foundation is built on an error. Just like how a dung beetle genuinely believes feces is the best thing in the world. 11 I was wrong. I shouldn’t have insulted the dung beetles. At least dung beetles don’t commit kidnapping. A few hours ago, Liam finally agreed to take me somewhere private so we could make out. But before my sinful little hands could reach his waist, Madison called, claiming there was an issue with my scholarship application and I needed to go to the counselor’s office immediately. Liam wanted to go with me, but he coincidentally got an urgent phone call at the same time. After leaving the office, I took a sip of the bottled water Madison handed me. When I woke up, I was lying on a couch, my entire body weak and paralyzed. Not far away, Brad was talking to a man in a white doctor’s coat. “Doctor, she must have been traumatized by me earlier. She suddenly developed a fetish for ugly guys. As long as you cure her, I’ll pay whatever it takes.” The doctor nodded and said he needed to prepare some things. Brad walked over and looked down at me. “I knew you wouldn’t just change your feelings for no reason. Turns out you have Cacophilia—a sickness for ugliness. Don’t worry, I’ll have you cured. Once you’re fixed, I’ll forgive you and let you stay by my side.” “I give you an 8.5 out of 10 today, mostly because I’m speechless.” What kind of monumental narcissism is this? If I don’t like him, it means I have a medical condition? Brad flashed a “charming” smirk. “Harper, I admit you’ve successfully caught my attention. You were very smart this time. You know I’ve despised Liam since we were kids. He’s just an ugly freak with a bit of competence. Why does everyone say I’m worse than him in everything except my looks?! I specifically dressed in his style just to humiliate him.” Me: “…” Is it possible that, even based purely on looks, you are lightyears behind him? But this wasn’t the time for that. “This is kidnapping. Aren’t you afraid I’ll call the cops?” Brad reached out and touched my face. “It’s just medical treatment. Once you’re cured, I’ll let you go.” Watching the psychiatrist approach, panic set in. I knew I wasn’t sick, but I was terrified he would force-feed me some random drugs. I tried to fight back, but the sedative hadn’t worn off. I couldn’t move a muscle. As the hypnotic rhythmic sounds began, my consciousness grew cloudy. It felt like an eternity, or maybe just a few minutes. Suddenly, a massive crash rang in my ears. Someone had kicked the door down! When I opened my eyes, Liam, his hair slightly disheveled, appeared in front of me. He was sweating, and he pulled me fiercely into his arms. “Harper, are you okay?” His voice was trembling. I wanted to lift my arms and hug him back, but my body moved on its own, forcefully shoving him away. Then, I heard my own voice speak. She said, “Who are you? Don’t touch me!” Liam’s face instantly went deathly pale. Then, my world went completely black.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “416074”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was at Ethan’s beck and call for six years. I was there whenever he needed me, and I left whenever he told me to. While he was wrapping his arm around another woman’s to drink a toast, I was at the hospital being diagnosed with leukemia. I had three months left to live. Later, he knelt by my hospital bed, crying and begging me to accept a bone marrow transplant. It was hilarious. I never had any intention of living. 1 The moment I got the official diagnosis from the hospital, I called Ethan. Over and over again. No one answered. The doctor’s words still echoed in my ears: “It’s leukemia. You need to be admitted immediately. If we aggressively pursue treatment, there is still hope…” I leaned back in the chair, my face blank. “If I don’t get treatment, how long do I have?” “You’re so young, why wouldn’t you want treatment…” “How long?” The doctor looked at me like I was insane. After a long pause, he finally said, “At most… three months.” I gave a grateful smile. “Thank you.” Three months. That was enough. I had barely stepped out of the hospital doors when my phone rang. The caller ID said “Ethan,” but when I answered, it wasn’t his voice. “Hey, Emma, Ethan is wasted. You need to come get him!” Ethan was drinking? My heart instantly seized. “How could you let him drink?!” That could literally kill him! His friend Mike mumbled some excuses, but over the background noise, I heard a woman’s voice. Mia. Ethan’s first love. The one who got away. I almost forgot. Today was the day Mia moved back to the States. The private room at the bar was packed. A group of people crowded together, craning their necks and cheering. Ethan, the star of the night, had his head tilted back, his arm intertwined with Mia’s as they drank a toast. The expression on his face was one of pure, unadulterated satisfaction—a look I had never seen directed at me. Amidst the cheering, I pushed the door open. Only Mike called out, “Emma.” The rest of them just looked at me like they were watching a sideshow. It was pathetic, really. After being by Ethan’s side for all these years, I had never managed to break into his inner circle. It seemed that in their eyes, only a “goddess” like Mia was worthy of him. Mia turned her head, saw me, and gave a completely unbothered smile. “Emma, you’re here…” Smack! Before she could finish her sentence, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. Mia clutched her cheek, staring at me in sheer disbelief. The cheering stopped abruptly. The room descended into a dead silence. “Mia, maybe others don’t know, but are you seriously telling me you don’t? You know exactly what his condition is! Can he drink?!” I demanded, my voice sharp. But the next second, a harsh slap landed on my left cheek, knocking my head to the side. It was Ethan. He stepped in front of Mia, his eyes fierce enough to eat me alive. “Emma, have you lost your mind? What gives you the right to hit Mia?” The right? I took a deep breath, trying hard to swallow the metallic taste of blood rising in my throat. Ethan must have forgotten. When he had his heart transplant, I was the one who stayed awake for days by his side. Meanwhile, Mia, fully aware of the massive risks of his surgery, resolutely packed her bags and moved across the country to chase her dreams. And now, I’m the one who doesn’t have the right? “Ethan, all these years I’ve catered to you, protected you, terrified that you’d make a single mistake…” My throat felt so tight I could barely speak. “Because I firmly believed that one day, I would warm that fragile heart of yours.” “But now, I realize I was wrong.” “You don’t have a heart at all.” I closed my eyes, a wave of profound exhaustion washing over me. “Ethan, we’re done.” I pulled off our matching promise ring and set it down in front of him. “You’re free.” A wave of dizziness hit me. I stumbled out of the bar. Using the last ounce of my strength, I hailed a cab and fell into the back seat. In the window glass, I saw my own wretched reflection. I covered my nose. Blood was seeping through my fingers, trailing down my hand. I looked like a ghost. I stared at the window and forced a bitter smile. Emma, you’re hilarious. You still have the energy to worry about Ethan’s heart failing because of alcohol. When the one who’s actually dying… Is you. 2 As soon as I got back to the apartment I shared with Ethan, my phone started ringing incessantly, like a grim reaper knocking at the door. Through the receiver, Ethan’s furious roar pierced my eardrums. “Emma, I don’t care where you are, get your ass to the hospital right now. Half of Mia’s face is swollen because of you. Get over here and apologize to her…” He was sick. I hung up, blocked his number, and deleted his contact in one smooth motion. My nose wouldn’t stop bleeding. I leaned over the bathroom sink, unable to wash it away no matter how much water I splashed on my face. The person in the mirror was emaciated, her cheekbones jutting out, with deep, dark circles under her eyes. She looked like a literal corpse. Mia just had a swollen cheek, but blood was dripping from the corner of my mouth. Ethan’s slap had truly held nothing back. I pulled out a suitcase and started packing my things. But looking around the entire apartment, there was barely anything I actually wanted to take with me. In the end, I chose three things and shoved them into the suitcase. A photo album, a notebook, and a small, worn lucky charm. I casually flipped open the notebook. It was densely packed with precautions and reminders. More detailed than any notes I took in college. Diet Section: “Less high-sodium food, it increases the burden on the heart!” “Avoid spicy and stimulating foods; they cause rapid heartbeat and erratic blood vessel constriction, which is bad for heart disease control!” “Avoid drinking large amounts of alcohol or soup!” “Hard-to-digest foods can trigger heart problems!!” Clothing Section: … It was a thick notebook, detailing every minor aspect of his life. Not many people knew Ethan had a heart condition. He didn’t take it seriously himself. But I was neurotic about it, constantly terrified of losing him. I absolutely forbade him from touching greasy or fried foods. I made sure he added layers when it got cold. I wouldn’t let him lounge on the sofa for too long. I made sure he got appropriate exercise, walking six thousand steps every day… I had kept him incredibly healthy for the past six years. Healthy enough that he could now link arms and drink toasts with someone else. I left the notebook on the living room coffee table, right where he couldn’t miss it. I took an Uber to the older, industrial side of the city. Six years ago, I bought a small house here. It was isolated, but the selling point was the quiet. In the front yard stood a massive, towering oak tree that blocked out half the sky. Inside, the walls were covered with photos. I sat there in a daze, staring at them for a long time. Then, I took the photos I brought with me and stuck them one by one into the empty spaces. The seagulls over the bay in San Francisco, looking like a massive cloud blocking out the sun; the sky in Montana, dipping so low it felt like you could touch it; the water in Lake Tahoe, so deep and green it made you dizzy just looking at it. We had good times. The year we went to that historic town in the South, we held hands and wandered through the winding, cobblestone alleys. There were many older women in the alleys offering to braid hair with colorful threads. I sat on a small stool while a woman wove the bright threads into my hair, constantly complimenting my looks. Ethan thought it was amusing and insisted on trying it too. So, I ended up with a few crooked, colorful braids in my hair. When we got back to the Airbnb that night, we found out those specific braids shouldn’t just be worn casually; they were a local superstition associated with mourning a spouse. He didn’t care at all, even teasing me: “What, are you afraid I’m going to die?” Don’t say that, it’s bad luck. I cried and threw a fit, insisting he take them out. He couldn’t win the argument, so we stayed up until the middle of the night undoing them together. Later, I got impatient, grabbed a pair of scissors, and just snipped them all off. My hair looked worse than if a dog had chewed on it. The next day, who knows where he found it, but he brought me a cute beanie to cover it up. I have to admit, it looked pretty good. The day we went to the mountains in Colorado, it happened to be pouring rain. The mountain was just a blur of fog; we couldn’t see a thing. Seeing that I was upset, he comforted me: “No big deal, we’ll come back next year.” But there was no next year. He got busier and busier. Sometimes he would work overtime until one or two in the morning. I couldn’t sleep. Always worried his heart couldn’t handle the late nights, I would sit under the streetlight by the front door and wait for him. There were a lot of mosquitoes in the summer. My legs would get covered in bites, forcing me to hop around in place. But the moment I heard a car honk, I would instantly jump up, running toward him while calling his name loudly. “Ethan! Ethan!” … 3 The shrill ringtone of my phone shattered my dream. My head suddenly pounded with a vicious intensity, and my stomach churned as if a giant hand were twisting my internal organs. I curled into a tight ball. Enduring the pain, I fumbled for the phone under my pillow and answered it. “Emma, where’s my medication?” Ethan’s cold voice came through. I replied instinctively: “First drawer of the nightstand. It’s cold today, wear something thick. The thermal undershirt is in…” I opened my eyes. A damp, stained ceiling met my gaze. Something clicked in my foggy brain. I pulled the phone away and looked at the screen. It was an unknown number. I knew it. I remembered blocking him. “Ethan, we’re over.” My tone turned icy. He sounded exasperated. “Then come get your crap! I’m sick of looking at it!” He probably wanted me to move it so he wouldn’t be annoyed when Mia moved in. I hugged my hot water bottle tighter. “Throw it away. I don’t want it.” He clearly didn’t expect me to say that. He was silent for a long moment, then let out a cold scoff. “Emma, name your price. Otherwise, I won’t feel right about this breakup.” I clenched my jaw, waiting for the wave of pain to recede before speaking slowly. “I don’t want anything.” I don’t want your things. I don’t want your money. And I don’t want you. Before he could react, I hung up the phone. As early as six years ago, Ethan had labeled me a “gold digger.” Back then, he had a sudden heart attack. He was in the hospital, covered in tubes, but his attitude was explosive. To everyone who approached, he had one word: “Get lost!” The private nurses they hired quit one after another. Four of them in total. I was the fifth. He had a terrible temper. If he got slightly annoyed, he’d throw things. The young nurses were terrified of him. I was the only one who wouldn’t leave, no matter how much he hit or cursed me. One time, he suddenly threw a tantrum and slapped the bowl of hot oatmeal out of my hands. The thick, scalding liquid splattered onto the back of my hand, instantly turning the skin a bright, angry red. But I didn’t care about the pain. I was only worried about him. “Are you feeling uncomfortable? Let me go get the doctor, okay?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. He turned his face away. “Why didn’t you dodge?” “If I dodge, who’s going to take care of you?” “Stop pretending, Emma. Don’t think I don’t know. You’re only doing this for the money.” Yes, I was doing it for the money. As long as he was okay, he could say I was doing it for whatever he wanted. Ethan probably didn’t know, but I always loved to carefully press my ear to his chest while he was sleeping, just to listen to his heartbeat. “Ethan,” I would call him affectionately. Hearing the strong thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat, feeling that he was still alive—that made me happier than anything else. In contrast to Ethan’s indifference, his parents actually really liked me. Once, Ethan’s mom teased, “Emma, you’re just too lovable. It would be a blessing if our Ethan could marry a girl like you.” I just smiled shyly. Ethan, meanwhile, glared at me darkly from the side. I knew Ethan didn’t like me. He had a “one that got away” in his heart. I never expected that one day I would actually walk by his side and become his girlfriend. I just wanted, purely and simply, to protect him. That was all. The turning point came during a business trip I took to the West Coast. I heard there was a temple nearby where a master blessed amulets, and they were supposedly incredibly potent. I hiked up that mountain trail several times, finally managing to get one for Ethan. Because of it, I have a scar on my forehead. When I gave it to Ethan that day, his eyes instantly turned red. It looked like he was moved by my gesture. But I knew that a photo was spreading like wildfire in his college group chat. It was Mia, dating a blonde-haired, blue-eyed guy abroad. The two of them were aggressively making out in the middle of the street. Rumor had it they were getting married soon. Ethan was acting a bit unhinged that day. He asked me over and over again: “Emma, are you willing to be with me?” My throat was dry. I nodded over and over. “Of course.” When it came to him, I never hesitated. But in the six years we were together, he never once said he loved me. Not long after Ethan and I moved in together, I asked him for fifty thousand dollars. I bought this little house. I asked him for the money, and he never once questioned what it was for. But the disdain that flashed in his eyes was heartbreaking. In his eyes, I was probably incredibly ugly. 4 I stayed cooped up in the house for half a month. At first, clinging to those beautiful memories, the days weren’t too hard. But gradually, I started experiencing frequent fevers and dizziness. My hair was falling out in clumps. Not to mention the agonizing, needle-like pain that wracked my entire body, torturing me until I wished for death. Painkillers became my only salvation. I went from three pills a day, to six, to twelve… Half a month later, Ethan found me. I was sitting in a tiny, rundown diner, having ordered a few home-style dishes. I didn’t actually have much of an appetite. I just felt this particular diner had a special meaning. Outside the window, a black SUV pulled up to the curb. Someone sat down across from me. “I knew you were here.” I looked up and locked eyes with Ethan. “How did you get so thin?” My hand holding the chopsticks trembled. I didn’t say anything. “How long are you going to hide from me?” Seeing that I wasn’t responding, he raised his voice, drawing the attention of everyone around us. “Let’s just forget about what happened. Come back with me today, and I won’t hold it against you.” I slammed my chopsticks down, completely losing my appetite. Leaving cash on the table, I stood up and walked out of the diner. But before I could take more than a few steps, Ethan grabbed my wrist. He was furious. “Emma, there’s a limit to throwing a tantrum!” I stumbled, almost falling. My vision went black for a second. People and objects looked pixelated, blurring instantly. But even so, I forced myself to violently shake off his hand. “Ethan, how many times do I have to tell you? We’re over.” I pointed toward the black SUV, where the rear window had rolled down to reveal a woman. “You already have Mia. Please, don’t ever bother me again, okay?” Maybe it was because there was a hint of pleading in my tone, but Ethan’s expression faltered. He looked at me quietly, as if trying to discern whether I was telling the truth or lying. How laughable. From the moment the grim reaper declared I only had three months left, I made my decision. For my final moments, I just want to be quiet, alone. No one has the right to pop up and mess with my emotions. Ethan? He doesn’t deserve it. “Ethan.” Mia hadn’t stepped out of the car; only half of her pale, beautiful face was visible. Through the car window, she called out his name from a distance. Ethan left. Watching the car speed away, I felt a twinge of irony. So, Ethan does know how to be obedient. It just depends on who’s giving the orders. That night, I took a cab to the city hospital, hoping to get a refill on my painkillers. “Emma.” I turned around and saw Dr. Bell. Ethan’s primary cardiologist. Back when Ethan’s condition was unstable, I used to see him constantly. I could rattle off complicated medication names without skipping a beat. He used to tease me: “Relax. You’re more stressed out than Ethan is.” Right now, I was bundled up like a mummy, with my hat pulled low over my eyes, but he still recognized me instantly. “Long time no see. Do you have a minute to talk?” I felt too awkward to refuse. As soon as we sat down, he got straight to the point: “What’s going on with you and Ethan lately?” “Nothing. We’re adults. It wasn’t working out, so we ended it.” Maybe my tone was a bit harsh. He looked at me, choosing his words carefully for a long time before speaking: “I’m not trying to be a peacemaker. But Ethan has been acting out lately, and his mother is very worried.” As he spoke, he handed his phone to me. It was Ethan’s Instagram feed. The newest post was a photo of him and Mia at Disneyland. Behind them was a towering drop ride, and in the distance, the silhouette of a roller coaster. A stuffed Duffy Bear sat between him and Mia, their faces glowing with happy, adorable smiles. The caption read: Trying something thrilling. I couldn’t help but clench my fists. He was literally risking his life. “You’re the person who understands him best. Couldn’t you try to talk some sense into…” “Dr. Bell,” I interrupted him, typing Mia’s phone number into his phone. “From now on, if anything comes up with Ethan, call her.” “She’s the only one who can actually make him listen.” 5 I found a photography studio to take a portrait for my funeral. I hadn’t originally planned to do this. Taking a funeral portrait feels like a prelude to death, something I had instinctively been avoiding. But an accident happened the night before. I got up in the middle of the night for some water and collapsed. I cut my knee on something, and it wouldn’t stop bleeding. It soaked through my pajamas and pooled on the hardwood floor. My limbs ached as if they were being physically torn apart. I couldn’t get up. I could only lie flat on my back on the floor for the entire night. The person in the photos on the wall looked down at me under the dim, yellow light, her eyes seemingly filled with sorrow. I endured until dawn before I finally found the strength to get up and go take the portrait. If it was going to hang on a wall, I vanity wanted to look somewhat presentable. Brushing my teeth resulted in a mouth full of blood, as usual. It was truly bizarre. Even without chemotherapy, my hair was falling out in huge handfuls. I had no eyebrows left. I looked like a skeleton wearing human skin. I applied some light makeup in front of the mirror, but I still looked hideously close to death. When the photographer heard I wanted a funeral portrait, he double-checked: “A funeral portrait? Are you sure?” I nodded. Seeing my emaciated, withered appearance, a touch of pity entered his eyes. He led me into the studio. A shoot was also happening in the studio next door. It seemed like a wedding photoshoot. It was very lively; laughter drifted over constantly, carrying an air of joy. The process was quick. In the photo, the corners of my mouth were turned up, and my eyes held a smile. But I was far too thin, and there was an indescribable exhaustion radiating from the image. The lipstick didn’t help much. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret. Carrying the photo, I walked out. Passing the studio next door, I couldn’t help but stop. The door wasn’t fully closed, and voices drifted out. “Wow, Mia, you look better in this than the model did. It’s stunning!” “Just wait until Ethan gets here. He’s going to lose his mind!” “We’ve been waiting for almost two hours. Ethan should be here soon.” … Through the crack in the door, I could vaguely see Mia’s silhouette, surrounded by a group of girlfriends. Her makeup was flawless, and she looked incredibly happy. She was wearing a long, flowing wedding gown, twirling in front of the mirror. My legs gave out. I leaned against the wall to steady myself, another wave of nausea rising in my throat. I clutched my lucky charm tightly. Memories instantly transported me back. This photography studio was owned by a friend of Ethan’s. Even though it was in the older part of the city, it had a long history. With skills passed down from father to son, the photographers and makeup artists here were excellent, making it famous throughout the area. Once, I had foolishly hoped that one day I could take my wedding photos here. Back then, I always thought I had plenty of time. Once, by chance, his friend roped him into doing some modeling. A crisp white shirt and black slacks perfectly highlighted his narrow waist and long legs. With his handsome face, his photos were displayed outside the studio to attract customers. It worked incredibly well; the studio was suddenly packed. Later, they needed a model for wedding dresses, and he recommended me. Wearing a wedding dress, I stepped out from behind the curtain, unable to stop complaining: “This is suffocating me. This dress is way too tight…” He had been lazily leaning on the sofa, resting his chin on his hand, lost in thought. But at that moment, he shot up. In the giant floor-to-ceiling mirror, he stood tall in a sharp suit, and I stood there in a snow-white wedding gown. Standing face-to-face, we looked like a pair of newlyweds. I remember that afternoon. His gaze was burning, seemingly unable to look away from me. After a long moment, he smiled. “My little bride.” I almost had the illusion… That he was going to cry. Unfortunately, it poured rain that day, and the studio’s equipment malfunctioned. The wedding photoshoot never happened. Perhaps, that was fate. I was destined never to have the luck to wear a wedding dress, hold the hand of the man I loved, and pledge my life to him.

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In my Poli-Sci class, the resident “pick-me” girl managed to hook the CEO of Sterling Enterprises. She handed out wedding invitations to the entire class, making a point to deliberately skip me. Yet, on the day of her wedding, the grand reception was delayed for hours. Why? Because the legendary, elusive “Great-Aunt” of the Sterling family hadn’t arrived. Now, she was desperately begging everyone, trying to get just one minute with this Great-Aunt. Meet me? But she was the one who made it explicitly clear she didn’t want me there. 1 As soon as Poli-Sci ended, Chloe Jenkins suddenly stood at the podium and announced to the class that she was getting married. The date was just a week away, and the venue was the ultra-luxurious Plaza Hotel downtown. Honestly, rumors had been swirling for a while. People said Chloe had gotten very close to a wealthy older man, and several classmates had seen her being dropped off at campus in a Rolls-Royce. “Seriously? I heard a single table at the Plaza costs over ten grand. A wedding there has to be in the millions!” “Wow, that’s insane. Who exactly is your fiancé, Chloe?” Though the university allowed students to marry, it was still incredibly rare to see a sophomore tying the knot. Chloe smiled shyly. “You guys might have heard of him. My boyfriend’s name is Liam Sterling. His family is actually pretty normal, he just thinks you only get married once, so he wants to give me a beautiful memory.” “Liam Sterling? That sounds familiar.” “Wait, isn’t that the CEO of Sterling Enterprises, the biggest conglomerate in the city? Please tell me it’s just a coincidence!” Chloe gave a subtle nod, not denying it. “No wonder!” “The Plaza is actually owned by the Sterling family, so it makes sense to host it there. We’re so lucky to get a free meal out of this! I’ve never had five-star hotel food in my life.” “Congratulations, Chloe!” As the classmates showered her with congratulations, Chloe pulled a stack of elegant wedding invitations from her brand-new Louis Vuitton bag. “Because there will be a lot of VIPs there, Liam said we need to strictly enforce the invitations to keep out any… uninvited guests. So please make sure to bring these,” she said sweetly. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep them safe.” Chloe went around handing them out. When she got to my desk, her hands were suddenly empty. I raised an eyebrow. Chloe gave me an exaggerated look of guilt. “Hazel, I’m so sorry. My boyfriend said he accidentally missed you when counting the guest list. The seating chart is already finalized, so we really can’t squeeze you in. I’m so sorry.” She bit her lower lip. “How about I make my boyfriend take you out to a nice dinner next time to make up for it? If I can’t get your blessing, I’ll honestly be devastated.” I looked at her deeply, pretending I didn’t see the smug triumph dancing in her eyes. “No need,” I smiled genuinely. “Happy wedding.” Chloe acted as if she was still overcome with guilt, tears welling up in her eyes. She put on such a show that the rest of the class immediately rushed over to comfort her, telling her it wasn’t her fault and that she shouldn’t let me ruin her mood. She was pretty—delicate features, fragile demeanor—and had been voted the department’s sweetheart the moment she stepped on campus. That frail look made people instinctively want to protect her. My classmates began side-eyeing me, telling me not to be petty, since Chloe clearly didn’t do it on purpose. I hadn’t even said anything negative, yet somehow I was the villain. I stayed in the classroom to read. The others quickly cleared out. A few minutes later, Chloe suddenly strutted back into the room. “Hazel.” “There was no ‘headcount mistake’. I left you out on purpose,” she said, her tone dripping with arrogance. “I know. So?” I asked, genuinely confused. “Are you done? If you’re done, I need to get back to my reading. Who you marry has nothing to do with me. Actually, if you were marrying a pig, I might attend. That would be rare.” Chloe’s face drained of color. “Hazel, stop pretending! You act all high and mighty all day, but behind closed doors, you’re just some rich guy’s sugar baby. Yet you put on this fake ‘good student’ act to make everyone think you’re perfect.” “It’s pathetic.” I didn’t even bother looking up from my book. “Proof?” Chloe scoffed. “Hazel, looking at your hypocritical face makes me sick. Someone like you has no right to attend my wedding. You don’t even deserve the last name Sterling.” I hadn’t planned on engaging with her, but everyone has their limits. I snapped my book shut. “Whether I deserve the last name Sterling or not is none of your business.” “But tell me… you really, truly don’t want me at your wedding?” Chloe froze, unable to guess what I was getting at. After a moment, she let out a loud sneer. “What do you think? Why would I ever want you there?” “You won’t regret this?” I stared straight into her eyes. “Why would I? Because of you? Hazel, you’re not just a hypocrite, you’re a narcissist.” I packed my book into my backpack and said softly, “Understood, Chloe. In that case… I hope you don’t regret this.” 2 When I got back to the dorm from the library, my roommates immediately surrounded me, telling me not to let Chloe get to me. There were six of us in the suite. Chloe had moved out at the beginning of the semester, leaving just the five of us: Harper, Mia, Zoe, Lily, and me. They used to be close to Chloe, but after a few incidents, they saw right through her manipulative tactics. When Harper first started dating her boyfriend, she treated the dorm to dinner. We all agreed not to add her boyfriend on social media out of respect, except Chloe. Chloe added his Snapchat. It started with her “innocently” sharing funny stories about Harper, then evolved into her calling him late at night, constantly dropping hints that Harper didn’t actually love him that much. When Harper and her boyfriend eventually broke up, Chloe acted incredibly supportive, which made Harper deeply grateful. It wasn’t until Harper’s ex accidentally revealed that Chloe had been badmouthing her that the truth came out. That was when everyone saw the real Chloe. She used her fragile, innocent act to manipulate people’s sympathies and gain their trust. “I’m not mad. I don’t have the time to be as bored as her, using a marriage just to flex on other people,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “It’s just stupid.” Speak of the devil. Chloe walked in, a smirk playing on her lips. She looked thrilled, probably thinking her little stunt had genuinely upset me. I didn’t bother explaining. There was no point. The other girls ignored her, turning back to their own desks. Noticing the cold reception, Chloe placed several designer gift bags on the center table. “Mia, Zoe, my fiancé just got back from a business trip to Paris and brought these gifts. See if you like them. If there aren’t enough, I can have my driver bring more.” Harper was in the middle of a video game and snapped, “What, you think we’ve never seen imported goods before? You think we can’t afford anything?” Chloe immediately played defense, saying she didn’t mean it like that. She just felt that these items were very expensive, and as “besties,” she wanted to share them. “I just think friends should share,” Chloe said, looking down. “But if you don’t want them because you hate me, that’s fine. I… I understand.” She looked like she was about to cry. Her acting wasn’t quite up to par today—all thunder, no rain. But if we didn’t take the stuff, she’d probably make enough noise to draw the whole floor into our room to see us “bullying” her. I casually reached out and grabbed one of the boxes. “If it’s for everyone, then there’s one for me, right? Perfect. I’ll flip it on Poshmark. Should cover my groceries for the week.” “It’s hard to find a sucker giving away free money these days. Why say no?” Chloe looked shocked, but seemed pleased that her ultimate goal of showing off was achieved. Zoe put away her laundry and grabbed a box too. “Yeah, free stuff is free stuff. Thanks, Chloe. We really wouldn’t be able to afford this otherwise.” The other girls laughed and took the remaining boxes, turning to me. “Hazel, what’s that app you use? Help us sell these too! We’ll buy you boba with the profits.” Chloe: “…” Ignoring our attitude, Chloe pivoted to her real announcement: “I’ll be moving back into the dorm starting tomorrow until the wedding. I hope we can all get along for these next few days.” None of us wanted her back. We knew exactly why she was doing it—if she didn’t stay in the dorm, how else could she make sure the entire student body saw the fleet of luxury cars picking her up? Honestly, the girl knew how to put on a show. She brought back a ton of extra gifts, handing them out to girls in other dorms whether she knew them or not. Naturally, this won her a ton of envious admirers. Upperclassmen even started coming by our room to network with her, asking if she could hook them up with jobs at Sterling Enterprises. Our dorm usually had a great study environment, but for three days straight, it was packed like a crowded fish market. We couldn’t even breathe. Zoe tried to reason with Chloe, but Chloe just gave her signature helpless look. “I don’t want this either! But they’re our classmates. How can I say no? Just because I’m marrying the CEO of Sterling Enterprises doesn’t mean I should act like a snob. That would hurt their feelings.” Zoe was so mad she chugged an entire bottle of orange juice in one go. “How about we talk to the RA? This is ruining our lives,” Harper sighed heavily. “I can’t even take a nap in here anymore. And Lily is a total introvert—she’s having panic attacks seeing a dozen strangers in our room every day.” “I’ll go talk to her,” Mia volunteered. Less than a minute later, Mia returned, frowning at her phone. “The RA said we just need to endure it. The university is apparently trying to secure a partnership with Sterling Enterprises right now. She told us to ‘be understanding roommates’ and avoid causing unnecessary drama.” “Blatant favoritism.” “At least it’s only a few more days. Once she’s married, there’s no way the Sterling family will let her live in a crusty college dorm.” I had just finished a brutal practice test for my Advanced French exam. I took a sip of water. “Not necessarily. Who knows if something will go wrong at the wedding? She might be forced to keep living here.” Harper laughed and called me a jinx, though she admitted she was torn on whether she wanted Chloe’s wedding to go smoothly or not. Then she paused. “Hazel, your last name is Sterling too. Are you secretly related to Liam Sterling? Don’t tell me you’re actually a secret heiress.” I waved my hand dismissively. “I don’t know Liam Sterling.” Harper groaned. “Ugh! I was hoping you were a secret billionaire who would take us on luxury vacations so we could flex on Chloe. Wait, did she not invite you because she hates us, or does she just hate you?” Chloe returned to the dorm surrounded by her new entourage. We immediately stopped talking and dispersed, either going for a walk or hanging out in other rooms. I put my noise-canceling headphones on and started another practice test, trying to block out the endless fawning over Chloe. This was just obstacle training, I told myself. I absolutely had to pass my Advanced French exam this time! 3 The week flew by. Within that time, practically every student and professor knew about Chloe’s wedding to Liam Sterling. Because she had to attend endless dress fittings and makeup trials, her professors gave her a free pass to skip lectures. Yet, she would purposely show up to class in full bridal makeup and designer gowns, stepping out of a chauffeur-driven car just to “listen to a lecture.” People took photos and posted them to the campus confession page, praising her for being beautiful, rich, and still so dedicated to her studies. A true role model. It was under this circus-like atmosphere that Chloe’s wedding day finally arrived. That morning, a motorcade of over twenty luxury cars—Porsches, Bentleys, Maseratis—pulled onto campus and parked right outside our dorm building. Chloe, accompanied by a flock of bridesmaids, stepped into the lead car like royalty. The students who had caught wind of the spectacle were already crowded outside. They finally got a look at Liam Sterling. He was in his early thirties, looking sharp and professional, maintaining a polished smile while his assistant pulled stacks of red envelopes from the trunk. Three or four boxes of cash envelopes were tossed into the cheering crowd. Some students ripped them open on the spot—the minimum amount inside was two hundred dollars. Occasionally, someone would scream that they got an eight-hundred-dollar envelope. Chloe looked like a princess soaking in the adoration of her subjects. The students who got the cash cheered even louder. The noise was deafening. Chloe was getting married. Today. My classmates had all headed to the hotel reception. I, however, pushed against the crowd and walked back into the empty dorm. From the hallway window, I watched the motorcade slowly inch its way off campus. Harper asked in our dorm group chat if I wanted her to bring me anything back. “If we don’t pack up the leftovers from these rich snobs, it’s a crime against food!” Mia chimed in: “Maybe we shouldn’t even go. Let’s not give Chloe the satisfaction.” My heart warmed, but I texted back: “It’s a five-star hotel, don’t skip a good meal just out of spite. Besides, the Sterling family is paying for it. You have every right to eat it. It has nothing to do with Chloe.” Lily: “What do you mean by that?” “Nothing. I’m going back to my practice tests. I must pass this French exam! If I fail again, I’m doing frog leaps around the track for ten minutes straight!” The others: “Okay, okay, you poor 79-scoring tragic hero.” Ugh! Stop bullying me! Why was French grammar so abusive?! Liam and Chloe’s wedding was excessively lavish. They even had a live stream going. Students back at the dorms who snagged the cash envelopes were watching it online, occasionally screaming about the crystal chandeliers, the dreamy floral arrangements, or the massive diamond necklace around Chloe’s neck. Harper and the girls were bored waiting, so they FaceTimed me, panning the camera around to plan their takeout strategy. They were seated at a table with all the girls from our class, so they didn’t have to be formal. I glanced at the screen. “Skip the king crab, it’s dry. Grab the sliced sea bass over there, the sauce is incredible. Leave the wine, none of us drink that stuff anyway.” “No way, we can sell the wine online,” Lily said seriously. We all burst out laughing. “Lily is out for blood today. The resentment is real.” There were over a hundred tables. The guests included top corporate executives and city officials. Many of my classmates were actively networking, handing out resumes. “Why is this taking so long? If they don’t serve the food soon, it’s gonna get cold.” Mia agreed. “Yeah, I see CEO Sterling talking to his family over there. Shouldn’t the ceremony have started by now?” A giant poster at the entrance said the ceremony would begin at 12:30 PM. It was now past 1:00 PM, and nothing was happening. The MC had been on stage stretching his opening monologue for twenty minutes. Sweating profusely, he finally called up a magician to stall, running over to Liam to ask when they could start. Chloe was standing next to Liam, looking nervously at Eleanor, Liam’s mother. Chloe had gone through all the trouble of setting up a livestream. Making her friends, family, and half the university wait for a delayed wedding was a massive blow to her ego. Her smile was practically twitching. “Absolutely not!” Eleanor Sterling’s voice carried sharply. “Aunt Hazel hasn’t arrived. Serve the food? What are you thinking?” Eleanor wasn’t bothering to keep her voice down, so quite a few people heard her. The Sterling family had a Great-Aunt? People looked around in confusion but saw nothing. Harper whispered into the phone, “Hazel, did you hear that? The Sterling family’s Great-Aunt isn’t here. Chloe’s wedding might literally be stalled.” Mia frowned. “That can’t be right. It’s their wedding. Even if an elder can’t make it, they wouldn’t just cancel the whole thing, right?” A guest at the next table leaned over to gossip. “You don’t understand. The Sterlings are a centuries-old dynasty. They take hierarchy incredibly seriously. I’ve never heard of this Matriarch before, but if she exists, this wedding is on thin ice.” “Oh damn. I guess when you’re that senior, you get to throw your weight around,” Zoe said, worried. “But if the wedding is canceled… does that mean the food is canceled? Are we gonna have to split the bill?!” Our classmates laughed. I looked at the screen, watching Chloe stand awkwardly by the extravagant stage, and said casually, “Maybe it’s not that the Matriarch is throwing her weight around. Maybe she was never invited?” Harper gasped. “Are you insane? Who would dare not invite an elder like that? Honestly, I’m super curious how old this Great-Aunt is. She’s gotta be like, ninety or a hundred, right? If I get a chance, I’m gonna ask her for longevity tips. I wanna live to be a hundred and terrorize six generations of my descendants.” I let out a cold snort. “What are you snorting at?” Harper asked. “I just got three questions wrong on this practice test. Can’t I snort in frustration?” Just then, Liam spoke up on the screen. “Mom, why don’t we just proceed without Aunt Hazel today? We’ll personally visit the estate tomorrow to pay our respects.” Eleanor, a woman with an elegant but imposing aura, sneered. “Have you forgotten the family rules? You want the board of elders to kick you out of the family trust?” “Mom… I mean, Mrs. Sterling, it’s getting so late. Won’t this look bad for the guests?” Chloe said softly, clinging to Liam’s arm. “Stop. Do not call me Mom. If Aunt Hazel doesn’t show, this wedding doesn’t count. If you want to call someone Mom, go out to the street and pick a stranger,” Eleanor glared at Chloe, then turned to the older man beside her. “Uncle Richard, Aunt Hazel still isn’t answering her phone?” Richard sighed heavily. “You know how she is, Eleanor. She never lets us bother her unless it’s an emergency, and she only checks her phone when she feels like it. Should we just drive to the university and look for her?” “The university?” Chloe murmured. “Mrs. Sterling… I’m ranked third in my major, and I’m very close with a lot of the professors,” Chloe offered eagerly. “Should I go ask them to help locate her?” Hearing about her good grades, Eleanor’s expression softened slightly. “I appreciate the thought, but this is a senior family member. We shouldn’t trouble you.” “It’s no trouble at all!” Chloe looked like she was about to cry. Understandably. If this wedding didn’t start soon, she would be a laughingstock. Harper kept the camera pointed at the drama. “Wait, an old professor at our school? Do you guys know any who fit the bill?” After sneezing loudly, I hung up the FaceTime call. A moment later, I pulled out my burner phone from my drawer. I scrolled through dozens of missed calls and finally selected one to call back. I don’t know what Chloe said to Eleanor, but Chloe was the one who answered the phone. Her voice was pitiful and sweet, constantly repeating her name, her major, how good her grades were, and how much she wanted to meet the “Great-Aunt.” “Really?” I said flatly. She paused. “Great-Aunt… your voice sounds so young! Please, if you could just come to my wedding, everything would be perfect. We’re all waiting for you.” After the pleasantries, I got straight to the point. “Is that so?” Chloe said firmly, “Of course! Great-Aunt, should we send a car to pick you up at the university? The hotel is a bit far, we don’t want you to get tired.” I didn’t reply. I changed my shoes, walked downstairs, and called an Uber to the Plaza. I have one major flaw: I’m very easily persuaded. If you don’t invite me, I don’t go. If you beg me to come, I go. I listen to people. Whoever ended up with me was a lucky person. 4 On the way, Harper was giving live updates in our group chat. She said the “Great-Aunt” had agreed to come, and Chloe was acting incredibly smug, taking full credit for saving the day. All traces of her previous panic were gone. “I hope this ancient ancestor has good eyesight and sees right through her ‘pick-me’ act.” “I’m worried the Matriarch is so old she won’t even be able to see straight.” Ugh. Disrespectful. “Hazel, what are you doing? Why aren’t you replying? The MC is doing his opening speech again! I think the wedding is actually starting!” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to reply; I just didn’t want to say anything un-ladylike and ruin our friendship. Thirty minutes later, I arrived at the hotel. The entire ballroom had been rented out by Liam and Chloe. Because I didn’t have an invitation, security stopped me at the door. From fifty feet away, Harper spotted me. “Hazel! Over here!” she yelled, waving wildly. Hearing the noise, Chloe, holding a glass of champagne and looking the picture of elegance, strolled over to the entrance and stopped in front of me. “Hazel, what are you doing here?” I shrugged, feigning helplessness. “I didn’t have a choice. Someone begged me to come.” “Begged you?” Chloe burst out laughing. “Who? Why wasn’t I informed?” Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, dressed in stiff, rented designer clothes, noticed the commotion and came over, looking annoyed. “Classmate of mine,” Chloe explained. “A classmate?” Mr. Jenkins gave me a dismissive once-over. “A freeloader? Just find a seat and sit down. Welcoming the Great-Aunt is the only thing that matters right now. Don’t waste time on useless people.” Mrs. Jenkins nodded vigorously in agreement. Chloe smiled. “Well, Hazel, come on in. Why don’t you sit at that table right by the door? It’s quiet, and no one will notice when you start packing up the leftovers.” “Really? Good thing I brought Tupperware,” I said nonchalantly, pulling a plastic grocery bag out of my purse and giving her a thumbs up. “You’re so generous, Chloe. No wonder you get to marry a CEO.” Mr. Jenkins’s frown deepened. He stood at the door, nervously checking his watch, discussing with his wife if they should go down to the lobby to wait. I sat at the very back table with people I didn’t know and started eating. Twenty minutes passed. Chloe used Eleanor’s phone to call the number again. “Great-Aunt, where are you? Should I come out to meet you?” I stood up from my chair, looked across the massive ballroom at Chloe, and said calmly into my phone, “I’m already here.” Chloe whipped her head around. When she realized it was me, she marched over, her face a mix of shock and rage. “Hazel! Where did you find that phone?! Where is the owner? What did you do to her?!” Wow. The way she was screaming, you’d think I’d kidnapped someone. “This is my phone. Am I not allowed to have a burner?” Chloe looked like she had just heard the funniest joke in the world. “Hazel, I know you’re jealous. I know you’re mad that I’m marrying into wealth and you’re not. But you don’t have to resort to this. Tell me where the real owner of this phone is right now, and I’ll write you a check for five thousand dollars.” “Five thousand just to open your mouth? You really have struck it rich, Chloe. Big talk.” Hearing that the phone belonged to the Matriarch, Mr. Jenkins let out a furious roar. “Give me that phone!” He lunged at me, trying to physically rip the phone from my hand. I had trained in Krav Maga; if he wanted a fight, he wasn’t guaranteed to win. But wait. Wasn’t this a wedding? I had to be polite. I let him snatch the phone. But he wasn’t satisfied. “Spit it out! Where is the old lady?! Tell us right now or we’re calling the cops!” Calling the cops on a pre-law student (who was definitely going to pass her French exam)? Trying to talk law with me? I glanced at Chloe and said flatly, “Chloe, do you know what the legal penalty is for strong-arm robbery?” Mr. Jenkins wasn’t deterred at all. Looking at my casual clothes and the plastic grocery bag on the table, he sneered. “You’re trying to talk law to us? Do you even know who my daughter’s husband is?” “I heard your last name is Sterling too? Hah! Good name, wasted on trash. I don’t know how your parents raised you, but today, I’m going to teach you a lesson on their behalf.” … “You think you’re fit to mention my parents?” If I had found this amusing before, now I was just disgusted. Mr. Jenkins sneered. “Why wouldn’t I be? Look at yourself.” He clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore. He reached out to grab my collar to drag me outside. I swiftly blocked his arm, used his momentum against him, and sent him sprawling onto the floor. “You little bitch, you dare hit me?!” Mr. Jenkins cursed as he scrambled up. Harper and the girls, tired of waiting, had walked over. Seeing Mr. Jenkins try to hit me, they immediately exploded. “Who the hell do you think you’re hitting?!” The commotion drew the attention of the entire ballroom. Just as Mr. Jenkins lunged at me again, a loud, panicked voice echoed across the hall. “Aunt Hazel!” Eleanor was practically jogging over from the main stage, looking incredibly distressed. “Aunt Hazel, you’re here! Why didn’t you come straight to me? Are you mad at me?” Her booming voice made my head ring. I covered one ear and sighed. “Eleanor, your voice is still as piercing as ever.” Chloe’s eyes went wide with pure disbelief. “Hazel… you’re the Sterling family’s Great-Aunt?! Holy shit!” Harper screamed, prompting even more guests to stand up in shock. Mr. Jenkins froze entirely, collapsing back onto the floor, his legs trembling. “G-G-Great-Aunt?” I winked at Eleanor, then turned to Chloe. “Great-nephew’s wife… you were asking who invited me earlier. Do you know now?” Chloe’s lips were pressed tight, her face pale and lost. “Great-Aunt… I…” I held up a hand to silence her. I walked toward the front of the stage, Eleanor trailing half a step behind me like an obedient puppy. Along the way, members of the Sterling family looked on in shock or bowed respectfully, murmuring “Aunt Hazel,” “Great-Aunt,” “Matriarch.” To be honest, I hated this. It made me feel ancient. I was a vibrant, beautiful college student! I reached the center of the stage. Someone had already brought out a luxurious high-backed chair. I sat down and said mildly, “Come here, great-nephew’s wife. Let me get a good look at you.”

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I confessed my love to him in French and even called him my boyfriend. The very next day, I transferred schools. Rumor had it, the school’s most popular guy went crazy looking for me. When we finally crossed paths again, it was at my French professor’s house. He turned out to be my professor’s son!!! The former golden boy gritted his teeth and said, “Long time no see, girlfriend.” 01 I had a secret crush on Noah for two years. Not long after he transferred into our class, I found out I had to transfer to another school. Carrying that regret, on the day I was leaving, I took advantage of the noisy basketball court. Gathering all my courage, I yelled: “Noah, Je t’aime.” It’s French. It means I love you. Noah, who had just sunk a three-pointer, froze. He shot me an inquisitive look. Like a thief, I quickly put away the phone I was using to secretly record him. Pretending to be perfectly calm, I gave him a thumbs-up and mouthed, “Go team!” Noah stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly a smile spread across his face. That smile seemed to possess some kind of magic, as if he saw right through me, making my heart skip a beat with a guilty conscience. 02 Soon, it was halftime. Noah tossed his basketball aside and walked straight over, sitting down right next to me. He leaned back casually, looked at me, and smiled. “What did you just say?” I nervously swallowed a gulp of non-existent saliva and bluffed: “I said, ‘Go team!’” A suspicious gaze landed on my face. He crossed his arms and studied me with a playful arrogance. “That’s not what I heard.” My chest tightened, but I argued back: “It was, I swear. I just said it in French.” There was a moment of silence. I cast a sideways glance at him. He looked thoughtful, a fleeting, barely noticeable glimmer of mischief crossing his face. He smirked. “Sounds nice.” Confused by the sudden compliment, I blinked. “Huh?” His smile deepened, and he slowed his speech. “I said, that French phrase sounds really nice.” Remembering what that French phrase actually meant, my cheeks instantly burned like fireballs. I opened and closed my mouth for a long time, but couldn’t get a single word out. 03 Noah, however, seemed inexplicably delighted, the smile reaching his eyes. He pointed at the basketball court, raising an eyebrow. “Emma, how about this: every time I score a point later, you use that French phrase to cheer for me. Okay?” “What?” My eyes went wide, my brain practically smoking. Every time he scored, I had to yell “I love you”? No, no, no, I still needed to show my face in public. Seeing me speechless, he decided for himself: “Let’s consider it your contribution to class spirit, yeah?” Then, without waiting for an answer: “It’s settled then.” And he jogged back onto the court. I sat there, dumbfounded. Contribution to class spirit, my foot. Right now, I didn’t care about the class at all; I just wished he would miss every shot. After all, I was a timid rule-follower. I only dared to do things secretly, like harboring a crush. I absolutely did not dare to yell it out loud, even in a foreign language. But things rarely go as planned. He hadn’t been back on the court for more than a few minutes before he sank another three-pointer. He smugly waved at me, signaling me to deliver that special “cheer.” My attempt to play dead failed, so I timidly mouthed the words. He didn’t seem satisfied. While dribbling the ball, he ran over to my side of the court. With a wicked grin, he said, “Emma, you haven’t cheered for me yet.” I was riding a tiger and couldn’t get off. I glanced around nervously, then reluctantly muttered in a low voice: “Noah, Je t’aime.” Only then did he jog away, looking incredibly pleased with himself. Leaving me alone, blushing furiously, a complete mess. Noah seemed to have gained some sort of divine power. He played with even more swagger, sinking shot after shot. I shouted “Noah, Je t’aime” so many times I went numb. 04 I barely survived until the end of the game. I grabbed my backpack and bolted. But I had only reached the school gates when Noah caught up to me. He said I worked hard cheering for him, so he absolutely had to buy me boba. He basically dragged me to the boba shop. Thinking about how I wasn’t really “cheering” for him at all, I blushed and pulled out my phone, rushing to pay the bill. But the screen wouldn’t turn on. I realized my phone had died. The embarrassment hit me, and I felt another wave of heat wash over me. Noah chuckled, paid the cashier, and thoughtfully poked the straw into my cup for me. “Since when do girls pay when guys are around?” I awkwardly muttered a thank you. Noah shook his head, lowered his eyes, and looked straight at me. “Emma, we’re friends now, right?” I paused, then raised my boba cup to clink against his. “Of course.” He seemed to think for a moment, then smiled and asked, “So, how do you say ‘guy friend’ and ‘girl friend’ in French?” Guy friend and girl friend? Boyfriend and girlfriend? I chewed on a boba pearl and answered without thinking: “Girlfriend is petite amie. Boyfriend is petit ami.” “Oh.” He looked as if he’d just had a profound realization. His smile vanished, replaced by an earnest, questioning look. “So, you are my petite amie, and I am your petit ami, right?” I choked on a boba pearl and coughed violently, nearly dying right there. The current state of our relationship definitely did not warrant those two words. Those words are exclusively for romantic partners. We were just ordinary friends. I was just about to correct him when a wicked thought flashed through my mind. He didn’t understand anyway, and it perfectly satisfied my unspoken, selfish desire. So, ignoring the loud banging of my own conscience, I nodded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Noah’s eyes crinkle in a smile. He looked absolutely elated, as if he had just won the lottery. Suppressing my shyness, I couldn’t help but smile along with him. 05 The early autumn wind whistled past, carrying the sweet scent of blooming osmanthus. Under the oak tree by the bus stop, our wind-filled, uniform-clad silhouettes were stretched long by the setting sun. Looking at the shadows merging on the ground, my heart raced. Noah seemed to suddenly remember something. He pulled a notebook from his backpack and handed it to me. “I just jotted some things down. If you need it, take it.” I took a look. It was full of detailed explanations and diagrams for the calculus problems I couldn’t solve. My jaw dropped in surprise. “How did you know I needed this?” I saw the tips of his ears turn bright red. “Uh, just thought it might be useful.” I clutched the notebook to my chest, incredibly grateful. “This is so useful. I love you to death.” I was so excited that the phrase “I love you to death,” which I used constantly at home, just slipped out. We both froze, instantly turning red. “T-that, I misspoke,” I hurriedly explained. “Oh,” Noah replied flatly, his tone unreadable. But when he suddenly turned his head and gave me a smile, I thought I caught a glimpse of deep affection. When the clouds were painted a fiery orange, my bus home finally arrived. Noah walked me to the door of the bus. I sat by the window and waved goodbye. He waved back. “See you Monday, petite amie.” See you Monday, girlfriend. I pressed a hand to my chest to keep my heart from leaping out. I was so nervous I didn’t know where to look. Remembering he didn’t understand anyway, I forced myself to nod calmly. “Oh, okay.” Noah seemed thrilled, a smile lingering on his lips. Honestly, I was thrilled too. As the bus pulled away, I could no longer hide the joy bubbling inside me. In a place he couldn’t see, I broke into a massive, goofy grin. By the time I realized we probably wouldn’t actually be seeing each other on Monday, the bus was already far away. 06 As soon as I got home, I rushed to plug in my phone, thinking I needed to add Noah on Snapchat first. I needed to give him a proper goodbye. But before my phone even turned back on, my mom snatched it away. “Leave it here to charge. Your aunt wants to take us out to a farewell dinner, let’s go.” I reluctantly followed my mom to the restaurant. My parents had always worked out of state. I grew up living with my grandparents. Now, my mom finally got a job transfer back to their home office so she could take care of me, and everyone was celebrating. But I was the only one distracted, my mind entirely on Noah. I ate that meal feeling like a year had passed. I finally made it through the dinner. When we got home, I tried to grab my phone again, but my mom stopped me. “Our flight is at 7 AM tomorrow. We have to be up by 5. Hurry up and get ready for bed.” I was anxious and tried to beg, but it was useless. I had no choice but to angrily comply. It wasn’t until we landed in our new city the next day that I finally got my phone back. But then I discovered… my Snapchat account had been deleted. The phone number I was using was registered under my grandmother’s name. Since I was moving away with my mom, my grandma had canceled that line. Afraid my account might get hacked and used for scams, she was very cautious and had my aunt log in and delete the associated Snapchat account too. My Instagram was also linked to that number, and I always logged in via SMS code. I had completely forgotten the password. Now, everything was gone. … I threw myself onto my bed in despair. “Mom, why did you guys cancel my number without telling me?!” My mom looked innocent. “I wasn’t involved! But Grandma said she already messaged your teachers and confirmed there was nothing important going on, so she felt comfortable canceling it. She also said she posted a goodbye message on your story for you. She said you should just focus on your studies.” I wanted to cry but had no tears left. Gee… thanks, Grandma. Hearing me complain about losing contact with my friends, my mom warned me that academics were the priority, and strictly limited my phone usage. Thinking about how my crush, which was so close to being reciprocated, was crushed in the cradle just like that, I was heartbroken. But I knew my mom was strict, especially about high school dating. I knew resistance was futile, so I helplessly accepted my fate. 07 After that, I was busy adapting to a new school, new teaching styles, and new classmates. I temporarily shelved the idea of contacting Noah. I didn’t have the time, nor the means. When I finally calmed down and thought about it, even if my feelings were reciprocated, it wasn’t the right time to date. Not only were we thousands of miles apart, but we were also in the highly stressful junior year of high school. Everything pointed to the fact that a temporary separation was the best outcome. But naturally, I felt regretful that I couldn’t give him a proper goodbye. However, this was the only way for now. I could only wait until after graduation to contact him again. If possible, then… With a thousand thoughts running through my mind, I sighed and muttered to myself, “Let fate decide.” After moping for a few days, I adjusted my mindset and threw myself entirely into studying. For Christmas that year, I traveled out of state with my mom to reunite with my dad, so we didn’t go back to my hometown. I had essentially lost all contact with Noah and my old friends completely. 08 Six months later, I got into my dream university and finally regained my phone freedom. With my grandmother’s help, I finally managed to contact my old best friend, Maya. After catching up on family gossip and crying over how much we missed each other, Maya brought up Noah. “What did you do to him? He went crazy looking for you. He cornered me every day asking for your contact info. I told him I didn’t have it, but he wouldn’t believe me. Finally, I showed him your deleted Snapchat profile, and he reluctantly accepted it, but he cursed you out, calling you a liar.” I felt a pang of guilt and deep apology. After all, in the internet age, disappearing without even a “goodbye” is pretty messed up. But I was also curious. Was our friendship, built on a single boba tea, really worth him going crazy trying to find me? “Did he mention why he was looking for me?” “No, but he did ask about which colleges you were aiming for. He was pretty depressed for a while. I almost thought you two had dated. Later on, he started dating a girl from another school. Her name is Chloe. He was super into her. I heard he even got custom-made bracelets with her name engraved on them.” My expression froze. The words “Can you help me get his contact info?” died in my throat. I couldn’t hide the disappointment welling up inside me. I gave a flat “Oh.” “Right, Noah told me before that if I ever got your contact info, I should tell him immediately…” “Don’t tell him. We weren’t that close anyway.” He probably only said those things when he didn’t have a girlfriend. Now that he had one, reconnecting with him was pointless. After all, my intentions toward him weren’t pure. I didn’t want to use the excuse of being “just a friend” to peek into someone else’s happiness and just add to my own misery. Since we missed our chance, let it go. Cutting off all contact completely was the smart decision. Even though my heart ached and I envied that girl named Chloe, I was, after all, only Emma. 09 Maya then started talking about her new boyfriend and asked if I was seeing anyone. I answered absentmindedly, “Yeah, a few guys.” Not caring about Maya’s screams on the other end, I made an excuse and hung up. My long-held hopes had fallen through. I sat on the balcony of my dorm, staring blankly. I opened an app and ordered a six-pack of beer, mourning my long-lost crush. While I was half-drunk, my roommate Mia came back. She looked totally lovesick. She grabbed me and started shaking me. “Emma, Emma! I saw the French professor’s son today. He is so handsome. His posture, his face… He should still be in the professor’s office right now. Let me take you to feast your eyes.” She couldn’t stop praising him. I scoffed and slapped her hand away. So what if he’s handsome? Can he be more handsome than Noah? I’ve never seen anyone better looking than him. Seeing that I was unmoved, she finally noticed the empty beer bottles next to me. “What’s wrong with you?” “Heartbreak.” “What?! With who? When?” She fired off three questions in terror. “It was a crush.” I told her about my crush that almost blossomed into a relationship. After listening, she also felt a sense of regret. “You were so close, if only you hadn’t transferred. Sigh… it’s in the past. Crushes are like that, regrets are normal.” As she spoke, she popped open a beer too. “It’s fine, I’ll introduce you to someone else. How about the professor’s son? He is absolutely your type.” I rolled my eyes at her and said sarcastically, “Why don’t you introduce me to the university president’s son, or all the hot, smart guys at our school while you’re at it?” Her eyes lit up. She threw her arm around me and patted her chest, guaranteeing: “I will! I definitely will. Leave it to me.” I let out a “Tch,” not taking her seriously at all, assuming she was just joking. I went about my business, washed up, and went to sleep. 10 The next evening, I went to a meeting for the Translation Club. The upperclassmen kept casting pitying glances at me. After some simple consolations, they started aggressively praising our club president, Liam. Only then did I realize that Mia had gotten totally drunk again. Not only had she spilled the beans about my “heartbreak,” but she had also taken my drunken joke from the night before as my actual standard for a partner, and was actively recruiting boyfriends for me in the club. In the end, everyone agreed that President Liam fit my criteria perfectly, and they started trying to set us up. President Liam was not only the president of our Translation Club, but also the nephew of our French professor. He had great grades and was very handsome. It’s just that his personality was a bit too mature and serious. He always gave off a “parental” vibe. He felt like an elder in my family. I only had respect for him, no sparks whatsoever. So, I rejected the idea without a second thought: “Guys, stop joking around. Liam and I are like brother and sister.” As I spoke, I looked over at Liam, signaling him to back me up. But he didn’t say a word, and he actually blushed. After a few seconds of confusion, I panicked. Could he actually… Seeing Liam’s silence, the crowd got even more excited. “The president is silently agreeing! Little Emma, you should seriously consider the president. We’re waiting for your answer.” “Yeah, yeah! We’re waiting for you to become the club’s First Lady.” My head was pounding. I didn’t know how to defuse the situation, so I just glared at Mia, that drunkard. Just then, there was a knock on the door. The French professor stood outside, smiling brightly. “I’ve been listening for a while. You guys are so lively.” The troublemakers, never ones to shy away from drama, added fuel to the fire: “Professor, you’re just in time! Emma is heartbroken and looking for a boyfriend. We think the president is a great match, so we’re shipping them.” “The president is your nephew! If they get together, Emma will be your niece-in-law, Professor!” Hearing this, the professor chuckled. “That’s a nice thought. I really adore Emma. But you can’t force matters of the heart. Plus, Emma just had her heart broken, so keep the jokes within reason.” The professor heard everything! I felt so humiliated…

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My boyfriend loved to test my love for him. He would fake being sick, making me run out in the pouring rain to buy him medicine in the middle of the night. He would deliberately leave hickeys on his neck just to make me jealous. He would even force me to wait three hours in the rain just to show off to his friends. I unilaterally announced our breakup. Yet, he still thought I was just throwing a tantrum. On my birthday, he called me. “Alright, stop being mad. Come to the Starlight Club tonight, I have a surprise for you.” I told him I was busy today, but he didn’t believe me, scoffing: “What could you possibly be busy with?” “I’m getting married today.” 01 I had been waiting downstairs with a cake for three hours. The messages I sent him vanished into thin air like stones dropped into the ocean. Just as I was about to leave, cheers erupted from the apartment upstairs. Ethan and his friends excitedly poked their heads over the balcony, whistling. “Sister-in-law! Ethan said you would wait for him in the rain for three hours! I can’t believe it’s actually true!” “Your love story is so enviable!” “Ethan is such a lucky guy!” They were loud, surrounding Ethan and cheering him on. I stared at them blankly, the colors of everything around me slowly fading to black and white. Only Ethan remained. He had a smirk on his face, looking at me like he was looking at a little puppy that had just earned him some bragging rights. Suddenly, it felt like my chest had been violently ripped open, the cold wind rushing in, freezing and painful. Ethan waved at me. “Chloe, come here.” I looked at him for a few seconds, turned around, and walked into the rain. I had been dating Ethan for five years. From the days when he had nothing, to now, when he had established his own company. I had been the unwavering witness to his transformation from a poor boy to a small business owner. When he closed his first business deal, he held me and cried like a child. “Chloe, I will definitely, definitely treat you well. I will love you forever.” Back then, he spoke with such sincerity. So much so that I believed him without hesitation. I don’t know when he changed. I only know that in my memory, the things he left me with were no longer beautiful. He once faked being sick and made me go out in the middle of the night to buy him medicine, just to test my love. It was the dead of winter, snowing heavily. As soon as I heard he was sick, I rushed out without a second thought to get him medicine. The roads were icy, and I fell four times. When I got back, Ethan stood at the door and gave me a hug. He said, “Baby, you’re the best.” He told me he wasn’t sick, he just wanted to test my love for him. I don’t know what I felt at the time, but the pain from the bruises on my legs made my eyes sting. Another time, Ethan deliberately left hickeys from other women on his neck just to make me jealous. We had the biggest fight in history, but he turned around and posted on Facebook. [My baby really loves me, otherwise she wouldn’t be so jealous.] Over the years, he had done too many absurd things. I was losing count. Passing by a trash can, I smashed the cake in my hands into it. After so many years, Ethan had finally depleted my love for him, bit by bit. 02 Walking in the rain, I was reminded of a rainy night many years ago. At that time, Ethan and I were only sophomores in college. It started raining on my way back from tutoring. As I stepped off the bus, I looked up and saw a boy standing under the dim streetlight. He was holding an umbrella, waiting for me. The moment he saw me, he ran over with a smile. He pulled a baked sweet potato from inside his jacket and shoved it into my hands: “It’s still hot, eat it quickly.” That kind of blatant, passionate affection, it was the first time I had ever felt it. But it had only been five years. The person was the same, but everything else had changed. Actually, I had been disappointed for a long time. I just clung greedily to the beautiful moments he once gave me, which was why I kept holding onto a sliver of hope. What if? What if he changed back? The facts proved that it was just my wishful thinking. From the moment he started treating my kindness towards him as his bragging rights, the love between us had already mutated… Today was his birthday, and I originally wanted to have a serious talk with him. About us, about our future. Ethan didn’t give me that chance; he used three hours to make me face reality. There was no future between us anymore. Thinking about it that way, those three hours were actually quite worth it. Before walking out of their line of sight, I heard them talking. “Sister-in-law seems mad.” “Should you go coax her, Ethan?” Ethan’s casual voice rose slightly: “No need, she’s just throwing a tantrum.” “After all these years, I’m used to it. It won’t be long before she comes back on her own.” He was very confident. He felt that since he was successful now, even if I was stupid, I wouldn’t give up on a catch like him. But I would not be coming back. Ethan, I don’t want you anymore. 03 That entire night, Ethan didn’t call me once. The next morning, I stood downstairs and watched him leave for the office before returning to the apartment we shared. I left him a letter. I didn’t even need to pack any luggage, just my ID and passport. When I pushed the door open to leave, I couldn’t help but look back one last time. This was the apartment Ethan and I rented after graduation. At the time, it was just a bare concrete box. We decorated it ourselves, picked out furniture together, hung decorative lights together. Later, when we had money, we bought this apartment. The apartment was very small, but we never moved out. Every little detail here held our memories. Now, those memories felt like a joke. On the day I boarded the plane to leave Seattle, I changed my SIM card. I left everything related to Ethan behind in that city. Years later, I finally returned to Los Angeles. The taxi was stopped at the entrance of the prestigious Oakwood Estates: “This is a private residential area. Unauthorized entry is prohibited.” I rolled down the car window: “Uncle Charles, it’s me.” The elderly security guard looked at me with wide eyes, head lowered: “Miss! Miss, you’re finally back!” “…” There weren’t many people in the sprawling estate. So I knelt in the courtyard for an hour before someone quietly brought me a cushion. “Dad, I really know I was wrong.” My father, his hair already turning gray, lay in a rocking chair with his eyes closed. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “I can still remember how fiercely determined you were when you left home for that poor boy.” “Your mother tried so hard to persuade you, but you wouldn’t listen to a single word.” “I hit you, I scolded you, but what was the result? You said you wanted to sever your ties with me…” “Dad.” My tears couldn’t be held back anymore, spilling out: “I regret it.” “From now on, I will do whatever you tell me to do.” The rocking chair stopped moving. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at me. “Since that’s the case, you should go ahead and hold the wedding with Liam first!” I froze for a moment. “Liam?” That unfamiliar name dug out memories I had almost forgotten. The Sterling family and my family were old friends. I was engaged to Liam when I was eighteen. Back when I was so fiercely determined to leave Los Angeles for Ethan, before I left, I specifically went to apologize to Liam and asked him to step forward and break off the engagement with me. What did he say back then? He said: “Growing up, when have I ever denied you anything you wanted?” So I naturally assumed that the engagement between him and me was no longer valid. I looked up, confused: “Liam, isn’t he married yet?” By my calculations, he should be thirty by now. “Who would he marry if you weren’t here?” My mom came out from inside carrying a fruit platter, put it on the table, and glanced at me: “Aren’t you going to stand up? Kneeling there is in the way.” I stumbled to my feet. I heard my mom say: “Since you’re back, the first thing you need to do is hurry to the Sterling family to apologize, and while you’re at it, go get the marriage license with Liam.” 04 When I went to the Sterling family, Liam wasn’t there. I heard he was abroad negotiating a project. The elders of the Sterling family were very happy to see me. This was quite different from the scene I had imagined; there were no cold stares or sarcastic remarks. “I heard you went abroad to clear your head these past few years. Now that you’re back, I assume you won’t be leaving again for a while?” I nodded in a daze: “Yes.” Auntie Sterling took my hand: “Back then, our Liam broke off the engagement with you without explanation. That was indeed inappropriate of our Sterling family. Your Uncle Sterling has already disciplined him, and we can understand you running abroad to clear your head.” “So now, about your marriage with Liam…” I felt so ashamed I wanted the ground to swallow me whole: “I’ll leave it entirely up to the elders of both families.” After leaving the Sterling house, I called Liam. It didn’t take many seconds for him to answer. Liam’s voice hadn’t changed much; it was still as calm and collected as ever, deep and magnetic: “Hello?” “Liam, it’s me.” Facing Liam, I felt very guilty. “I didn’t expect the engagement between us to still be…” I paused: “I thought you’d mind being entangled with someone like me, I’ll figure something out as soon as possible, to see if there’s a way to resolve this in the most peaceful…” He interrupted me before I could finish. “Mind what?” He said: “It’s not like you committed murder or arson. You just had a rather unpleasant relationship with someone else, that’s not a stain on your character.” “When is the wedding date?” He changed the subject so fast, I couldn’t react. “It hasn’t been set yet… but both sets of parents are very anxious.” “Okay, I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Until the call ended, I was in a daze. Actually, kids from families like ours should have realized early on that our marriages are not in our own hands. Understanding it is one thing; accepting it calmly is another. I thought, I should learn from Liam on this point. Liam returned half a month later, and on the day he returned, he brought gifts to Oakwood Estates. He had become more mature and reserved, speaking mildly and modestly to my dad, and he effortlessly made my mom happy without showing off. No wonder they liked him so much. I watched him from the side, and the moment his gaze shifted to me, I looked down and took a sip of tea. My wedding with Liam was set for May 5th. That day was also my birthday. While getting my makeup done in the morning, I received a call from an unfamiliar number. “Hello?” “Holy crap, this number really is you!” The voice sounded exactly like Ethan’s friend, Kevin: “Sister-in-law! I finally found you!” “Sister-in-law, where have you been hiding this whole time? Ethan’s been going crazy!” I didn’t know how he found out about this number. I just frowned slightly: “Stop contacting me, he and I have already broken up.” Suddenly, there was a commotion on the other end, and someone else took the phone. “You just left me a letter and unilaterally proposed a breakup, I didn’t agree, so it doesn’t count!” It was Ethan. “Chloe, what exactly are you mad about this time? Is it just because I made you wait in the rain for three hours?” “Is such a trivial thing worth running away from home over?” I listened in silence, too lazy to even argue with him. He made me realize once again that my decision to leave was absolutely correct. “OK, I apologize.” Ethan’s voice softened: “Baby, don’t be mad, okay? I just felt insecure and wanted to test your love for me, please don’t be mad.” “Today is your birthday, I prepared a surprise for you at the Starlight Club, could you please come over?” There were cheers from men and women in the background. “Sister-in-law! Ethan’s going to propose to you!” “Whoa~ So romantic!” “Get lost!” Ethan laughed and scolded: “If you say it out loud, it’s not a surprise anymore!” Listening to the noise over there, my head throbbed, and I couldn’t help but rub my temples. The makeup artist was startled and hurriedly asked: “I’m sorry Miss Davis, did I hurt you?” “No, keep going.” “Okay Miss Davis, I will definitely make you the most beautiful bride in the world today!” On the other end, Ethan froze: “Chloe, what are you doing?” I was silent for a few seconds, then said word by word: “Ethan, I’m getting married today.” There was no sound on the other end, and just as I was about to hang up, Ethan suddenly laughed. “Chloe, you’ve learned from me, haven’t you? Are you trying to make me jealous too? You almost had me fooled.” His tone was deliberately light. I suddenly felt a sense of relief. Maybe I had figured it out, I would never have any entanglement with him again in the future. “I’m not fooling you, we got the license last month, holding the wedding today.” I also smiled: “I won’t invite you for drinks, it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to come, my husband probably wouldn’t be happy either.” “Chloe!” Ethan’s voice suddenly spiked: “Are you done making a scene or not! You…” I hung up the phone, pulled out the SIM card, and threw it in the trash. The makeup artist was also frightened by me and didn’t move for a while. I faced the mirror and smiled at her: “Sorry about that, please continue.” 05 My wedding with Liam was held in a church in Los Angeles. The scene decoration didn’t look like a standard assembly line job; it was clearly done with care. I couldn’t help but ask an assistant: “Which company did this? It’s quite nice.” The assistant replied in a low voice: “Miss Davis, this was personally designed by Mr. Sterling.” “Ah…” I was stunned. I didn’t expect Liam to be so attentive to this arranged marriage. There was someone guiding me all the way on what to do and how to do it. I just walked into the hall in a daze like that. Liam, wearing a crisp suit, had his back to me. At the priest’s signal, he turned his head and looked over. With the cheers of the crowd filling my ears, I gazed at Liam from afar. Was I seeing things? The smile in his eyes actually seemed quite sincere. Perhaps I should learn from him and perform my superficial duties to the extreme. I adjusted the expression on my face, was led forward by my father, until I placed my hand in Liam’s warm palm. The wedding proceeded very smoothly, except after the ceremony ended, we were dragged around by our parents to socialize with numerous uncles and aunties. My legs were almost worn out from all the walking. It wasn’t until 11:00 PM that we finally returned to the bridal suite. It was a small villa, the surrounding environment was very nice and quite peaceful. I went off on my own to shower and remove my makeup. By the time I finished and came out, it was already midnight. Liam was sitting on the sofa in his pajamas, his hair not completely dry, a few stray strands falling across his forehead. This was quite different from his usual meticulous, elite appearance, making him seem… much more approachable. I saw him looking down at a tablet and instinctively said: “Still working this late?” Liam’s gaze shifted from the tablet, and he looked up at me: “I’m not working, I’m waiting for you.” Liam and I really weren’t very close, and we rarely chatted. While I was wondering why he was waiting for me, I saw him put down the tablet in his hand, get up, and walk towards me. “It’s getting late.” I nodded: “Yes, it is late.” So? Liam: “Time for bed.” In my momentary distraction, Liam had already pinned me against the wall, his hand resting on the back of my head, forcing me to look up at him. I was bewildered by his sudden action. Before I could react, I felt the change in the mature male body pressing against me from the front. The air around us began to grow thick and scorching. My thoughts slowed down. Maybe it was because I hadn’t been touched by a man in a long time, maybe it was because Liam’s body was truly top-tier, or maybe it was because his gaze was too intense. I found myself inexplicably reaching out to wrap my arms around his neck. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” He and I got married today, our identities were as legal as they could possibly be. We hadn’t signed any prenuptial agreements, and I definitely didn’t plan on being celibate forever. Now that there was such a man here to pleasure me, I couldn’t really resist. In just a few seconds, I convinced myself. We’re both just getting what we need. We’re all adults here. We stumbled into the bedroom all the way. I don’t even know where the robes on our bodies were thrown. I originally thought Liam was the ascetic, aloof type, or at worst, someone who was secretly wild but outwardly proper. But who knew he didn’t even pretend, directly exposing his truest self and desires to me. The chandelier on the ceiling wasn’t lit, but it kept swaying before my eyes… The moment my thoughts drifted to the clouds, I couldn’t help but take a bite of Liam’s shoulder. He let out a muffled groan, then chuckled softly. “Chloe, why do you still love biting people so much?” I didn’t hear that sentence clearly; I was already not quite lucid by then. I don’t know how many times I bit him, I only know that when I woke up the next day, Liam had his back to me, getting dressed. The exposed muscles on his back were well-proportioned and attractive; they would look even better if you could ignore the red and purple bite marks. I silently buried my head under the covers and began to pretend to be asleep. Liam finished dressing, walked straight over, and patted my head through the blanket. “I know you’re awake, if you don’t want to get up, don’t. I’m heading to the office first, remember to eat when you get up, and if you feel uncomfortable anywhere, give me a call.” He said all of this unhurriedly. His voice was still a bit hoarse. It wasn’t until the sound of the door closing rang out that I slowly poked my head out from under the covers. Lying flat on my back on the bed, I stared blankly at the large chandelier above. This was really not what I had expected… 06 My relationship with Liam actually drew much closer after that night. He would come back at night to have dinner with me, listen to me gossip about the wealthy elite circle, and occasionally respond to me. And I would accompany him to various galas and cocktail parties, playing the role of an elegant wife by his side. As a bedmate, Liam was even more qualified. He didn’t have the habit of messing around outside, got regular health checkups, was healthy, rigorously selected by the Davis family, and always guaranteed. I became more and more satisfied with this arranged marriage. My parents also noticed my changes. “Chloe, it’s been a month since you got married, you seem to have gained a little weight, and your complexion is much better.” My mom smiled: “It shows that Liam knows how to care for people.” “They say loving someone is like raising a flower, you can tell at a glance if the flower is raised well.” Speaking of this, my mom changed her tone and sighed: “Looking at how haggard you were when you suddenly came back before, it broke my heart just looking at you.” My strong smile froze for a moment. “Tsk, I was in such a good mood.” My dad was still very quick at changing the subject: “Now that you’re married, you should settle down. How about this, come intern at the company next month, familiarize yourself with the company business.” He had the final say, arranging my future work. When I got home that evening, Liam was just heading to his study. He was meticulous in his work, sometimes staying in the study until midnight. He asked me: “Have you eaten?” “Yes?” I politely asked back: “And you?” “No.” I paused: “It’s so late… I sent you a message saying I wouldn’t be back for dinner.” Liam nodded: “I saw it, but because you weren’t here, I didn’t have much of an appetite.” What he said was a bit intriguing, and I stared at him for a few seconds without speaking. Liam walked into the study, paused, and turned to look at me: “Do you need something?” I looked away, pretending nothing had happened and picked at my nails: “Nothing much, my dad said he wants me to help out at the company. I’m planning to buy an apartment near the company, it’s too far from here, commuting isn’t very convenient.” “Then buy one.” Liam said: “Let me know when you decide on the location, I’ll have someone set it up. We’ll need to buy another set of the things we’re used to using.” Huh? We… us? I jerked my head up: “Are you moving there too?” Liam looked at me, his tone flat: “We’ve only been married for a little over a month, and you want to separate from me already?” But I actually detected a hint of grievance in that flat tone? “That’s not what I meant… If you want to move there, fine.” “Then it’s settled.” Liam smiled: “Get some sleep, wife.” Me: “?” Until he closed the study door, I was still a bit dizzy. Did Liam take the wrong medicine? Before going to work at the company, Liam and I moved into an apartment nearby. I didn’t buy a very big one, since it was just the two of us living there, and he wouldn’t be there every day, so buying a big one would be a waste. My dad didn’t publicly reveal my identity at the company, he just had me work as a small assistant by his side, teaching me by example every day, assigning me a ton of tasks. He was seriously grooming me. Once I got busy, the days flew by. In the blink of an eye, half a year had passed. In early winter, an unexpected guest arrived at the company. Kevin. When I walked past the General Manager’s office with documents, he chased right after me. “Sister-in-law?” Kevin looked at me in confusion: “Why are you here?” I didn’t expect to run into him here either, and smiled politely: “I work here, and also, I’m not your sister-in-law.” He was a bit embarrassed: “Sorry, I misspoke.” He was also an executive at a company, and was probably here to talk business today. I didn’t say much to him, walked straight into the elevator, and headed to the top floor. Kevin stood there for a few seconds, then turned and went inside. He asked the manager: “What’s the position of the young lady who was just here at your company?” “Chairman’s Assistant.” The General Manager was confused: “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, nothing.” Kevin thought for a moment and asked: “Do you know what her husband does?” The General Manager was taken aback and turned to look at his secretary. The secretary said: “Assistant Davis doesn’t seem to be married yet, right? I’ve never heard her mention her husband…” The first thing Kevin did when he left the company was to call Ethan. “Ethan! Guess who I ran into today?!”

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I have a weird kink: I love being a simp. There is nothing I enjoy more than showering guys with unrequited attention; it adds a little spice to my otherwise boring life. Recently, I locked onto a totally aloof, high-and-mighty guy. I’ve been simping over him for two months, and he barely gives me the time of day. I was very satisfied with this. But I get bored easily, and I quickly found myself a new god to worship. A few days later, the aloof guy reached out to me on his own for the very first time: [You’ve been busy lately?] I was right in the middle of having dinner with my new crush: [I sure am, babe. Work has been crazy lately, I’m still at the office doing overtime.] Aloof guy: [Overtime?] Me: [Yep yep.] Aloof guy: [Then why don’t you look behind you?] 1 My best friend Chloe broke her leg, so I went to visit her at a high-end private hospital. We were gossiping in her room when her attending physician happened to walk in. I looked over, and instantly froze. The man was tall and lean, his crisp white coat fitting perfectly. He had a cold, untouchable aura and an aloof expression. As he went over the medical precautions with Chloe, his voice sounded like a clear, deep mountain spring—crisp, low, and magnetic. Standing to the side, I couldn’t help but stare at his high, straight nose bridge, his thick eyelashes, and those long, knobby, elegant fingers gripping the medical chart. As soon as he left, I exploded. “Give me your doctor’s contact info, right now!” Chloe gave me a deadpan look. “What for?” I kept a completely straight face. “My contact list is missing a cold, unattainable god.” She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck in the back of her head. “Just admit your simp disease is acting up again.” In the end, she still forwarded me his contact card. I quickly sent a friend request. His username was probably his real name: Silas Vance. His profile wasn’t set to private, so I casually scrolled through his feed. It was all shared articles. Medical lectures, disease research, or health science pop-eds. It looked like a purely professional account. It took a long time before Silas accepted my request. Me: [Hi Dr. Vance, I’m the friend of your patient, Chloe. My name is Sloane.] Silas: [Hmm.] Me: [About when will she be discharged?] Silas: [The day after tomorrow.] Me: [Thank you for taking such good care of her.] Silas: [It’s my job.] I was stuck. His strictly-business, ice-cold attitude made me wonder how I was even supposed to start my simping routine. No, I had to establish a presence first. For the next two days, under the guise of taking care of my best friend, I practically lived at the hospital. My makeup was flawless, my outfits dazzling. Chloe looked like she wanted to physically sweep me out of the room. Facts proved that this method was highly effective. The next time I saw Silas, his eyes paused on me for two full seconds before shifting away. Feeling smug, I went back and continued sending him harmless trash-talk on text. At the end of our chat, Silas paused for a moment. Silas: [Ms. Sloane.] Me: [Here, here!] Silas: [The hospital has patients with respiratory diseases. I suggest you wear less perfume.] Me: […] 2 The day Chloe was discharged, I was devastated. Chloe almost beat me to death. “Give it up. I asked the nurses. Silas is apparently a trust fund kid; you absolutely cannot simp your way to him.” I got even more excited. “It’s only fun if I can’t catch him. If I catch him, it’s boring.” Chloe was silent for a few seconds. “I truly cannot understand you.” I smiled. Sometimes, I don’t understand myself either. After Chloe was discharged, I continued to “harass” Silas. Of course, as a simp with professional etiquette, I only picked times when he wasn’t busy. For example, pretending to seek medical advice: [Dr. Vance, my neck has been really stiff lately, when do you work next?] He directly sent me a link to the hospital’s portal: [Book an appointment online.] Or, for example, I’d leave comments under the dry medical articles he shared: [You work so hard!], [So impressive!], [Learned a lot!] He replied to none of them. I suddenly realized a problem. I still didn’t know if he was single. This was a very serious issue, and I decided to ask him in person. On Tuesday afternoon, I booked an outpatient consultation with Silas. The co-pay was expensive, but to continue my happy simping journey, I endured it. Before long, the nurse called my name and led me into Silas’s office. This was my first time alone with Silas. From less than two meters away, I could see the tiny mole on his high nose bridge, his distinct, thick eyelashes, and his perfectly shaped, pale pink lips. He looked up at me. My heart suddenly skipped a beat. He gestured for me to sit and asked me to describe my symptoms. After I stuttered through a description, he asked a few more questions. I had never been this nervous in my life. Silas had very dark pupils, and when he looked at you seriously, there was a deeply focused gentleness to it. It was a stark contrast to his cold, aloof aura. My mind went blank, and I babbled a bunch of nonsense. Silas listened patiently for a long time, and finally gave his advice: “Ms. Sloane, I personally don’t think your cervical spine issue is severe. If you’re still uncomfortable, I can refer you to physical therapy.” I snapped back to reality and shook my head repeatedly. It wasn’t until I walked out of the office that I realized I’d forgotten my main objective. When I turned around to go back, I saw Silas had already left his office and was walking to the end of the hallway. I looked down at my phone; it was already past 5 PM. I had actually held him up from clocking out. I chased after him. “Dr. Vance.” He turned around. “I feel a little dizzy.” He frowned slightly. “Just started?” “Yeah.” “Then let’s get you an MRI first, once we get the scans we’ll…” He didn’t finish his sentence. My vision went black, and I passed out. I lied to Silas. I didn’t have a neck problem. I had hypoglycemia. 3 In a haze, I was still somewhat conscious. I felt someone pick me up. The embrace was broad, firm, and full of a sense of security. Not long after the nurse hooked me up to an IV, I finally forced my heavy eyelids open. Someone was standing beside me. I looked up and saw Silas, his brows furrowed. “If you have a history of low blood sugar, remember to eat your meals on time.” He dropped that sentence, turned around, and prepared to leave. “Silas.” This was the first time I’d called him by his first name. He paused and looked back at me. I finally remembered the purpose of my trip: “Are you single?” A hint of impatience flashed in Silas’s eyes, and he frowned slightly. “Ms. Sloane, if you don’t have anything else…” “Are you?” I asked again. Silas paused for two seconds. “Yes.” He turned to leave, but I grabbed his arm. He looked back again, the displeasure obvious on his face. Acting as if I didn’t see it, I looked up at him and flashed a genuinely sincere smile from the bottom of my heart. “Then… is it okay if I have a crush on you?” After I said that, I clearly saw his dark pupils—which had just been filled with annoyance—tremble twice. 4 I had committed the cardinal sin of simping. Simp Rule #1: Sweet words, cold heart. Never throw a straight pitch. Silas’s previous life had probably been too orderly; he’d never seen someone as brazen and direct as me. One sentence, and I’d scared him away. Leaving the hospital, I fell into deep regret. Now I probably couldn’t even keep my spot on his contacts list. Hesitating for a moment, I tried sending a message: [Are you still alive on my list?] It actually went through. I quickly unsent it. Silas replied with an ellipsis. Silas: [Alive.] Me: […] Crap, he saw it. Me: [Sorry about that, my brain was a bit fuzzy today. I was just talking nonsense.] He didn’t reply. I scrolled through TikTok for a while before a notification finally popped up. Silas: [Hmm.] Died before the battle even began. Revealing my intentions too early made my ensuing path as a simp incredibly difficult. During our next few chats, Silas barely entertained me. Fortunately, I was an experienced simp and knew when to advance and when to retreat. I drastically lowered the frequency of my check-ins and picked the perfect moments. Like saying a harmless “Good work” after he finished a night shift, or asking “Been busy lately?” on his day off. After retreating to a safe, non-invasive distance, Silas would occasionally exchange a few words with me. I never dragged the conversations out, always quitting while I was ahead. After all, I had my own life to live. When I asked, “Off work yet?”, and he replied “Yeah,” I knew he was no longer repulsed by my presence. Suddenly, I really wanted to see him. Picking a slow weekend, I sat in the outpatient lobby waiting for him to get off work. Honestly, I didn’t even know if I’d catch him. But since I didn’t have a strong motive, I treated it as a little spice to my day. If it happens, it happens. Coincidentally, I did see him. And I witnessed quite a dramatic scene. Silas had already changed into his street clothes and was about to leave, but a girl blocked his path. From a distance, I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could see Silas frowning, impatience bleeding into his eyes. It looked exactly like the expression he gave me that day. Probably another relentless pursuer. Sure enough, as I got closer, I heard their conversation. “Ms. Harper, I personally think you’d be better off switching to another doctor.” “Silas, I’m not here to see you as a patient, I…” “Sweetie,” I walked over and cut her off. “Dr. Vance is off the clock. I don’t think he wants to be bothered anymore.” My sudden appearance startled her. Because she was young, she blushed, muttered an “Okay,” and hurried away. Silas frowned and glanced at me. I had no intention of bothering him further. I nodded at him, turned around, and walked away. While I was standing on the curb waiting for an Uber, an SUV pulled up in front of me. The window slowly rolled down. I raised an eyebrow and walked over with interest. “Dr. Vance, do you have something to say to me?” Silas had both hands on the steering wheel, eyes fixed straight ahead, his voice cool. “Sloane.” That was the first time he’d called me by my name. My heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?” “I don’t like being bothered after work.” I paused. Was he referring to that girl’s behavior just now? I looked down and smiled in understanding. “My intentions are different from hers.” Silas turned his head to look at me. The streetlights cast shifting shadows across his face. His dark pupils were filled with suspicion and probing. He scoffed, a bit dismissively. “How is it different?” “I just came to the hospital to sit. If I see you, great; if not, whatever. I don’t demand your response. Whether I like you or not is my own business. If I bothered you, I won’t come around anymore.” The way he looked at me was full of pure confusion. I figured normal people probably couldn’t comprehend my mindset. So I smiled and added, “Silas, the fact that I like you just proves you’re a really outstanding person.” He didn’t respond. I waved at him. “Get home safe. Bye.” 5 After that, I rarely bothered Silas. Simp Rule #2: Quit while you’re ahead. Besides, as a seasoned corporate drone, I long ago lost the time to daydream like a little girl. Occasionally, when I thought of him, I’d send a message. Probably because I had a good sense of boundaries, he always replied. Even though he didn’t say much, he never showed any annoyance. One morning, my calendar popped up with a reminder: Silas’s Birthday. I had dug that up from the hospital’s staff directory back when I first got interested in him. I really was a dedicated simp. If this were in the past, I might have sent a gift. But since I had no plans to intrude on his actual life, I figured a simple text would do. That night, I stayed up late writing a proposal. As soon as the clock struck midnight, I casually texted him: [Happy Birthday.] Silas didn’t reply. Expected. I didn’t think much of it. When I finally finished my proposal and collapsed into bed at 2 AM, my phone lit up. Silas: [Thank you.] I quickly replied: [No problem.] Silas: [Still awake?] Since he was a guy I had simped for, the reflex was still there. I smoothly typed: [Waiting for your reply, obviously.] Me: [Why are you still awake?] He paused for a bit. Silas: [Just got out of surgery.] Me: [You work so hard.] Me: [Wishing you a new year filled with winning the lottery, endless green lights, and always finding the cool side of the pillow.] Me: [But most importantly, stay happy.] “Typing…” appeared for two minutes. Silas: [Hmm.] Silas: [Go to sleep.] I didn’t think there was anything inappropriate about that night’s conversation. After all, nobody hates hearing nice birthday wishes, right? Facts proved me right. After that day, I could clearly feel Silas talking more during our chats. Sometimes he’d even share things happening around him. Of course, from beginning to end, he never initiated a conversation. Still the aloof god. That was fine, I was very satisfied. A month later, Chloe went to the hospital to get her cast off. I happened to be free, so I went with her. Honestly, I didn’t go with the intention of seeing Silas, so when I saw him in the hospital, I was very calm. It was just a normal doctor-patient-family dynamic. But when Silas was talking to Chloe, his gaze landed on me several times. I discreetly sniffed my wrist. Did the perfume I sprayed yesterday last until today? After the cast came off, Chloe’s boyfriend came to pick her up. They invited me to dinner, but I didn’t want to be a third wheel, so I made up an excuse about having plans and told them to go ahead. Walking out to the lobby, I bumped into Silas, who was just getting off work. Afraid he’d think I was waiting for him on purpose, I quickened my pace, trying to leave the hospital before him. Silas suddenly called out: “Sloane.” I slammed on the brakes. He took long strides and stopped in front of me: “Why are you running?” I blinked. “I wasn’t running.” Silas choked on his words. The air grew weirdly silent. The after-hours lobby was dimly lit. Looking up at Silas, I easily recalled the way he frowned at me from inside his car the last time we met. I lowered my head. “Well… have a good night, I’m taking off.” I took two steps past him before he called out again. I turned around. “Want to grab dinner together?” He still had that cold expression; his brows didn’t even twitch. But I could clearly hear my heart accelerate for two seconds. We chose a chain burger joint across from the hospital. It was dinner time, so it was pretty packed. The noisy environment slightly eased the awkwardness. Sitting across from Silas, I suddenly felt completely out of my depth. In all my years of being a simp, I rarely felt this way. When the food arrived, we both kept our heads down and ate without a single word of exchange, like strangers forced to share a table. But my eyes inevitably drifted to him. He sat perfectly straight, chewing almost soundlessly. Paired with his perpetually expressionless face, he looked like a Michelin judge critically evaluating the food. I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Is it good?” Silas looked up. I rubbed my nose. “You look so serious eating it.” The corner of his lips curled up. This was the first time I’d seen Silas smile. Under the warm white lights, his eyes softened, his eyelashes fluttered, and his pale lips curved into a gentle arc. Those dark eyes, now brimming with amusement, looked at me again. I suddenly lost my voice. Honestly, if someone didn’t know Silas, they might not even realize he was smiling. But in my heart, one sentence kept echoing on loop: The fragrance of a high mountain flower is truly an exclusive reward for the brave mountaineer. “Yeah, it’s good,” he said. In the end, Silas drove me home. We barely spoke on the way. When we arrived, I said “Bye,” and he replied “Hmm.” It looked like just two casual friends who happened to grab a bite. But I vaguely felt that something was different now. And that difference made me panic. 6 Ever since I was a teenager, I realized I was a bit different from other girls. I was easily attracted to dazzling, outstanding guys, and could effortlessly harbor crushes, chase them, and express my affection without any emotional baggage. But the moment they reciprocated, all my feelings would vanish into thin air. After it happened a few times, I got tired of it. I forced myself to date a decent guy for a while. In the end, we had an ugly breakup. He pointed a finger in my face and demanded, “Sloane, were you just playing me from the very beginning?” I wanted to tell him no, I really wasn’t. In the beginning, my feelings for him were so genuine and pure, without any ulterior motives, not even demanding a response. I didn’t understand why I was like this. Later on, I simply stopped trying to date and focused on being a simp. If the guy didn’t respond, perfect. If he did, I ran. It satisfied me without hurting anyone else. So, when I sensed a shift in Silas’s attitude, I chose to ice him out. For several days, I didn’t text him. But since I’d spent almost two months on him, I couldn’t bear to delete him. I let him lie quietly in my contact list. A colorful stroke in my history of simping. At the same time, I found a new male god. Our company’s new Creative Director, Liam Sterling. Handsome, highly capable, and extremely polite. Most importantly, he looked like the type who would never fall for me. I was very pleased. At his welcome dinner, I successfully got on his radar and added him on IG. Casually scrolling through his feed, I noticed his favorite restaurant. So, on Friday night, I walked into that $100-a-plate Italian restaurant I probably would never visit otherwise, and faked a very coincidental encounter with Liam, who was dining alone. Acting super familiar, I sat right across from him. He just raised an eyebrow in surprise, showing no signs of disgust. Simp Rule #3: Maintain an atmosphere of push-and-pull. I didn’t immediately act overly eager. Instead, I brought up some light topics to open the conversation. As time passed, we fell into a rhythm. He started talking more, sometimes even actively guiding the conversation. I was incredibly satisfied. Just as we were having a great time, my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced down. Silas’s name blared on the screen. Silas: [You’ve been busy lately?] ??? He was actually initiating a text? But unfortunate for him, my affections had already shifted. So, I pulled out my playbook for brushing guys off. Me: [I sure am, babe. Work has been crazy lately, I’m still at the office doing overtime.] To make sure he wouldn’t reply, I even laid it on thick, acting like a total pick-me by calling him “babe.” Yeah, that should be gross enough, right? I had just locked my screen when another message came in. Silas: [Overtime?] He actually replied? Any other time, I’d play along and chat with him. But right now, I was sitting across from my new crush. How could I keep staring at my phone? So I brushed him off: [Yep yep.] He didn’t reply again. I quickly shoved my phone in my pocket and went back to laughing and talking with Liam. Then, my phone buzzed again. I held back for two seconds before pulling it out, intending to turn it on silent. I accidentally glanced at the latest message. Silas: [Then why don’t you look behind you.] 7 My brain exploded with a loud boom. Waves of numbness shot down my spine. Bracing myself, I slowly turned around. Not far behind me, in a corner booth by the window, sat the very iceberg I had been simping over for two months: Silas. He was leaning back, arms crossed, staring at me with an unreadable expression. Is there any situation more horrifying than this? I actually felt the bizarre guilt of being caught cheating. Even though I wasn’t involved with either of these men! I frantically turned back around. Liam noticed my weird behavior and glanced behind me. “Everything okay?” I opened my mouth to explain when another text popped up. Silas: [Having fun?] Me: […] Was this divine punishment for being a serial chaser? Silas: [Come over here.] I looked up at Liam. Me: [Why?] Silas: [Do me a favor.] What favor could he possibly need? Then again, favors were rare, but simping is a long game. I gritted my teeth and excused myself to Liam. “Liam, I just saw a friend I know. I’m gonna go say hi for a bit.” Liam paused but agreed easily. “Sure, go ahead.” I bolted over to Silas’s table. “What do you need help with?” He took a sip of water before looking up at me. “I’m on a blind date.” My face was full of question marks. “Where’s the date?” “Restroom.” No wonder I hadn’t noticed him earlier; he had been blocked by his date. I suddenly realized something. “Wait, you don’t want me to crash your blind date, do you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Yes.” Me: […] What do you mean ‘Yes’?! Do I look like a professional homewrecker? I was about to argue when his date returned. I hijacked her seat. “And this is…?” the gorgeous woman asked, looking at Silas. Amidst the awkward tension, I shot up like my chair was on fire. “Ms. Greene.” Just as I stood up, Silas spoke. My heart clenched tightly. Please don’t tell me he was about to paint me as his crazy stalker ex. “This is my ex-girlfriend.” I froze. Holy crap, I guessed right? “There are still some unresolved feelings between us, so…” Unresolved feelings? I whipped my head to stare at Silas. The woman called Ms. Greene paused, then replied with utmost grace and understanding: “I understand.” And left on her own. That easy? Wait. Since Ms. Greene was so understanding, Silas could have just rejected her directly. Why drag me over for this unnecessary “favor”? Before I could question him, Silas beat me to it. “Overtime?” Me: […] I forced an explanation: “I was working overtime earlier.” Silas let out an “Oh,” and said, “And then came to the restaurant to continue your overtime?” Me: […] Fine. Lying is wrong, I take the L. I pursed my lips and prepared to leave. Silas, probably thinking I was going back to Liam’s table, reminded me deadpan, “He left.” I looked over. He really had left. When I turned back, Silas was staring at me. Those dark eyes were completely unreadable. In a flash, it felt like the night we ate burgers together. I felt that same sudden awkwardness. The air was quiet for a few seconds before he looked away. His voice was hoarse, almost like a sigh. “I’ll take you home.” Sitting in his familiar car, the atmosphere was even colder than last time. Silas maintained his expressionless facade, but through the tight line of his jaw, I could sense his displeasure. I tried to lighten the mood: “That restaurant tonight was pretty good, huh.” Duh, every bite was literally eating money, of course it was good. Silas didn’t reply. The temperature dropped another few degrees. I kept forcing a smile. “I can’t believe someone as amazing as you has to go on blind dates. Ms. Greene seemed lovely, you weren’t into her?” Silas still didn’t reply. …Whatever, silence it is. I looked down, awkwardly rubbing my nose, when he suddenly called my name: “Sloane.” “Yeah?” “Are you always like this?” I didn’t process it at first, turning to him: “Huh?” “Casually liking someone, and then instantly moving on to the next.” I froze completely. He kept his eyes on the road. The streetlights blurred past the window, making it impossible to read his expression. But I could feel the air pressure drop to zero. I swallowed hard. “I told you, I don’t demand a response. Whether I like someone or not is entirely my own business.” The moment the words left my mouth, Silas’s knuckles on the steering wheel turned white. “So why do you have to do it?” His voice was freezing. “Not asking for a response, just blindly expressing affection… aren’t you afraid of burdening the other person?” Of course I was afraid. That’s exactly why I only picked guys who would never fall for me. “As long as they don’t like me back, there’s no burden, right?” Silas paused. We hit a red light. As the car stopped, the neon glow illuminated his clenched jaw and furrowed brow. An indescribable emotion flared up in my chest. Blood rushed to my head, and I blurted out: “Don’t tell me you fell for me?” The light turned green. Silas slammed on the gas. I was thrown back into my seat as I heard his icy reply: “I haven’t.”

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My online boyfriend is incredibly good at swearing. Especially when he’s roasting my annoying boss. He can curse him out for ten minutes straight without repeating a single word. Then, one day, I accidentally pocket-dialed a video call. My online boyfriend answered instantly. And then, the handsome, chilling face of my boss filled the screen. “…” I was completely speechless. 1 [Baby, want to play a game?] When my online boyfriend sent that message, I was still stuck at the office, miserably grinding through overtime. I replied bitterly: [Can’t. Still working.] [Why are you still working so late?] [Poor baby.] I replied, feeling sorry for myself: [Management forced it. Honestly, there’s absolutely nothing to do.] He slowly typed out a single question mark. I was bursting with frustration and had nowhere to vent, so my fingers flew across the keyboard. [The big boss came to the office today. Remember the one I told you I hate?] [Our management just wants to kiss his ass. They forced us all to stay late to show off their ‘leadership’ skills.] [Tell me, is there something wrong with his brain?] My online boyfriend filled the entire screen with question marks. [No way… Is your management team brain-damaged?] [Forcing overtime is good leadership? Doesn’t forced overtime just prove how incompetent they are?] [I have literally never seen such pathetic ass-kissing in my life.] [But then again, that boss of yours has a weird way of thinking. Who knows, maybe he actually eats that stuff up.] [You’ve been treated so unfairly, baby.] I was about to complain some more when the big boss, whose brain was allegedly wired wrong, appeared at the door of our bullpen. He was holding his phone in one hand, his thumb tapping away at the screen. His head was slightly bowed, looking like he was texting someone. His expensive suit jacket was casually slung over his other arm. His dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. He exuded the cold, aloof aura of an untouchable heir. Until he looked up— The expression in his eyes completely suppressed that careless, relaxed vibe. Our department head was already scurrying over to brown-nose him. At that exact moment, I received a new message from my online boyfriend. [Baby, don’t be mad. I’ll show you my abs, okay?] I was just about to say yes. In the dead silent office, Preston Sterling’s low, commanding voice rang out: “Why hasn’t anyone left?” “Overtime,” the department head said with an ingratiating smile. “Everyone’s work ethic is very strong. To support their efforts, I also—” Preston cut him off: “Are you actually getting work done, or just pretending?” Instantly, a cold sweat broke out on the department head’s forehead. “W-working…” Preston called the department head out into the hallway. Less than a minute later, the department head trudged back in, looking thoroughly defeated. His face was pale as he weakly announced: “Go home.” My coworkers and I exchanged bewildered looks. Then, we packed our bags at lightning speed and bolted. 2 When I got home, I jumped on a voice call with my online boyfriend to play our usual game. Maybe because I had just heard the big boss speak not long ago, I kept feeling like my online boyfriend’s voice sounded somewhat similar to his. Especially the pacing and the way he emphasized certain words. It was almost identical. “Baby, get in the car. We need to outrun the blue zone,” he called out to me. “Oh,” I said, quickly hopping into the virtual vehicle. I tested the waters, “Can you say a specific sentence for me?” “Say what?” “‘Why hasn’t anyone left?’ Say that.” He dragged out the syllables, pausing between each word like he was pouting: “Whyyy~ hasn’t~ anyooone~ left~? Are~ you~ waiiiiting~ for~ me~?” “…” I completely abandoned the idea that they sounded alike. If these two were the same person, the sun would rise in the west tomorrow. I focused on the game, but my online boyfriend wouldn’t let it go: “What’s wrong? Why did you suddenly want me to say that?” I couldn’t shake him, so I told him the truth. “It’s just… for a split second, I thought your voice sounded a lot like my boss’s.” “The boss who sexually harassed his female subordinate?” “…Yeah.” The rumor about him sexually harassing a female subordinate was something I had heard from a colleague who had recently quit the executive suite. According to the rumor, Preston wanted to sleep with her. She refused and fought him off, so Preston made her go to HR and process her own resignation. At the time, I never would have thought that Preston, who looked so respectable and professional on the outside, was actually a monster behind closed doors. I had complained about him to my online boyfriend plenty of times, which is why he also deeply despised the man. “Baby! How could my voice sound like that animal’s?” he sounded hurt, with a specific kind of stubbornness mixed in. “You’re insulting me! I’m going to be mad at you!” I quickly tried to soothe him: “Don’t be mad, don’t be mad. You don’t sound like him.” “You already said I do,” he argued irrationally. “I’m going to get vocal cord surgery tomorrow. I won’t sound like him!” He made me laugh. “What do I have to do to make you not mad?” His attitude instantly turned shy and bashful. He mumbled, “You know what.” I did know. I tested the waters, calling out softly: “Babe~” “Hmph.” “Boyfriend?” His huff grew louder: “Hmph!” I pulled out the ultimate weapon: “Husband.” He immediately replied: “Hehe. Not mad anymore.” Not only was he not mad, but even through the internet, I could feel him grinning from ear to ear. We played until eleven o’clock. I grabbed my pajamas and went into the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed. By the time I finished showering, washed my hair, and came out, my clingy online boyfriend had already sent me a barrage of messages. [Baby, I finished my shower!] [You take so long.] [But waiting for you to shower makes me feel so happy.] [Daily reminder: We agreed to meet up in person this Saturday.] [I already bought that men’s cologne you like. When we meet, I’ll make sure you can’t keep your hands off me!] [Baby, what do you want to see me wear?] [I put together a few outfits. Pick your favorite, and I’ll put it on for you!] I opened the photos he sent. Just then, a drop of water fell from the end of my wet hair and landed directly on the screen. Then, the screen automatically backed out of the chat interface. I blinked in confusion, turned off my hairdryer, and casually flipped my wet hair out of my face. At that moment, a second and third drop of water hit the screen. I pulled a tissue to wipe the water off the screen. I didn’t expect the screen to be so hypersensitive. I didn’t know when, but it had automatically dialed a video call to him. I watched helplessly as the call connected. The person on the other end of the video was sitting up straight in front of the camera, his hair fluffy and soft from a fresh shower. Exquisite brows, a straight nose, full lips—every single one of his features was perfectly proportioned. The only problem was… This face was exactly the same as the face I had seen in the office not too long ago. —He was Preston Sterling! The moment I realized this, I panicked and slammed the ‘End Call’ button. 3 Water was still dripping from the ends of my hair, but I didn’t have time to care. My mind was consumed by one thought— My online boyfriend was actually my strict, unsmiling boss, Preston Sterling?! This was absurd and ridiculous. But the truth was staring me right in the face, and I had no choice but to believe it. I tried to search through the past for clues, but the shock of “Preston is my online boyfriend” was too massive. My brain simply couldn’t process anything else. In my anxiety, my brain conjured up an even more terrifying question. —Did he see me? Logically, even if he did, it shouldn’t matter. After all, I had never interacted with him at the office; he probably didn’t even know what I looked like. But what if? What if we bumped into each other at the office one day, and my cover was completely blown? I was restless, filled with panic and unease. Preston, who had been abruptly hung up on, was clearly not having a good time either. He sent a barrage of messages. [Baby, why did you hang up?] [Did you press the wrong button?] [I thought you wanted to see what I looked like, so I answered… I didn’t mean to offend you.] [Baby, are… are you not happy with how I look?] [I just got out of the shower, so I might not look my best. Let me send you a few more pictures.] [Image] [Image] [Image] [This is how I usually look. Does this look a little better?] [Baby, do you like them?] If, a moment ago, I still harbored a sliver of hope that “Maybe I saw it wrong, maybe my online boyfriend isn’t Preston,” this moment completely crushed it. Because the candid photos he sent were undeniably Preston himself. Sitting in a conference room in a tailored suit, looking out from a mountaintop in a black windbreaker, leaping for a dunk in a #23 basketball jersey… Every single one was him. Every single one was Preston. I was losing my mind! He seemed to be losing it too, sending a voice memo that sounded almost like a whimper: “Baby, please don’t ignore me. You’re scaring me.” A shiver ran down my spine. If I previously thought his pouting and whining was cute… Now that I knew he was the cold, untouchable Preston Sterling, it made my skin crawl. How could the contrast be this extreme? At the office, he was unsmiling, strictly professional. But in private… in private, he was shamelessly needy… I slowly typed: [Did you see me?] He was very excited. [I did!] [A super gorgeous girl!] “…” I was just contemplating how good I could possibly look from the fatal angle of having wet hair plastered to my face, when he sent another message. [But I didn’t see clearly.] [I only saw baby’s little chin and little nose. So cute, I want to kiss them.] [Did baby just wash her hair?] [Make sure you blow-dry your hair, okay? Otherwise, you’ll catch a cold, and my heart will ache for you.] “…” This was a true test of my psychological fortitude. Using blow-drying my hair as an excuse, I paused this excruciating conversation. The hairdryer hummed loudly. I scrolled through my chat history with my online boyfriend, still finding it hard to believe that this person was Preston. Maybe someone was impersonating him? It wasn’t uncommon for people to use other people’s photos for online dating. Clinging to that last shred of hope, I opened a chat with a coworker. [Hey bestie, are you in a group chat with Preston?] [Can you take a screenshot of his WhatsApp profile for me?] My coworker replied: [I don’t dare. That group is full of top executives.] “…” I offered a bribe: [I’ll buy you breakfast for a week.] She still hesitated: [What if I accidentally ‘nudge’ Mr. Sterling? I’d be completely screwed.] I upped the ante: [I’ll cover lunch too.] Only then did she muster the courage to send me the screenshot. The CEO’s profile picture, nickname, WhatsApp ID, and even his location matched my online boyfriend’s exactly. My online boyfriend was Preston. Preston was my online boyfriend. The moment I fully accepted this, despair washed over me. At the same time, I was deeply confused. How dare he use his main account for online dating? Preston, emboldened by my silence, sent another message. It was a few pictures, a virtual fashion show. [Baby, I changed into my clothes for Saturday. Which outfit do you think looks best?] I suddenly remembered, we were supposed to meet in person this Saturday. Today was already Thursday. Which meant I only had Friday to make things clear with him. Break up. I had to break up immediately! 4 Having decided to break up, I began to carefully choose my words. I couldn’t just tell him the real reason, but breaking up out of the blue would definitely make him suspicious. After thinking it over, I decided to use the video call as an excuse. I typed coldly: [I don’t want to meet anymore.] [What’s wrong?] Even through the screen, I could feel his cautious anxiety. I replied: [You’re not my type.] Preston panicked: [Then what type does baby like? Tell me, and I’ll work hard to become that, okay?] [No.] [User is typing…] stayed at the top of the screen for a long time. A pang of guilt flashed through my heart, but remembering the Preston who sexually harassed female subordinates, I hardened my resolve. [Let’s just break up.] [No!] [I won’t break up!] [I don’t agree!] He sent messages one after another. Seeing that I wasn’t replying, he directly initiated a video call. He wouldn’t have done this before. He was a man who understood boundaries. Even if he wanted to make a voice call, he would always ask if it was convenient first. He was desperate. But so was I. I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to break up with him, and even more terrified my secret would be exposed. In my panic, I simply deleted his WhatsApp contact. The world was finally quiet. That was probably the one good thing about online dating. As long as you deleted the other person’s contact info, it was as if they had never existed in your life, leaving no trace behind. I set the silent phone aside. Staring at the black screen, I felt like crying. How did it end up like this? How could my online boyfriend be the hypocritical Preston Sterling? He even used to curse himself out with me. Did he not realize he was insulting himself? For a moment, I wanted to read through our chat history again. But when I picked up my phone, I remembered I had already deleted him. I lay in bed clutching the empty phone, closing my eyes, trying to sleep away the melancholy of a breakup. But I couldn’t sleep at all. My mind was full of him. I met him on a first-person shooter game. It was a classic “hero saving the damsel” scenario. He showed up right when I was getting cursed out by my teammates. He took out the hidden enemies with a couple of shots, revived my injured character, and then verbally destroyed the teammate who wouldn’t stop spewing garbage. Although he was cursing too. But my stunned brain was left with only one thought: He looks so cool when he curses! After the game ended, I immediately DM’d him: [Can we play together again sometime?] He coldly rejected: [No.] I thought fate ended there, but who would have thought I’d get matched with him a second time. I followed him around like a little tail. He probably got annoyed, and finally relented, agreeing to play with me in the future. From meeting in the game to falling in love in reality, all those sweet memories weren’t fake. I stared at the ceiling and let out a long sigh. Why did he have to be Preston? 5 I didn’t sleep well all night, and I was still exhausted when I got to work the next day. My coworker at the next desk, Kelly, was practically buzzing. She rolled her chair over to me: “Wake up! The CEO is at the office again today!” My eyes widened: “Doesn’t he only come in on Tuesdays and Thursdays?” “Who knows,” Kelly shrugged. “It’s his family’s company, he can come whenever he wants.” “But according to Maya from the executive suite,” Kelly whispered conspiratorially, “Mr. Sterling’s mood is incredibly foul today. The whole company is on high alert. Best not to get on his bad side.” I nodded cautiously. As she rolled her chair away, I couldn’t help but wonder, did Preston come to the office because of me? Although it sounded a bit arrogant, I was still worried. Would he recognize me? Probably not, right? I racked my brain trying to remember our past conversations, struggling to determine if I had ever let slip any identifying details. It was then I felt a wave of regret. I deleted him too early. I should have just blocked him. At least if I blocked him, I could still see our chat history. I could have analyzed the chat logs to see if I had dropped any hints. That way I’d have some evidence to base my worries on. I spent the entire morning on edge, but nothing happened. I silently comforted myself not to be too paranoid, and went to the company cafeteria for lunch with my colleagues. Unexpectedly, Preston was there too. He sat in a prime spot on the second floor, resting his chin on one hand, overlooking the entire dining area. Like he was looking for someone, or more specifically, looking for me. I instinctively hid behind Kelly, concealing the chin and nose he had seen last night, terrified of being recognized. Kelly looked bewildered: “What’s wrong?” I made an excuse: “Chris is over there, he’s annoying.” Chris was a male colleague who had hit on me. Or rather, it wasn’t hitting on me, it was relentless stalking. Kelly knew I found him annoying too, and like a mother hen protecting her chick, she stood in front of me: “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” I kept my head down the entire time, only letting Preston see the top of my head. I thought I’d get away with it, but halfway through lunch, every employee received an email from the executive suite. A survey on “Ineffective Overtime.” My colleagues whispered about how the department heads’ performative overtime yesterday must have angered the CEO, and quickly clicked the link to fill out the survey. I followed suit, dutifully entering my name and department. The survey redirected to a new page. My eyes instantly locked onto a required question that had absolutely nothing to do with the survey’s content. Username for First-Person Shooter Game. The colleagues around me were confused, muttering about why they had to fill this out. I, however, broke out in a cold sweat. I thought, Preston knows! It turned out he really was that sharp. From just a few sentences, he had deduced that I was in his company, and wanted to use this opportunity to draw me out. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. I made up a fake game username, randomly selected a few answers, and submitted the survey. The cafeteria was noisy with chatter. I silently told myself not to panic. Preston didn’t know who I was yet, at least I could buy some time. I ate my lunch clinging to that hope. After the lunch break, Maya from the executive suite messaged me. [Aria, come upstairs. Mr. Sterling wants to see you.] “…” In that moment. The heart that had been hanging in suspense, finally died. 6 Even though I knew there was a high probability that my cover was blown, I still wanted to make a final, desperate struggle. Before leaving, I put on a face mask. Maya met me by the elevator. Seeing me wearing a mask, she paused: “Do you have a cold?” I nodded: “I don’t want to pass it to Mr. Sterling.” “That makes sense.” She led me all the way to the CEO’s office door. I tried several times to glean what this was about from her expression, but she only gave me a sympathetic look. My shoulders slumped in defeat. She comforted me: “Maybe it’s good news.” I thought bitterly, what good news could possibly make Preston seek me out? This was skipping way too many levels of management. There was only one possibility. Online dating. I gathered my shattered emotions, thinking the worst that could happen was death, and pushed open the door with a sense of fatalistic relief. Inside, Preston was brewing tea. His suit jacket was carelessly tossed over the armrest of the sofa. He had his sleeves rolled up and his collar open, slowly and methodically handling a white jade teacup. Suddenly, he looked up at me, his gaze lingering: “Why the mask?” I faked a cough: “I have a slight cold.” “Perfect,” he said, raising the teacup toward me. “Tangerine peel soothes the throat. Try some.” “…” For a moment, I really couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or sarcastic. I asked cautiously: “Did you need to see me about something, Mr. Sterling?” He casually set down his teacup: “Aria, I hear you’re quite popular in your department?” I answered conservatively: “I guess so.” “Then can you help me clear up a rumor?” Preston stared at me intently. Being stared at like that, I had the inexplicable illusion that he could see right through me. I instinctively touched the mask on my face. Still there, thank goodness. I asked: “What rumor?” “Sexually harassing a female subordinate.” He said reasonably, “People in your department seem to have a misunderstanding about me. I wasn’t the reason for Lily’s resignation.” In an instant, I thought of a possibility I had never considered before. If Preston harassing a female subordinate was false, could it be that the female subordinate tried to seduce him, failed, and then falsely accused him? Preston’s answer confirmed my suspicion. He tossed his phone in front of me: “If you don’t believe me, you can ask her yourself. Honestly, I feel quite wronged about this.” On the phone was Lily, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time. She was apologizing and clarifying, saying she had a moment of madness and tried to seduce the CEO, and that she shouldn’t have thrown dirty water on him… I didn’t want to listen anymore and hung up the phone. Preston was drinking tea again. He said: “She only told you this, but I’m not sure how many people you passed it on to. I hope you can clear my name.” I thought, I only told one person. That was my online boyfriend, which was the person sitting in front of me. Preston asked: “Can you handle this?” “Yes.” I answered sheepishly. The anxiety I had before entering the office was gradually smoothed over by this bizarre conversation. I thought, Preston probably didn’t know who I was yet. He just guessed his online boyfriend was in our department, but he still needed to investigate exactly who it was. He sought me out just to have me clear up the rumor. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, thank goodness. “Let’s add each other on WhatsApp then,” he suddenly said. My eyes widened: “Huh?” He smiled, his eyes curving: “Don’t I have the right to be updated on your progress?” “Y-yes.” In my panic, I hurriedly logged into my alt WhatsApp account and scanned his QR code. Seeing the familiar profile picture reappear in the chat window, I felt an indescribable emotion. Preston also stared at my alt account’s profile picture for a few seconds. Finally, he smiled and said: “Looks good. You can go back to work.” That day passed relatively peacefully. At night, I lay in bed. Staring at Preston’s profile picture in the chat window, I zoned out. If the video call accident hadn’t happened, what would we be chatting about right now? About meeting up, right? After all, we were supposed to meet tomorrow. He would repeatedly tell me the time and place for tomorrow’s date. He would nervously recount what he was going to wear tomorrow, what we were going to eat tomorrow, what we were going to do together tomorrow. He would use actions to tell me how excited he was. More cheesily, he would say he was going to kiss me to death when we met tomorrow. I immersed myself in this beautiful fantasy, but was suddenly defeated by cold reality. He was Preston. Even if he was no longer a hypocritical boss, he was still my boss. Rather than finding out the truth at the moment of meeting and panicking, it was better that this video accident led to an early breakup. I repeated “early breakup is better” to myself and decisively tossed my phone aside to sleep. I slept until 10:30 the next morning. This was the time I had agreed to meet him. I had no intention of going, and idly scrolled through my phone. Suddenly, Preston updated his WhatsApp status. The picture was of the cafe where we agreed to meet. His caption: [Waiting for you.]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “416062”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel