Category: English

I rarely went back to my hometown during vacation, but after dinner, my dad ordered me to wash the dishes. I froze. “Don’t we have a housekeeper?” My mom frowned. “Laura works so hard taking care of us every day. Since you’re back, you should let her rest. You should do everything.” But I couldn’t understand. “I’m paying her to be our housekeeper—isn’t that what she’s here for? Why should I pay money and still do the work myself?” This comment made the housekeeper cry and angered my parents. My mom frowned. “What good are you? I barely see you once a year. Laura’s more thoughtful than you—at least she’s here every single day.” My dad pointed at my nose. “Don’t bother coming back anymore. From now on, Laura is our real daughter! You can go do whatever you want!” I laughed bitterly. I was busy with work, but I sent home plenty of money every month and even hired an expensive housekeeper. Yet in the end, they treated the housekeeper like their daughter. If that’s how it is, I won’t be paying the housekeeper’s salary anymore!

The company gave us time off, so I went home early. I wanted to surprise my parents, but when I got to the house, my key wouldn’t open the door. I tried several times, but the key still wouldn’t turn. That’s when I realized—they’d changed the locks. With no other choice, I pulled out my phone and called my mom. It rang several times before she picked up. I could hear the bustling sounds of shopping in the background, along with my mom’s voice: “Hello, Charlotte? Why are you calling all of a sudden?” “Mom, I’m home, standing outside. Why was the lock changed? I can’t get in.” My mom paused for a few seconds before answering slowly, “Oh, you’re back? Your dad, Laura, and I are out shopping. Just wait by the door for a bit—we’ll be back soon.” Before I could say anything else, she hung up. I stood in the hallway with my suitcase, waiting for a full hour. Finally, I heard footsteps in the corridor. I looked up and saw my parents walking ahead with the housekeeper Laura squeezed between them. Her right hand was linked affectionately with my mom’s arm, and her left hand carried shopping bags for my dad. The three of them were laughing and chatting like a family of three. When they reached the door and saw me standing there, none of them looked surprised. My dad just glanced at me indifferently, and my mom only said casually, “Oh, you’re back.” Laura, on the other hand, immediately let go of my mom’s hand. A warm smile spread across her face as she hurried toward me. “Charlotte, you’re home! Why didn’t you tell us in advance? We could have picked you up.” I forced a smile and nodded slightly, my eyes falling on the door lock. “When was the lock changed? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Laura quickly explained, “It was changed a month ago. The old lock was getting stuck—it wasn’t very safe.” “I was worried about Uncle and Auntie since they’re getting older, so I had someone install a new one. I didn’t have time to tell you. Please don’t mind, Charlotte.” Before I could respond, my dad snorted coldly and pushed open the door, his tone dripping with dissatisfaction. “Someone who couldn’t even come home for Christmas—what difference does changing the lock make to you?” I knew my dad was still upset that I hadn’t come home for Christmas. He was holding a grudge. I didn’t want to start a fight the moment I got back, so I didn’t respond and just followed them inside. After entering, I instinctively went to the shoe cabinet to get my slippers, but I saw my pair of fleece slippers on Laura’s feet. Laura noticed my gaze and awkwardly pulled out a pair of disposable slippers from the bottom of the cabinet, handing them to me. “Charlotte, I’m sorry, I put on the wrong ones. Wear these for now.” I looked at the thin disposable slippers, then at my fleece slippers on Laura’s feet. A strange feeling rose in my chest, but I didn’t say anything. I silently changed into the disposable slippers. After dinner, I’d just sat down to rest and recover from the long journey when my dad pointed at the dining table. “Go wash the dishes.” I stood there, stunned, and instinctively replied, “Don’t we have a housekeeper?” My mom immediately frowned, put down her water glass, and gave me a stern look. “Laura works so hard taking care of us—cooking, cleaning, exhausting herself all day long. Now that you’re back, let her rest. What’s wrong with you washing some dishes?” “I’m exhausted from work too,” I said, looking at them in confusion. “I work overtime every day. I finally got a break and came home to rest, and you want me to do chores?” “Besides, I’m paying her good money to be here—isn’t this what she’s supposed to do? Why should I pay and still do the work myself?” Laura stood to the side, head lowered, looking like she’d been wronged. My dad slammed his hand on the table, his face darkening as he shouted at me, “Money, money, money—all you care about is money! Is there anything in your eyes besides money? I think you’d rather spend time with your money and your job than with your parents!” “You didn’t come home for Christmas, you barely visit, and now when you’re finally here, all you talk about is money. You might as well just live with your money and your job—why even bother coming back!” My mom sighed beside him, disappointment filling her eyes. “Exactly. After you started working, you rarely come home. I barely see you once a year. Laura’s the one who takes care of everything around here.” “When we’re feeling unwell, Laura’s the one who runs around getting medicine, bringing us water, taking care of us.” “And you? As our daughter, do you even care about us?”

As her words fell, Laura gently stepped forward, reached out to hold my mom’s hand, and softly consoled her. “Don’t be angry. Charlotte’s a senior manager now—she’s busy with work. It’s not that she doesn’t want to come home.” Hearing them talk like this made me so angry I wanted to laugh. I don’t care about them? I send them ten thousand dollars a month for living expenses. Worried they’d be too frugal to spend it, I hired a high-priced housekeeper to take care of their meals and daily needs. I work myself to death out there so they can live comfortably. How did I become worse than a paid housekeeper in their eyes? I clenched my fists, suppressing my anger. “Mom, Dad, that’s not fair.” “You say I don’t care about you? That I only focus on work and money?” “Before, whenever I had free time, I came home. You complained I was wasting money, said I looked foolish always coming back like a child who never grew up, told me to stop running home all the time. I listened.” “But I’ve never missed calling or video chatting, have I? I’ve never missed sending your monthly living expenses, have I? I hired Laura at a high salary specifically to take care of you. Doesn’t any of that count in your eyes?” My dad’s face immediately darkened. “But you didn’t even come home for Christmas—is that acceptable? You weren’t here for a family reunion. What good is money? Your mom and I have enough—we don’t need your money.” “Don’t be upset,” Laura quickly stepped forward, gently tugging on my dad’s arm with an obedient smile. “Charlotte has it tough working in New York. Senior managers are so busy—she can’t help it. I’m sure she still thinks about you in her heart.” But my dad only got angrier after hearing that. “Senior manager? So what? Why does a girl need to work so hard? Eventually, she’ll get married and return to family life anyway. What’s the point of climbing so high?” My mom chimed in, “Charlotte, you’re not young anymore. You really should consider getting married.” “A colleague at work has a son about your age. He’s honest and dependable, works locally, and comes from a good family. Since you’re back this time, why don’t you meet him? If it works out, you can get engaged.” I didn’t even think before refusing. “I don’t want to go on blind dates, and I don’t want to get married.” “You don’t want to get married?” My dad’s face turned iron-blue. “Are you planning to spend your whole life with your job?” “Why not?” I met his gaze. “You—” My dad was so angry his chest heaved. “Your mom and I are getting old. We need someone nearby. If you go on blind dates, get married, and stay here, we’ll have someone to rely on, someone to take care of us. Why can’t you think about us?” I frowned. “Haven’t I already hired Laura to take care of you?” My dad slammed the table and issued his ultimatum. “Then if you won’t get married, quit your job and come back to take care of us. Otherwise, stop recognizing us as your parents, and we’ll make Laura our daughter instead!” I laughed in frustration. “When I graduated, I planned to find work back home so I could easily take care of you.” I looked at them calmly. “But you thought it was embarrassing for a graduate of a prestigious university to work in a small town. You said I had no ambition and forced me to go to New York.” “I’ve struggled in New York for so many years, finally getting a foothold and building my current life.” “And now, with one sentence, you want me to give it all up and quit?”

I shook my head firmly. “That’s impossible.” My dad’s brow furrowed, his voice immediately rising. “What do you mean, impossible? We raised you all these years, and when we ask you to come back, you make excuses?” “I’m not making excuses,” I explained patiently. “My job in New York is what I fought for all these years. If I just give it up, all my suffering would be for nothing.” “So you’re just going to abandon us?” My mom joined in, her face full of disapproval. “You’re our only daughter. When we’re old, who else can we rely on but you?” “I didn’t say I’d abandon you.” I took a deep breath and offered a solution. “If you want me to take care of you, fine—move to New York and live with me. That way I can work and look after you at the same time.” My dad immediately waved his hand dismissively. “Move to New York? We’ve lived in our hometown for decades. All our relatives and friends are here. We’re not moving to some unfamiliar place where we don’t know anyone.” My mom nodded along. “Exactly. You’re still renting in New York—how could that be as comfortable as home? We’re not going.” I frowned. “If you won’t go and I can’t quit, then there’s nothing I can do.” My dad’s face darkened. “Nothing you can do? I think you’ve just grown wings and don’t care about us anymore!” “Anyway, I won’t quit.” My tone was firm, without any hint of compromise. My dad opened his mouth, about to continue scolding me, when Laura quickly stepped forward, gently mediating. “Charlotte rarely comes home. Let’s talk nicely as a family instead of fighting and hurting each other.” She turned to me with a gentle smile. “Charlotte, Uncle and Auntie are just getting older and want someone to keep them company. That’s natural. Don’t be upset.” Hearing this, my dad’s expression softened slightly. He looked at Laura with instant warmth. “Laura’s so understanding, so considerate of us. Not like you—all you care about is work and money.” I was too tired to argue with them anymore. Even one more word felt exhausting. I turned and headed to my room. The moment I pushed open the door, I froze completely. My bed had unfamiliar sheets and a comforter. The desk was covered with skincare products and hair ties. The closet was full of women’s clothing—clearly someone had been living here long-term. I whipped around to look at Laura, who had followed me. “Don’t you have your own room? Why are you living in mine without permission?” Laura’s eyes flickered, and she lowered her head, looking flustered. “Charlotte, I’m sorry, I…” Before she could finish, my mom spoke up to explain. “Laura’s air conditioner broke. We tried to fix it several times but couldn’t. It was cold, so I let her stay in your room.” “You never come home anyway—it would just sit empty.” The anger in my chest flared up again. “Even if I don’t stay here, this is still my room! How could you let her move in without asking me?” “How could we?” My dad suddenly roared, his face livid. “Your mom and I bought this house. We can let whoever we want live here. Forget letting Laura stay—we could kick you out if we wanted!” I was trembling with rage. Looking at my parents, who should have been so familiar, they suddenly felt like strangers. This was supposed to be my home, but I felt like an outsider. I stopped arguing, turned, and walked to the entryway, pulling my suitcase behind me. “Fine. If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.” My dad snorted coldly, his face full of disdain. “Go ahead and leave if you’re so capable. Don’t come back to this house!” My mom opened her mouth, but in the end, she only sighed and said nothing more. Laura stood to the side, anxiously speaking up. “Charlotte, don’t be angry. It’s all my fault. I’ll move out right now…” I didn’t want to hear her talk. I pulled my suitcase and walked out the door without looking back. I dragged the heavy case down the stairs, step by step, and finally took a cab to a nearby hotel.

The next day at noon, my cousin Muriel called. “Charlotte, we’re visiting the ancestors’ graves today. You’re back, right? Hurry over—everyone’s almost here.” “Got it, I’m on my way.” After hanging up, I quickly got ready and headed to the cemetery. When I arrived, I could see from a distance that all the relatives had gathered. My parents were there too. But as I got closer, I stopped in my tracks—Laura was there too, standing beside my mom. Muriel saw me first and waved. “Charlotte, over here.” I walked over and asked quietly, “Why is she here?” Muriel sighed. “Your parents brought her.” After the ancestral rites were finished, everyone went to a pre-booked restaurant for a meal. The whole extended family sat around a large table. During the meal, my mom said: “Since all the relatives are here today, Casseres and I have something to announce.” My dad took over, looking at everyone. “We’re planning to officially adopt Laura as our daughter.” As soon as those words came out, the table fell silent. Relatives exchanged glances. My mom continued, “Laura is truly thoughtful. She’s with us every day, serving us tea and water, cooking and cleaning. She’s more attentive than Charlotte.” After my mom spoke, relatives instinctively looked at me. I held my knife and fork but said nothing. My dad glanced at me, his tone growing heavy. “Unlike some people who can’t be seen all year long. When she finally comes home, all she talks about is money. Not thoughtful at all.” “We asked her to quit and come back to take care of us—she refused. We asked her to go on blind dates and settle down—she won’t do that either.” “Her wings have grown hard. She doesn’t care whether we live or die anymore.” Muriel quickly tried to smooth things over. “Charlotte does care about you. She really is busy with work—the pressure is intense. Don’t talk about her like that.” My mom immediately waved her hand, her expression sour. “Busy, busy, busy—all she knows is being busy! What’s the point of all that money if she can’t be here with us?” “Laura’s different. She knows when we’re cold or hot. When we’re not feeling well, she’s the one running around, buying medicine, bringing water, taking such good care of us. She’s so much more reliable.” My dad got more worked up as he spoke, his voice rising. “Since we can’t count on Charlotte, we’ll adopt someone thoughtful!” “If Laura takes care of us in our old age and when we die, we might as well leave this house to her!” The whole table was shocked. Everyone looked at each other, no one daring to speak. Some wanted to offer advice, but seeing how determined my parents were, they swallowed their words. The meal ended in a strange atmosphere. After everyone dispersed, Muriel pulled me aside, her face full of worry. “Charlotte, have your parents been brainwashed by that housekeeper? How can they say they’ll leave the house to her?” “You need to go back and talk to them properly. You can’t let them stay confused like this.” I looked at Laura in the distance, laughing and chatting with my parents, and gently shook my head. “Maybe they always wanted a caring daughter who could be with them every day and obediently listen to them.” “I can’t be that person. If they want someone else to do it, I can’t stop them.” The vacation ended quickly, and I prepared to return to New York. Before leaving, I called my dad—no answer. I called my mom—she hung up immediately. I tried several more times. All rejected. I looked at my phone and didn’t persist. I pulled my suitcase and went to the station, boarding the train back to New York. Over the next few weeks, I kept seeing my parents’ Twitter posts. Today they were eating hot pot with Laura, the three of them leaning together intimately for a photo. Tomorrow they were walking in the park together, Laura holding my mom’s arm, smiling obediently. The captions all radiated the warmth and harmony of a family of three. I scrolled through the posts without liking or commenting, pretending I hadn’t seen them. Then, a few days after another vacation ended, a call suddenly came in. It was my mom. As soon as I answered, I heard her dissatisfied voice come through directly. “Charlotte, why haven’t you sent this month’s living expenses yet? And Laura’s salary—why haven’t you paid her either?”

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On the day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, I sat outside the hospital clutching a positive pregnancy test, staring blankly for a very long time. My phone buzzed. It was Julian, my boyfriend of eight years. “Lily, about getting the marriage license… can we hold off for a bit? Give me some time to think it over?” “Sure.” “It’s not that I don’t want to marry you—” He paused, clearly stunned that I had agreed so easily and without a fight. He quickly added that he wouldn’t be home for dinner and hastily hung up. 1 Julian and I had been dating for eight years. We were supposed to be getting married soon. We started our own business right after college, and last year, it finally took off. We bought a car, put a down payment on a new house, and were getting ready to renovate. If I hadn’t gotten this disease, maybe next year I would have had a soft, sweet little baby sleeping in my arms. Since Julian wasn’t coming home for dinner, I made myself a simple bowl of vegetable noodle soup, hesitating over how to tell him the news tonight. After all, we had agreed last year that we would get our marriage license by the end of this year. My doctor was a young woman, only a few years older than me. She gently advised me not to keep the baby and to focus on aggressive treatment. She told me not to be afraid—I was young, and the cure rate should be high. Honestly, I wasn’t that afraid. Because I had Julian. He would always be by my side. The doorbell rang. I wondered why Julian was ringing the bell instead of using his keys. When I opened the door, Julian was standing there, heavily intoxicated. Supporting him was Mia, a new hire from our PR department—a fresh college grad. “Hey, Lily. We were out entertaining clients, and Mr. Vance had a bit too much to drink. His car is parked downstairs,” Mia said. She was wearing a cute, floral slip dress, her cheeks slightly flushed, as she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I just brought him up. I’ll catch an Uber back.” Julian, eyes glazed over with alcohol, stumbled onto the couch and immediately fell asleep. I took his suit jacket from her. It carried the faint, sweet scent of orange blossom perfume—Mia’s perfume. “Thanks, Mia,” I smiled. “It’s too late. Let me drive you home.” Mia politely declined at first, but I insisted. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting a young girl like you take an Uber alone at this hour.” “So, Lily, when are you and Mr. Vance tying the knot?” On the drive, Mia asked the question tentatively. I froze for a second, thinking of the phone call from Julian earlier that afternoon. I forced an awkward smile. “We’re going to wait until the company is a bit more stable for another year or two.” …Wait until my condition stabilizes. “Oh, I see…” Mia looked out the window, seemingly lost in thought. Suddenly, she lowered her head and smiled sweetly. “Got it.” After dropping Mia off, I parked the car. I suddenly remembered that I had left a bottle of Vitamin E supplements I bought last time in the passenger-side glove compartment. I opened the passenger door, but my eyes caught something wedged in the gap of the seatbelt buckle. It was a torn, small, square wrapper. Oil from the wrapper seeped onto my fingers. I froze. Suddenly, I thought of Mia’s slip dress and her flushed cheeks when I opened the door. I thought of Julian’s phone call that afternoon, and how he used his drunkenness to look away, avoiding my eyes. I sat blankly in the passenger seat. So many things had happened in a single day. For a moment, I didn’t even know where to begin. 2 Julian and I started dating during our freshman year of college. He pursued me. At the time, I was working part-time at a local pho shop near campus to earn tuition money. Julian fell in love with me at first sight. To woo me, Julian—a bona fide trust-fund kid—ate pho every single day for a solid year. On the day I finally agreed to date him, he got so sick of the food that he threw up violently right there in the shop. To this day, he still can’t stand the smell of pho broth. Knowing I was proud and wouldn’t accept handouts, he ate at the cheap dining halls with me. He would buy fruit and milk and forcefully shove them into my hands: “What if my future wife gets malnourished?” Knowing I hated the smell of smoke, he quit smoking cold turkey. Once, when the cravings hit him hard, he braved the bewildered stares of his rich frat-boy friends, pulled out a lollipop, and stuck it in his mouth, his face red as he tried to save his ego: “Psh, what do you guys know? This is what family men do.” Honestly, I never really knew why Julian liked me. He was 6’2″, handsome, and wealthy. But Julian didn’t care. He said if he liked me, he fucking liked me. He was incredibly stubborn. Once he set his mind on a path, he would walk it to the very end. I saw that clearly the time he took me home to meet his parents on Christmas Eve. I stood awkwardly in front of his parents, holding a modest fruit basket I had bought. His parents hosted me with frigid politeness. While the maid was clearing the dining table, his mother coughed lightly and gave Julian a look, gesturing for him to step aside to talk with her. The chandelier in the villa was so blindingly bright it was almost harsher than the August sun, making me unable to lift my head. Its light cast a harsh glare on my worn-out puffer jacket and faded jeans. And those were actually my best clothes. I sat on the European-style sofa with my legs pressed tightly together, trying my best to shrink my presence. The maids’ gazes drifted over me, accompanied by faint, muffled snickers that scraped against my pride like knives. I heard his mother’s hysterical voice carrying from the other room: “She definitely knows you have money, right?!” “She has no parents! What can she possibly offer you in the future?!” My heart felt like it was being brutally stomped on. It hurt so much I couldn’t breathe. My head dropped lower and lower. I pinched my arm hard, telling myself not to cry. The next second, I heard the sound of Julian slamming a door. His face was dark with anger as he stormed toward me. He grabbed my hand where I sat with my head bowed on the sofa: “We’re leaving!” “Julian Vance! If you walk out that door, don’t ever call me your mother again!” her voice echoed from behind. “We won’t give you a single cent!” Hearing his mother’s threat, Julian’s steps faltered. Before his mother could look smug, Julian turned back and snatched the fruit basket I had brought: “You don’t deserve this!” It was Christmas Eve. The streets were practically empty of pedestrians and cars, and even the subway had stopped running. We had no choice but to walk to a hotel. As we crossed an overpass, the wind howled through my hair. The quiet city was lit up with thousands of lights from homes celebrating the holiday, looking like a sea of stars in the distance. But not a single one of those lights belonged to me. I didn’t turn around. I just kept my head down and said very, very softly: “Julian, let’s break up.” He didn’t say a word. “Julian, we—” He unzipped his winter coat and wrapped his arms around me from behind, engulfing me entirely in his embrace. He held me in silence, hugging me so tightly, as if afraid I would disappear if he let go even a little. The silence dragged on. He buried his face in my neck, holding me for a very long time. Suddenly, he spoke. His voice was soft, but incredibly firm: “Lily, I’ll give you a home.” 3 When I got back inside, Julian was fast asleep on the couch. I gently draped a blanket over him. His phone lit up. Two unread messages. They were from Mia. “I got her home safe and sound! Don’t worry, Boss!” Followed by a cute sticker of a little girl winking and saying goodnight. I knew I shouldn’t be snooping, but I couldn’t resist scrolling up to read their chat history. “What did Boss Vance have for lunch today? A bento box she made for you?” “Yeah.” “Ugh, so unfair. You should eat takeout with us single dogs sometimes, Boss.” “Maybe tomorrow.” The date was the day before yesterday. I remembered the next day Julian specifically told me I didn’t need to wake up early to make him lunch. When I asked why, he hugged me from behind, kissed my neck softly, and said he didn’t want me to work so hard, giving me a “day off.” “Boss, when are you guys getting married?” Attached was a sticker of a little girl wiping tears. Unlike his previous instant replies, this time he took ten minutes to respond: “I don’t know.” He said he didn’t know. I put the phone down. I didn’t scroll any further. There was no need. There were no explicit messages. Just Julian replying to Mia as instantly as he did to me, with Mia referring to me simply as “she” in every sentence. But in the vibe of their conversation, it felt like I was the third wheel intruding on them. I put his phone back, stood up, and placed my medical records and the pregnancy test in the bottom drawer of the study desk, right next to our joint savings passbook. The wind had picked up outside. It had just rained a little, and the wind blew a damp, warm breeze into the room. I closed the door and sat blankly at the desk. Honestly, when I got the diagnosis, saying I wasn’t afraid would be a lie. I sat at the hospital entrance back then, watching the busy traffic, trying desperately to think for a very long time. I wondered how I could say it casually. How I could break the news without making him too sad. I planned to tell him with a smile. Julian, I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first? If he wants the good news, I’ll tell him he’s going to be a dad. If he wants the bad news, I’ll say I was just kidding about the dad part. Then he would definitely flick my forehead, and then I’d tell him about the cancer. He would definitely hug me tightly from behind like he did back then, telling me not to be afraid. I’d comfort him back, tease him for being so nervous, and tell him I wasn’t scared at all. Or maybe I’d cry and tell him the truth. Tell him I was terrified. I was afraid of the pain, afraid it couldn’t be cured. I was afraid chemotherapy would make me bald, that I wouldn’t be able to wear a ponytail or look pretty in dresses anymore. Tell him how much I couldn’t bear to lose this baby. We had left a wall in the nursery of our new house for Lego displays. He had said that if we had a daughter, he would build Legos with her and buy her lots of pretty dresses. Then he would definitely say the cheesiest romantic things. He would say that in his heart, I would always be the most beautiful woman in the world. That we would have lots of kids in the future, and if this one was too impatient to wait, we wouldn’t want it anyway. But before I could figure out what to say, his call came through. On the phone, he said he wanted to hold off on getting the marriage license. I agreed almost without hesitation. He loved me so much. How could I tie him down for the rest of his life when he had given up everything for me? At that moment, I even hoped he didn’t love me anymore. That way, he wouldn’t be so sad. Maybe right then, a passing deity looked down at the mortal world and heard my wish. He really didn’t love me as much as he used to. I really wanted to live, too. But I didn’t know if staying alive would be more painful than chemotherapy. 4 I sat in the study, letting the wind blow over me all night, still unable to figure out what to do. Julian woke up around seven o’clock. He rubbed his temples and pushed open the study door. Wearing dress pants and a light blue dress shirt, his broad shoulders and narrow waist were accentuated. I was never one to obsess over looks, but I was still often caught off guard by how handsome he was. Seeing me sitting there, he paused and asked what was wrong. I shook my head: “Nothing. I’m planning to ask for some time off from the company.” Julian smiled and reached out to ruffle my hair: “You can just quit if you want. It’s not like I can’t support you.” I gently dodged his hand. Julian’s hand hovered awkwardly in the air before he retracted it, looking a bit unnatural: “Why the time off?” “I’m just tired lately.” It was a valid excuse for a working adult. I had been grinding for nine years; it was about time I felt tired. I had been working part-time since freshman year of college. When we first graduated, I was the one supporting Julian. Back then, Julian had cut ties with his family to start a business with his best friend. We were renting a tiny apartment and living paycheck to paycheck. To save fifty dollars on rent, I took a subway commute that was an hour longer. For an 8 AM shift, I had to wake up at 5:45 AM. When I worked overtime until 9 PM, by the time I got home and washed up, it was already past 11 PM. I would fall asleep the second my head hit the pillow. Back then, we had neither time nor money. At our most extreme, Julian and I went an entire week without speaking a single word to each other. But no matter how late, he always came home. Once, he forgot his keys. I woke up in the middle of the night, realized he wasn’t beside me, checked my phone messages, and opened the door to find him asleep outside. He was afraid knocking would wake me, so he just decided to catch some sleep out in the hall. Our poorest time was the winter of our first year out of college. My company delayed my salary for two months, and by the end of the year, we were genuinely broke. That day, Julian came to pick me up at the subway station. We walked across the overpass from the station. A new hot pot place had just opened underneath. Spicy beef tallow broth was their signature dish. There was a long line, and the steaming, fragrant mist hit you right in the soul. Julian said that when we had money, our very first meal would be hot pot, right at that place. We’d order a split pot—mild beef tallow and tomato broth—and ten plates of sliced lamb. “Why ten plates?” “Five to look at, five to eat,” he said. “Gross. I refuse to eat hot pot with someone who orders a split pot.” “How can you be so prejudiced against half-and-half broth? I don’t even judge people who put pineapple on pizza…” Before Julian could finish, he choked on his own saliva and started coughing violently. I panicked and patted his back. While I was patting him, our eyes met. We suddenly started laughing. We laughed so hard we doubled over, drawing stares from people passing by. Thinking back now, I don’t even know what was so funny. We were probably just finding joy in our misery. Later, we finally had some money, but that hot pot place had closed down. We never got to eat there. Once you start reminiscing, it’s hard to stop. Thinking about the past, my eyes suddenly welled up with tears. “Why are you crying?” Julian suddenly panicked, hurriedly wiping my tears. “Don’t cry.” “It’s nothing. I just don’t want to go to work. I’m too tired.” I leaned against him. “Be good. You rest up. If management doesn’t approve your leave, we’ll just quit, okay?” Julian crouched down and looked at me very seriously. The gentleness in his eyes was almost overflowing. Eight years had passed. The impulsive, reckless rich kid had grown into a mature man. I knew I shouldn’t, but looking at his face, I couldn’t bear to let go. I hesitated, but still reached out and tugged his shirt slightly: “Julian… could you stay with me today…?” I thought to myself, If he stays with me, I’ll lay everything out and explain it to him clearly. Whether we break up or stay together. We’ve been together for eight years; there has to be a resolution. “I have a very important meeting today, but I’ll come back early. You catch up on sleep, binge a show, read a book, and I’ll be back before you know it, okay?” I let go of his shirt. Julian tucked me in, kissed my forehead just like he always did: “Be good and get some sleep. I’ll do all the dishes this month, deal? Next month is your birthday, I’ll buy you whatever you want, okay?” I nodded, and Julian finally relaxed. I watched him gently close the bedroom door, followed by the sound of the front door closing. I was alone again. 5 “I agree.” I looked down, signed my name, and pushed the organ donation registry form toward the female doctor. The doctor’s last name was Anderson. She had a pale complexion and looked only a few years older than me. She asked me with deep concern: “Do your family members agree? If your family disagrees when the time comes, they can revoke it on your behalf.” “I don’t have any family.” I smiled. “Donate whatever is usable.” If I donated, at least someone would visit my grave periodically. I looked at her, keenly catching the fleeting flash of pity on her face. “Don’t worry about it. It’s really fine.” “…Actually, your situation isn’t entirely hopeless. You need to stay optimistic. Mood greatly affects the illness.” She seemed even more anxious than I was. “Chemotherapy and targeted therapy will affect the fetus, so I don’t recommend…” “I know.” I had Googled it. If it was early-stage, I could try to save it—maybe both mother and child would survive. But for late-stage cancer, doctors strongly advise against keeping the baby. If I had family with me, the doctor might have played along with them and told me my illness was actually very mild. I read on a forum yesterday that sometimes, if you lie to patients and keep their spirits up, miracles really do happen. Unfortunately, I had no one to lie to me. I couldn’t just leave a child alone in this world, isolated like me. “…At seven weeks pregnant, roughly how big is the baby?” I lowered my head and smiled. “Actually, I haven’t felt a thing.” “It has a heartbeat.” “So its heart is really beating?” “Yes.” Dr. Anderson must have really loved children; she couldn’t help but smile softly when she said it. “That’s so nice.” I did the math. If everything had gone smoothly, the baby would have been born next May. If everything had gone smoothly. Seeing my expression, she hesitated, then wrote down a note and handed it to me: “This is my phone number, my WhatsApp is the same. If anything happens, contact me directly.” “Thank you so much, Dr. Anderson.” The bus ride back was very crowded. I sat in my seat and sent Dr. Anderson a message: “Hi Dr. Anderson, I looked it up online. They said pregnancy nausea is similar to late-stage symptoms. I can’t eat anything. I can’t really tell the difference.” While waiting for Dr. Anderson’s reply, someone suddenly shoved me: “Young lady, these seats are for the elderly, disabled, and pregnant. Get up and let this gentleman sit.” An elderly man with gray hair but a sturdy build stood in front of me, flanked by a self-righteous middle-aged woman. “Young folks are strong and healthy, standing for a bit won’t kill you.” The rest of the bus chimed in, echoing her sentiment. I pulled out my medical record book and smiled: “I’m pregnant and have stage-four stomach cancer. I’m dying soon. Can I sit for a little while?” The entire bus went dead silent. In that moment, I felt like the collective conscience of everyone on board had just been put on trial. I didn’t know why, but saying those words out loud suddenly made me feel incredibly liberated. Right. I was going to die soon anyway. What was there left to be afraid of? 6 “I want hot pot.” From the bubbling, spicy beef tallow broth, Julian fished out a slice of beef tripe after fifteen seconds and placed it in my bowl. I took a small bite. It was very crisp and tender. But I couldn’t swallow it. Since two days ago, I noticed that swallowing had become incredibly difficult. My stomach had started hurting half a year ago, and occasionally I’d feel nauseous. I thought it was just because I often skipped breakfast and had irregular eating habits. When I was in college, I ate whenever I could, never at consistent times. My body had been giving me warnings for a long time, but I never paid attention. Pretending to wipe my mouth, I secretly spit the tripe into a napkin. “I still prefer the non-spicy broth.” I said that just to let Julian tease me for contradicting my past self. Suddenly, his phone screen lit up. He looked down and quickly replied to the message, a faint smile on his face that he didn’t even notice. I propped my chin on my hands and watched him. Sometimes I wondered, why did I have to be the one to get sick? Why do people who hurt others get to live long, healthy lives? The birthday song started playing. The Haidilao staff were already walking over, pushing a cake and carrying LED signs. He lit the candles for me, put down his phone, and watched me make a wish. Julian, you have to live a long, long life. “Do you like the gift? I really did my research.” Julian started fishing for compliments. It was a horn comb, smooth and elegant. “I love it.” I smiled and nodded. “Julian, after dinner, I want to go see our new house.” “Okay. It’s your birthday today, whatever you want.” Julian leaned over to buckle my seatbelt. When he brushed against my arm, he frowned: “Why are you so skinny? Are you dieting? I told you I don’t mind if you gain weight.” “I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.” How should I put it? Sometimes he was actually quite oblivious. Over these past two months together, I hadn’t told him my period was here so we couldn’t be intimate. I hadn’t curled up in bed groaning about cramps either. And he had completely forgotten to ask. I thought of the WhatsApp message Mia sent him, one of them was asking for time off for period cramps. “Boss Vance, tummy hurts.” “What’s wrong?” “Girl problems, I can’t tell you!” The sticker was a little cat rolling around on its stomach. Julian approved two days off for her, and she happily replied with a “Love you!” Julian didn’t reply again. The car window was cracked open slightly. The evening breeze, carrying the scent of camphor trees, blew past my ear. Outside was the colorful neon nightscape of the city. Honestly, I didn’t believe Julian would actually cheat, because the evidence was too flimsy. The manipulative, try-hard tactics of a fresh college grad were transparent to me. The torn wrapper might have been placed there deliberately. Delaying the marriage license might not have even been because of Mia. He didn’t necessarily fall in love with Mia, but when it came to his love for me, he was definitely wavering. He could have chosen a male colleague to drive him home. He could have politely shut down her boundary-crossing texts. He could have chosen not to reply instantly. He could have loved me just a little bit more firmly. Just like that Christmas Eve. If he had hesitated for even a single second when I was being humiliated, I would never have left with him. Love is a firm choice. Love doesn’t waver. Once it wavers, taking that step across the line is only a matter of time. It was the perfect time for an evening stroll. Walking into our new building complex, we saw many neighbors and noisy children running around. One little boy was running too fast and crashed into me. I instinctively shielded my stomach. “I’m so sorry! Leo Smith! Get over here and apologize right now!” The boy’s mother dragged the little boy over to apologize to me. “The lady is so thin, what if you knocked her over?!” The mother had a booming voice that instantly cowed the boy. “If you bump into someone elderly, frail, sick, or disabled, the police will lock you up…” The boy wilted, keeping his head down and staying silent. “It’s totally fine.” I quickly crouched down to comfort him. “I’m not hurt.” “Do you guys live upstairs?” the mother asked. “Yeah. We haven’t finalized the renovations yet, so we’re not in a rush.” “So you guys are getting married soon?” I froze and looked up at Julian. Before Julian could answer, the elevator doors opened, interrupting the conversation. The apartment was still bare concrete. We originally chose it because of the great natural light. Across the street was a kindergarten, and two blocks away were an elementary and middle school. I opened the windows and turned on the lights. The gentle evening breeze filled the room, suddenly bringing a bit of life to the empty space. I held Julian’s hand, smiling as I pointed to the school across the street: “Do you remember? When we bought this place, you told me that if we get called in for parent-teacher conferences, it would be super convenient. You said we’d play rock-paper-scissors, and the loser would go get yelled at.” Hearing me say that, Julian suddenly laughed. “I remember. You even asked why it had to be a scolding.” “And then what did I say?” “You said that if the kid was like you, they’d definitely be winning awards, and we’d be speaking as ‘Outstanding Parents.’” “The bedroom is big enough to put up a partition for two desks. When you were a sophomore, you had to stop gaming because of space. I always felt bad for you.” “The kitchen needs a good exhaust fan. You’ll definitely want to have hot pot at home.” “You said we could build a Lego wall here. To build Legos with our daughter in the future.” I stood beside him, smiling as I watched him open the Pandora’s box of memories. All those moments of loving me—he actually remembered them. But when did the hand that once held mine so tightly let go? In a daze, the suited, mature man in front of me slowly overlapped with the reckless, arrogant boy who had grabbed my hand and run into the night on that Christmas Eve. They looked alike, yet so different. I didn’t want to cry, but tears suddenly started falling. Julian froze, frantically trying to wipe away my tears: “Why are you always crying lately? Are you overthinking things again?” I rested my head on his shoulder. After a long pause, I said in a muffled voice: “Julian, I really want to go back to the past…” “The past? You mean when we were broke? What was so good about that? Starving and swallowing our pride every day. It’s nothing like now. We can eat hot pot whenever we want, you can take ten days or half a month off work…” He was right. We were so poor back then. We starved and suffered every day. What was so good about it? But why did I miss it so much?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “414036”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was reborn. The timing was impeccable—it was exactly our fifth wedding anniversary, right at the moment Carter Hayes claimed he had amnesia. “I only remember being deeply in love with your sister, Stella…” he said, clutching his head in mock agony. Our son pulled at my hand. “Mom, don’t blame Dad. He just wants to take care of Aunt Stella. She’s such a good person, and even I can’t bear to see her all alone.” The System popped up, exactly as it had in my previous life: “Host, amnesia is fine! You succeeded last time, and you can do it again. Just re-conquer the devoted second male lead and your son!” I calmly lit a Virginia Slim, placed the framed photo of our “happy family of three” face down on the table, and pulled up a picture of the story’s obsessive, villainous antagonist on my phone. “System,” I exhaled a thin stream of smoke. “I remember I still have a one-time ‘Target Swap’ token available. I can change who I conquer, right?” 01 “Huh?” The System froze. “I mean, yes, you never used your Target Swap token, but why would you want to? Carter just has amnesia!” “And you guys have a son! If you change targets now, what happens to little Mason? No, no, I don’t approve of this.” I scoffed. Amnesia. In my last life, I bought Carter’s bullshit. I tried every possible method to help him regain his memory, desperately trying to make him fall in love with me again. Instead, I had to watch as his bond with Stella grew deeper and deeper. “I’m sorry,” he had told me. “Maybe we really did share beautiful memories, but I don’t remember any of them. I only have Stella in my heart.” No matter how hard I tried, all he had for me was the pity you’d give a stranger. He even asked for a divorce. And our son, Mason? He was a miniature, carbon-copy of Carter. When I was drowning in the pain of trying to salvage our marriage and find his father’s memories, Mason stood firmly by Carter’s side. “Mom, you always tell me to help people. Why are you so mad that Dad is helping Aunt Stella? You’re acting really selfish and annoying.” Even my own parents came to persuade me. “Why torture yourself? Carter loves your sister now. He can’t remember you, so why cling to this marriage?” “Besides, Mason loves Stella too. Even if you and Carter divorce, we’ll all still be family.” Later, their persuasion turned into accusations: “Your sister went through a terrible divorce. She’s so pitiful, why don’t you have any empathy for her? She and Carter genuinely love each other now. Because you won’t divorce him, she has to bear the stigma of being the ‘other woman.’ She’s your sister. How can you be so selfish?” Eventually, the prolonged depression took its toll, and I fell severely ill. When I went to the hospital, I saw Carter holding Stella up. She was leaning into his chest, sobbing. “Carter, shouldn’t we just tell Serena that your amnesia is fake?” He went silent for a moment. “We were married for five years. I’m afraid the truth would hurt her too much.” “But she keeps dragging her feet on the divorce! My belly is getting bigger. How can I show my face? How can I have this baby?” Stella cried pitifully. That was when I realized—Carter had never lost his memory. The so-called amnesia was just a convenient excuse to cheat on me without looking like the bad guy. And I, like an absolute idiot, had believed he still loved me, frantically trying to restore “memories” he had never lost. That night, I went back to an empty, echoing house. By midnight, I was burning up with a dangerously high fever. I called Carter, Mason, and my parents. Not a single person answered. They were all out celebrating Stella’s birthday. In our family group chat, festive photos popped up one after another. My hand trembled as I typed a few words into the chat: “I think I’m dying.” The group chat instantly went dead quiet. A moment later, Stella called. “Serena, are you purposely trying to ruin my birthday? Do you really hate me that much?” Her voice wavered with fake tears. “If you didn’t want to come, just say so. Don’t act out for attention,” my father’s voice boomed through the speaker. “Saying you’re dying—who are you trying to guilt-trip?” my mother chimed in from the background. “Auntie! Auntie, ignore my mom! It’s midnight, time to blow out the candles!” Mason’s cheerful voice rang out. The other end of the line erupted in laughter and cheers. As the phone slipped from my weak grip, I heard a mechanical chime. “Host has failed the Extra Chapter Conquest. Ultimate Ending: Conquest Failed. However, because you achieved the ‘Marriage’ milestone halfway through and have valid points, you may trigger a one-time rebirth protocol with the original system. Rebooting in 5, 4, 3, 2…” So, this was just an “Extra” chapter. It all made sense. When I married Carter and told the System I wanted to stay in this world, it had stayed suspiciously quiet. I had never actually completed the conquest. I had never escaped the plot’s constraints. In this spin-off chapter, the female lead (Stella) divorced her husband and finally ended up with the devoted second male lead (Carter), whom she had loved all along. And I? I was just the vicious supporting character in their extra chapter. A stumbling block on their road to romance. The catalyst to prove their true love. I was someone who died alone, without a single person caring enough to check on me. 02 Just then, the front door opened. Carter and Mason walked in. The moment Mason saw me, he rushed forward to block his father. “Mom, don’t start nagging Dad about the past today! He’s exhausted.” Oh, I bet he was. Stella’s divorce had been finalized today, and Carter had spent the entire day helping her move. Thinking about it, I suddenly burst out laughing. Carter frowned deeply. “Serena, what are you laughing at?” His gaze dropped to the cigarette between my fingers. In my past life, I had never touched a cigarette. “You know, Carter,” I said, crossing my legs and casually blowing a smoke ring. “When I used to read romance novels, I always loved the devoted ‘second male lead’.” “But looking back, what is a ‘devoted second male lead’? He’s just a simp.” I pointed at him with my cigarette, then pointed at Mason. “What I didn’t expect was that a simp would raise another simp. Apparently, the trait is genetic.” “What’s a simp?” Mason blinked, confused. “Mom, what are you talking about? Why are you calling me a dog?” “Serena, if you’re acting like this because I helped Stella today…” Carter said impatiently. “Why are you so jealous of your own sister? Besides, I spend every day looking for my memories with you. I just wanted one day to rest—” “You don’t need to anymore,” I interrupted. “What?” I stubbed the cigarette out in a glass of water and slid a stack of papers across the coffee table. “I’ve thought it through. If the memories are gone, they’re gone. It’s no big deal.” “I’ve already drafted the divorce papers, and I’ve already lined up my next guy. Let’s do each other a favor and just sign. We can be done today.” “What are you saying?” Carter froze. “Host! Host, calm down! You can’t handle Damian Vance! He’s a complete psycho! You can’t just swap to him!” the System screamed in my ear. “Yeah, well, I need a psycho,” I replied to the System internally. Otherwise, how was a “vicious supporting character” like me supposed to tear down the Hayes and Davies families? “Are you saying…” Carter stared at me in absolute disbelief. “You have… someone else?” He stared blankly, blurting out, “That’s impossible.” 03 Of course, to Carter, it sounded impossible. Carter was Stella’s ultimate simp, and the old me? The old me was Carter’s ultimate simp. I had revolved my entire life around him. I accompanied him when he was down, took care of him when he was sick, and even stayed awake for days to change his ice packs when he had a fever. “Serena, can you stop throwing a tantrum?” Carter’s face darkened as he tossed the divorce papers back onto the table. “I told you, I have amnesia. Faking a divorce and making up some imaginary ‘next guy’ to make me jealous isn’t going to work. The current me feels absolutely nothing for—” “I want 30% of the Hayes Global equity, since I helped build it after we married. You can keep the kid,” I said expressionlessly, walking toward the door. “Just sign it, and we’ll head straight to the courthouse.” He froze again. “What does divorce mean? Does it mean Aunt Stella is going to be my new mom?” Mason asked blankly. I ignored the two of them, opened the door, and walked out. “Host, what are you doing?! Carter just has amnesia, he still has feelings for you underneath! You’re hurting him so much…” The System kept chattering. “Hey System,” I said. “Do you think I should touch up my makeup before going to Vance Enterprises?” “What? Where are you going? No, you absolutely cannot go see that psycho villain! You’ll regret it— BEEP.” Using 20 points, I muted the System. Too noisy. I went out, bought a sharp new outfit, and headed to a high-end salon for full hair and makeup. “You look stunning today, Mrs. Hayes. Is it a special anniversary with your husband?” the stylist asked sweetly, recognizing me. “Yep. Getting ready to go cheat,” I said, adjusting my pearl earrings with satisfaction. “…Haha, you’re so funny, Mrs. Hayes.” I decided not to take my own car. Instead, I caught a cab straight to the Vance Enterprises skyscraper. “Excuse me, who are you here to see? Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked. “Could you do me a favor and let Mr. Vance know,” I smiled, “that Serena from Hayes Global is here to bring him a massive gift.” 04 Inside the CEO’s office at Vance Enterprises. “Your office is quite spacious, Mr. Vance. Just a bit empty,” I said, sitting on the leather sofa, looking around. “Mrs. Hayes, my time is quite valuable,” Damian Vance said from behind his massive desk. His legs were crossed, his expression unreadable and dark. “I know. You’re busy competing with Hayes Global, aren’t you?” I smiled. “What if I said I’m willing to defect to your side? Would Mr. Vance be willing to take me in?” He paused, then suddenly chuckled. “I’ve heard rumors of Mrs. Hayes’s deep devotion to her husband. I never expected that you’d offer yourself up as bait to infiltrate my company for his sake.” He stood up, walked over, and leaned down, placing both hands on the sofa on either side of me. His eyes were dangerous. “Aren’t you afraid of walking alone into a wolf’s den? You might be swallowed whole, leaving no bones behind.” Our eyes met. For a long moment, it was silent. Then, I burst out laughing. “I’m not afraid. Since Mr. Vance knows I’m someone who would do anything for her husband, you might as well marry me. You know a hopelessly devoted woman like me will sacrifice everything for love. Plus, the design team I control is pretty top-tier.” He didn’t speak. But I knew he was tempted. Not by me, but by the resources I controlled. Truthfully, Damian and I were old acquaintances. He ran Vance Enterprises, Hayes Global’s biggest rival, and he was a constant thorn in Carter’s side. In the original timeline, I was a relatively famous jewelry designer. Hayes Global had once been pushed to the brink of bankruptcy by Damian. The initial capital that brought Hayes back from the dead came entirely from my jewelry designs. Over the years, Hayes and Vance had clashed countless times, trading wins and losses. And Damian Vance was the man Carter hated most in the world. After a long moment, Damian straightened up. “Mrs. Hayes is undeniably beautiful, but I have no interest in married women.” “What if I divorce Carter Hayes?” I stood up, taking a step closer, tilting my head to look at him. He faltered for a second. “Oh, well, that changes things,” he smirked. “But Mrs. Hayes should know, I don’t tolerate traitors.” He reached out, tilting my chin up with his fingers. “Marriage is a valid contract, I’ll admit. But if you want to marry me, you’re going to need to show some sincerity.” “Thirty percent of Hayes Global equity, and my entire design team. I’ll bring them with me as my dowry.” I smiled. “Can Mr. Vance handle that?” 05 Damian accepted my terms. Over the following days, I moved out of the house entirely, prepping everything for the impending divorce. Neither Carter nor Mason came looking for me; they were likely too busy playing house with Stella. One day, I had to swing by the house to grab a design draft I’d forgotten. When I opened the door, the place was chaotic. Mason was crying in Stella’s arms, my parents were looking furious, and Carter had a dark storm cloud over his face. “You actually have the nerve to show your face? Who knows where you’ve been running wild!” my mother yelled the moment she saw me. “You don’t care about your child, you don’t care about your husband! How did I raise such a useless daughter?” “If Stella hadn’t been helping take care of Mason lately, we wouldn’t have even known he was being bullied so badly at kindergarten! What kind of mother are you? Why are you taking the side of an outsider?” I frowned. Stella immediately stepped forward, her voice soft and gentle: “Serena, I don’t want to lecture you, but when Mason was bullied at school, how could you force him to apologize first? Do you know how much trauma that could cause a child?” “Why should he apologize when he did something wrong?” I replied coldly. “He called another kid a ‘poor loser’ and called his parents ‘trash.’ The other kid got mad and fought back. Mason didn’t even lose the fight—he broke the other boy’s nose.” “But he did lose!” Stella’s voice remained saccharine. “When I picked him up these past few days, he was so depressed. But it’s fine. I already paid the other family off, and they made their kid apologize to Mason immediately.” “What?” I stared at her in disbelief. “Don’t you think that’s incredibly unfair to the other child? He was the victim, and just because his parents took a payoff, he has to apologize?” “He should apologize to me! You’re biased! You’re a bad guy! You’re not my mom! I want a new mom!” Mason charged at me, fists flailing, until Stella pulled him back. “See? You’re breaking the child’s heart.” Stella crouched down, delicately wiping away the two forced tears on Mason’s cheeks. I rolled my eyes. “You really think this is a good way to raise him?” “Enough. We all agree with how Stella handled it,” my father stepped in, his voice grim. “You didn’t grow up by our side, and we failed to discipline you. That’s why you grew up to be such an irresponsible wife and mother.” “If you can’t raise a child, let Stella do it. I think she’s a much better mother figure than you.” I actually let out a dry laugh. They couldn’t wait to replace me, could they? I turned to Carter. “What about you? Do you agree with them?” “It’s in the past,” he said, standing up. “Stop harping on it.” “Hurry up and cook dinner! Dad works so hard every day, how can you just not be home? We’re starving!” Mason shrieked at the top of his lungs. Whatever. I let out a long breath. “Carter, did you sign the divorce papers?” “Papers? What papers?” Stella clearly didn’t know about this yet. But her eyes darted around, and she immediately ran to the side table, picking up the divorce agreement. “Serena, you want a divorce? And you want 30% of the Hayes shares?” She stared at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Don’t you think… that’s taking it too far? How can you be so greedy?” “Too far? Greedy?” I looked at her. “When I married Carter, Hayes Global was on the verge of bankruptcy. My jewelry designs brought it back from the dead. I built the current design team from the ground up. Why shouldn’t I get 30%?” “But you stepped back from management after having Mason! Hayes Global is where it is today because of Carter’s blood, sweat, and tears! How can you shamelessly claim it’s your doing?” “Never home, demanding a divorce, and trying to extort money from your husband’s family—our Davies family is entirely humiliated to have a daughter like you!” my father roared. “You didn’t see what I sacrificed, so you get to say I don’t deserve it? How did I not help the company? As a designer, I accompanied Carter to every single business dinner. When he drank, I drank. I drank just as much as him to secure those deals!” I couldn’t help but yell back. “Enough!” Carter suddenly bellowed. Everyone fell silent. “Serena, 30% is too much,” he said coldly. “I absolutely will not agree to it.” I suddenly started laughing. “You guys… are truly disgusting.” I turned, grabbed my design portfolio, slammed the door, and walked out. I never wanted to see anyone in that house ever again. It was raining outside, and I didn’t have an umbrella. “See? I told you not to cause a scene. How are you going to fix this now? It’s going to be so hard to get Carter to forgive you!” the System nagged incessantly. “Give me a minute of quiet,” I muttered, finding an empty spot on the sidewalk to crouch down. The rain washed down my hair. I hugged my knees, feeling a bone-deep chill. Even though I knew this was just a “conquest” world, I had treated everyone in it with absolute sincerity. I had truly considered them my family. Even though I knew I had fallen in love with a piece of trash, in this moment, I still felt a profound sense of worthlessness for myself. For all those years I had thrown away. “Looks like Mrs. Hayes’s road to divorce isn’t going very smoothly.” An umbrella suddenly appeared over my head. I looked up. It was Damian. He stood there holding the umbrella, looking down at me. “Sorry, I couldn’t get the 30% equity.” I gave a self-deprecating smile. “Just pretend you never heard my offer, Mr. Vance.” He was quiet for a moment, then suddenly crouched down. “Actually, I think I’m starting to find you, Serena Davies, quite interesting. “Want to try a different game?” “Huh?” “I don’t want the 30% equity anymore.” He pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped the rainwater from my hair. “Marry me, and we’ll bankrupt Hayes Global together.” 06 “Host, don’t be impulsive!!! Wait, wait, wait—” SLAM! I pushed open the double doors to the CEO’s office at Hayes Global. “Divorce.” I slapped a revised divorce agreement onto Carter’s desk. He frowned. “I don’t want the equity. I’m leaving with nothing. Now can you sign it?” “What crazy pill did you take today?” He rubbed his temples. “I told you, I’ve already found my next guy. I’m in a rush to get married, so we need to divorce immediately.” He suddenly laughed, slowly pulling a stack of papers from his drawer. “Serena, your dashcam logs show that you haven’t been going home, but you’ve only been staying at your old pre-marriage apartment. “Your routine is incredibly simple. So simple… it looks like you have nowhere else to go.” He tapped the papers, his gaze confident. “You don’t have a ‘next guy.’ You’re causing all this drama just to use a divorce threat to get my attention.” I suddenly understood just how frustrating it must have been for whoever coined the phrase “playing the piano to a cow.” I sat down, lit a Virginia Slim, and made a quick phone call to Stella. After her divorce, Carter had immediately secured her a job at Hayes Global. “Why did you call her?” “To chat.” Stella arrived promptly. “Serena, what are you doing? Carter works so hard. Last time you already made everyone in the family so upset. This is the office, you can’t just throw a tantrum here—” “Shut your mouth and listen,” I cut her off. “Carter.” I turned, tapped my cigarette ash, and smiled at him. “Everyone’s here now. Tell me, are you just reluctant to let me go?” “What?” He froze. “You keep saying you forgot me and only remember Stella. But when I ask for a divorce, you refuse. Is it because you just can’t bear to lose me? “You don’t actually like Stella as much as you claim, do you? “Or maybe, your amnesia is completely fake? You remember everything about us, which is why you won’t sign the papers. Am I right?” I looked at Stella. “What should we do? I didn’t know he loved me this much.” “Shut up!” Carter roared, cutting me off. “Carter…” Stella immediately looked at him with big, watery eyes. His face was exceptionally grim. After a long moment, he clenched his fists and spoke: “Serena, I was only pitying you. I thought about the years we were married and knew you had nowhere else to go. That’s the only reason I didn’t want to sign. “I haven’t remembered you, and I have zero lingering feelings for you. To me, you are a complete stranger. “You want a divorce this badly? Fine. I’ll give you what you want.” He grabbed a pen and, as if throwing a tantrum, signed his name on the agreement with a flourish. “But don’t come crying to me when you regret it.” 07 Afraid Carter might change his mind, I dragged him to the courthouse to file the papers immediately after he signed. “There’s a mandatory waiting period before the decree is finalized. Don’t be late for the final sign-off.” He shot me an icy glare and left. “Why is he so mad? Wasn’t he the one desperate for a divorce in the previous life?” I watched him walk away, utterly exasperated. “What previous life?” the System asked, confused. Oh, right. This System didn’t have memories of the previous iteration. A few days later, Damian called and told me to go to a specific address. I went. It was a luxury bridal boutique. “Hello, Ms. Davies. Mr. Vance specifically instructed us to help you try on whichever style you prefer,” the consultant said with a bright smile. When I married Carter, I wore a massive ballgown with a long train because that’s what Carter liked, and I wanted to make him happy. But actually, I personally preferred a mermaid silhouette. This time, I was going to make myself happy. I spent the whole afternoon trying on dresses, snapped a few photos, and texted them to Damian. “You like the mermaid style?” he replied almost instantly. “It suits you perfectly.” Just then, my phone rang. Assuming it was Damian, I answered it without looking. “Mason is running a high fever. You need to get back here right now.” It was Carter’s voice. “…” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “We are divorced. You have full custody of Mason. You are his father. Can’t you take care of him?” “Serena, a mother and child are connected by heart! He’s in so much pain, how can you be so cold-blooded?” It was Stella. Oh, she was there. Perfect. “I can’t come,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “Sister, didn’t you say you loved Mason the most? Let me tell you what that means. When he’s sick, you need to hold him constantly. You need to sing lullabies all night long like he’s a baby, and take his temperature every thirty minutes. “Oh, and he fights taking his medicine. He’ll throw up everywhere on purpose. But that’s fine! You just mix the medicine again and give him another bath.” “I don’t have any experience with this! Why are you telling me this?! You’re his mother, you should come back and take care of him! Mason, Mason, don’t throw up on Auntie’s dress—” “Stella,” I lowered my voice, my tone icy. “What did you think raising a child was? Did you think it was just looking glamorous, sneaking him candy, spoiling him, and listening to him call you his favorite? “No. Raising a child is night after night of no sleep. It’s endless, repetitive caregiving. It’s being so busy you don’t have time to use the bathroom, eat, or sleep. “Do you really want to be Mason’s mother? Then do everything I just listed.” “Serena, the kid is suffering! He keeps crying for his mom. Do you really have to be so petty over trivial things right now?!” Carter’s angry voice boomed through the phone. “I told you, I’m busy.” “What could you possibly be busy with?!” “Ms. Davies, for the dress, do we need to take the waist in a bit more for you?” the bridal consultant walked over and asked with a smile. The other end of the line went dead silent. “What… are you doing?” Carter’s voice sounded thick with utter disbelief. I spelled it out for him, word by word. “I am trying on wedding dresses.”

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I haven’t been very happy lately. The problem is, my favorite celebrity “little brother” totally crashed and burned. Getting caught in a scandal is one thing, but lying to me when all the evidence was out there, just to get me to spend more money to bail him out? That was the last straw. In a fit of rage, I dumped all my considerable resources, connections, and hype onto his biggest rival—some indie nobody in the same agency. I didn’t expect the kid to have so much fight in him. He exploded overnight. Superstar status. Just as I was about to retire, happy with my revenge, and looking to sponsor some new young talent, he grabbed me. “Haven’t I performed well enough for you yet, Chloe? How about you stop being a fan and start being mine?” 1 I used to be obsessed with a rising star named Tyler. He was the definition of the “golden retriever boyfriend” aesthetic. Sweet, innocent face. To be honest, his actual talent—singing, acting—was mediocre at best. But he had a face that checked every single one of my boxes, and he knew exactly how to work me with that charming, vulnerable act. Apart from making a ridiculous amount of money, I didn’t have many hobbies. Sponsoring young idols was my stress relief. When he dropped a new single, I dropped serious cash to game the Billboard charts for him. When he couldn’t land a brand deal, I personally spent fifty grand on a designer wardrobe just so he could look the part at high-profile events. Late at night, he’d call me, sounding so sweet and pathetic, complaining about how hard it was being low on the Hollywood totem pole and how badly he was treated. My heart would break for the kid. I’d use my connections, call in favors with producer friends, and get him gigs. What I didn’t expect was for my “investment” to grow up and get a secret girlfriend. Fine. Whatever. They all do. But this girl was a complete clout-chaser. She posted a photo on Instagram, not just announcing the relationship, but claiming that I—his biggest sponsor—was trying to sexually harass her boyfriend. Her proof? Highly curated, out-of-context screenshots of our texts. Within an hour, it was the number one trending topic on Twitter. Fortunately, netizens aren’t entirely stupid. The top comments were savage, just not toward me: “Hold on, are these two serious? Looking at these texts, any idiot can see it’s just Tyler playing the ‘woe is me’ card to manipulate rich women into giving him free stuff.” “I’ve seen videos of him live. His talent is a total train wreck. Without this sponsor lady, he’d be waiting tables at Denny’s. If I had a sugar mommy this rich, I’d be on my knees thanking God every day.” Within ten minutes, the hashtag #JusticeForChloe was trending. Damn it. As a self-made businesswoman, the thing I hate most is being pitied. And this idiot just caused the entire internet to pity me into the spotlight. The public was still eating it up, placing bets: “I bet $100 he’s currently typing up a manic, desperate apology text to her right now.” “$200 says agreed.” They were right. My phone was currently blowing up with over a dozen missed calls, all from Tyler. Then came the texts: “Chloe, babe, I swear this is a huge misunderstanding. That girl is just a stalker. Those photos are photoshopped. They mean nothing.” “Chloe, please let me explain. You’re truly the only one I care about.” “Chloe, send me your location. I’m canceling everything to come see you right now.” Canceling everything. I was the one who curated his schedule; I knew exactly how few gigs he actually had. Eventually, I got bored of the notifications and just blocked his number. I had sponsored Tyler for two years. I knew his real character better than anyone. He hadn’t learned a single ounce of professional craft, but he had mastered the arts of lying and flirting with impressionable girls. Initially, I would have lectured him. Later, I stopped caring. He wasn’t my son, so who gives a damn? To me, he was just a disposable stress-relief toy that happened to look good. While I was thinking, my phone buzzed again. It was my producer friend. “Hey, the marketing team at Peroni finally got back to us. The celebrity endorsement deal is on the table. How do you want to handle it? Do we still give the contract to your little boy toy?” Give it to him? For what? To help him promote the ‘naive, innocent victim’ brand in front of the public after he made me look like a fool? I was annoyed. I was about to tell my friend to just apologize to the brand and cancel the pitch. Suddenly, a digital ad popped up on my laptop for a high-end streetwear brand. The male model looked vaguely familiar. I realized he was with the same talent agency as Tyler—one of those indies with zero resources and terrible management. I only knew about him because Tyler had bitched about him to me several times, calling him ‘brooding’ and ‘uncooperative.’ Out of curiosity, I had looked him up a few times. His look wasn’t my usual type—he wasn’t the sweet ‘golden retriever’ kind—so I hadn’t paid him much attention. I thought about it. Tyler hated this guy. “Don’t give it to Tyler,” I told my friend over the phone. “Peroni wants a model? I have someone else.” “Who?” I switched to tabs on my computer, quickly Googling the kid’s name again. “Ethan. Ethan Reed.” “Who the hell is that?” “Tyler’s rival at the agency.” My friend was silent for a few seconds before responding. “Classic. That is so you.” 2 Unsurprisingly, once Ethan got the Peroni endorsement deal, Tyler, having heard the news, couldn’t sit still. I wasn’t taking his calls. So, he did what any desperate Z-list celebrity does: he posted a notes-app, tear-jerking essay on Twitter. It was the same exact script he tried on me. He claimed the girl was a crazed stalker, purely delusional. He insisted there was no actual relationship, and the photos were fake. The girl, furious at being painted as a lunatic, went nuclear. She immediately leaked the explicit, intimate photos. Then she leaked audio recordings of Tyler attempting to negotiate a cash settlement to make her disappear. Listening to it, I actually felt a moment of pity for Tyler. Truly, he was a massive, drooling idiot. While Tyler was busy destroying his own life with his private dramas, he stopped bothering me. But, getting over a celebrity obsession is oddly similar to a breakup. Even though I never loved Tyler romantically, I had invested real time, emotion, and hard work into him. Without an idol to promote, I was stuck at home at night, completely bored. Life suddenly felt flat. Then, out of the blue, I got a call from an unknown number. “Hello? This is Ethan Reed.” His voice was deep, resonant—completely different from Tyler’s always-on, high-energy persona. It took me a second to figure out who he was. “Can I help you, Ethan?” “My agent told me about the endorsement deal. Peroni. I just wanted to call and say thank you.” “Oh, it’s fine. It was nothing.” Actually, that deal had taken a significant amount of my time and leverage to secure, but that didn’t matter now. Ethan was clearly not the charming, talkative type. After I spoke, silence stretched over the line. Only the faint static of the connection remained. I hate awkward silences and was about to hang up when he spoke again. “I have a showcase gig this Saturday at a small festival. I’m singing a song. Would you… be willing to come watch?” That was a lot to ask of someone who wasn’t actually a fan. I was about to reject him when he said, “If you don’t have time, it’s okay. Honestly, I’m used to playing to an empty room.” That was a low blow. He totally manipulated my nurturing instinct. “I have time,” I said, suppressing a sigh. “I’ll be there.” He let out a huge breath on the other end, sounding totally relieved. “Thank you.” After hanging up, I immediately regretted it. It was going to be so hot this Saturday… whatever. It’s not like I haven’t done this before. I’d act as his personal photographer, get some high-quality headshots, edit them, and post them online. Think of it as his payment for helping me get revenge on Tyler. 3 Saturday came, and I dragged myself, along with my professional camera gear, to Ethan’s event. When I arrived, I realized just how well Ethan had “marketed” this to me. “Showcase gig…” It was basically a performance at a ribbon-cutting ceremony for a new big-box grocery store in the suburbs. But I had to hand it to him; the scene was packed. Crowds of senior citizens and families were standing around, eager for free samples. I found Ethan waiting backstage. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans. To be fair, he was incredibly handsome in person. Brooding, sharp jawline. I pointed my lens at him, intending to snap a couple of test shots, but something felt off. I walked over. “You’re not wearing makeup?” Seeing me, Ethan looked confused for a second before realizing who I was. “You… you must be Chloe. It’s just two songs. I didn’t want to make a fuss.” “This isn’t about making a fuss. I’m going to be taking high-resolution professional photos. You need to at least look alive.” Ethan looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. No one has ever come to take professional photos of me before.” My heart broke for the kid again. I figured a guy like him probably didn’t carry a makeup kit around. “Where’s your agent? Call him over. Tell him to get you a mirror and some basics.” Ethan’s expression somehow managed to get even more awkward. “I came alone.” “Our agency resources are pretty low. The gigs don’t pay much. My agent… he actually started a side business as a drop-shipper to make ends meet. He’s away at a warehouse seminar today.” My god. What kind of garbage management was this? Honestly, Ethan was even… more pathetic than I imagined. Years ago, I had spent a king’s ransom on Tyler. I had curated countless high-end opportunities for him. If I had given even a tenth of that to Ethan, it probably would have sustained him for a year. It was a shame. Tyler was such a waste of space—no matter how hard I pushed him, he never gained any real traction. And what he just did to us, his core fanbase, was unforgivable. Thinking about Tyler just made me feel even more pity for Ethan. I rolled up my sleeves. “Whatever. Sit down. I’ll do it.” Ethan didn’t say a word. He just obediently tilted his head back, waiting for me to work on his face. That was when I noticed his skin was incredible. Naturally smooth. His bone structure was perfect, too. All he needed was some foundation to even things out and it was flawless. When it came time for lip balm, I realized I only had my own. Since I had already used it, I just swiped some onto my fingertip. “Do you mind if I just use my hands?” Ethan shook his head. I squatted down so we were eye-level. My finger lightly brushed against his lips, making sure it was even. Satisfied, I stood up. “Done.” But the kid didn’t move. I looked down and realized he was staring straight up at me, his eyes wide, and the tips of his ears were a deep, undeniable red. “You’re good to go,” I repeated. “Check the mirror?” Ethan snapped out of his daze, flustered. He looked away instantly, lowered his head, and murmured, “Thank you.” Oh my god. Was this kid actually blushing? Are there actually male celebrities left in this industry who still have a pulse and blush?! I had to suppress a laugh. “Get going. Break a leg.” I had originally planned to take a few photos and leave. I wasn’t actually a fan of Ethan, after all. I didn’t expect that when Ethan started singing, his talent would be undeniable. Even the grandpas and grandmas who were jostling for free eggs stopped what they were doing and began clapping along to the rhythm. It was no wonder that even though Ethan was buried at the bottom of the B-list, Tyler was still obsessed with constantly talking trash about him. This kid was a real threat. I just didn’t understand why the agency wouldn’t promote a real asset like Ethan, preferring to pour resources into useless trust-fund kids who couldn’t sing to save their lives. I wasn’t insulting my past choices, of course. Just an objective observation. They say the best way to get over an old love is to find a new one. Ethan was a stock that was about to blow up. I was thinking that maybe I could become his manager, or at least his top sponsor. It wasn’t a bad idea. At least the probability of him having a hidden girlfriend scandal was low right now. But I usually prefer the sweet, cute types, and he… wasn’t. So, should I invest or not? While I was debating, the song ended. Ethan instinctively looked toward me, lightly biting his lip. He gave a shy, almost sheepish smile. His eyes were shining, silently begging for approval, just like a golden retriever puppy. Holy hell! That’s my exact weakness. Fine. I’m investing. He’s mine! 4 I had over ten years of experience as a high-end fansite admin and celebrity promoter. The photos I took were as good as any professional magazine spread. When I got home, I selected the best shots, edited them to perfection, and posted them as a set of nine on my main account. Purely based on aesthetics, these photos of Ethan were flawless. He was drop-dead gorgeous. Since Ethan was so obscure he didn’t even have a dedicated fansite community, I applied to create one for him, then posted all nine photos into the newly created forum. The caption: “A lone ship in a sea of stars. You are the only island where I wish to dock. @EthanReed” The moment it was posted, the comments started flooding in. “Wait, isn’t this Tyler’s former top fansite admin? She’s supporting someone new already?” “Holy shit, this guy is stunning. If these are unedited, I need a name, right now.” “Say what you want, but this lady is truly the GOAT of publicists. Her content quality is insane. Honestly, Tyler is going to regret this. He had a winning hand and threw it all away.” I have to admit, being publicly pitied by the entire internet had its perks. Five minutes after I posted, the likes broke 10,000. I hadn’t even paid for sponsored trends yet. I was getting ready to edit a highlight video of his singing to keep the momentum going when my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I picked up, but all I heard on the other end was quiet, hitching sobbing. Someone was crying. I asked “Who is this?” a few times, but no one responded. I was just about to hang up when I heard, “Chloe… do you really not want me anymore?” It was Tyler. I truly did not understand where this boy found the audicity to call me. “Chloe,” he choked out, “I know you and Ethan always hated each other. Did you post those photos just to hurt me? You can’t actually be over me.” Me: ? On the other end of the line, he intentionally dropped his voice, trying to use that deep, breathy “bad boy” tone to beg for mercy. “I really messed up this time. Just give me one more chance. Let me come over to your place tonight, okay?” Late at night. Coming over. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was implying. How does a kid who just debuted, who used to look like a sweet idiot on camera, turn this slimy and pathetic in just two years? “Honey, I have absolutely zero interest in you,” I said, unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice. “I sponsored you for a long time, so I’ll give you one piece of advice: don’t think you’re more important than you actually are.” After hanging up, I took a few seconds to calm down. Then I finished editing the video of Ethan singing and posted that online, too. Around nightfall, Ethan contacted me. “Chloe, my agent just got an email. A director saw the photos you posted and wants me to audition for a small role.” I didn’t expect results to come this fast. I was excited. “That’s amazing news.” Ethan was stammering, and I got worried. “What’s wrong?” “It’s just… I haven’t gotten an audition invite in so long. I’m nervous. I don’t have anyone here to help me prepare. If you have time… would you be willing to run lines with me?” He truly treated me like his manager now. I didn’t have anything else to do, so I agreed. We agreed to meet in the lobby of his agency’s building. I knew the place well. Back when I supported Tyler, a group of us fans would wait here every single day. Mostly, we were there to get “paparazzi style” candid shots of him walking to his car. When I arrived, Ethan was already waiting by the entrance. Seeing me, he jogged over. “I’ll take you up.” “Up to your agency?” I was surprised. I had been here hundreds of times, and not once had I been allowed inside. There is a natural barrier between fans and their idols, even for a fansite admin like me who had spent millions on the guy. Seeing my shock, Ethan assumed I didn’t want to go. “Our… our breakdown room has really good snacks.” His words made me struggle with whether or not to tell him: “Look, honey, as a celebrity, you need to maintain a little mystery. Don’t act like a fan is your best friend.” But then I thought of Tyler and decided to let it go. If Ethan actually turned into a diva one day, that would be a different kind of problem. What I didn’t expect was that the moment we entered the main floor, we ran face-to-face with Tyler. Seeing me, Tyler’s eyes lit up. He ran over in three long strides. “Chloe! Are you here to see me?” Before I could say a word, Ethan’s face next to me darkened. “No,” Ethan said, his voice cold. “As of right now, she’s with me.” 5 Having said his piece, Ethan dragged me toward his agency’s elevator like a victorious rooster. He left Tyler standing there, looking utterly pathetic. Honestly, I wanted to tell them both: I’m just a fan, not either of your girlfriends. It really wasn’t necessary to make this into a cheesy teen drama. But looking at Ethan’s proud face, I kept my mouth shut. The kid had zero actual fans, so my sudden appearance and support probably caused a legitimate emotional reaction. It was normal. However, speaking of resources, Ethan’s situation was truly abysmal. It was like the agency had completely abandoned him. But strangely, despite being such an indie nobody, he somehow had his own dedicated breakdown office in the building. Most B-listers didn’t even get that luxury. “I don’t get many gigs, so I spend most of my time at the office. This room was originally for me and my agent, but he’s busier than me and is hardly ever here, so I just took it over.” That explanation actually made sense. I had been associated with Ethan for a little while now, and I had never actually seen his agent. The man was always either picking up shipments or delivering packages to customers. His side business was clearly more important than his main career. The man was a marketing genius. “Has the agency not considered giving you a new agent?” “No other agents are willing to take me on.” And I was sold again. Being an idol to someone this obscure was a nightmare. The agent was useless, the agency didn’t care. The only one suffering was the fan (me). So I couldn’t help myself. I started using my own connections to get him gigs. I started vetting his schedule. Fortunately, Ethan was incredibly obedient. Whatever job I told him to take, he took. Whatever gig I told him to reject, he rejected. He just did whatever I said. His compliance gave me a weird sense of mission. It felt like if he didn’t become a superstar, it was purely my fault. So, apart from my real job, my whole day started revolving around Ethan. Finally, even my business partner, Liam, couldn’t stand it. He called me into his office. “Are you taking this celebrity thing a little too far lately? Before, you just spent money, fine. But now I’m hearing you’re practically working for the guy. How much is his agency paying you to be his manager?” “Nothing. I just feel bad for the kid.” Liam clearly didn’t believe me. “Chloe, how many years have we been business partners? I know exactly who you are. Keep it professional. Don’t get emotionally involved.” “Relax. I know what I’m doing.” Celebrities were like dolls in a display case. I could spend an absurd amount of money to dress them up and make them look pretty, but I would never mix them up with my actual private life. That was exactly why I could detach from Tyler so easily, despite all the money I spent on him. But as fate would have it, things didn’t go according to plan. In the morning, I had been giving Liam my solemn oath that I knew what I was doing, that I was keeping my boundaries. That very evening, my ‘boundaries’ showed up at my front door. I was stunned when I opened the door and saw Ethan standing there. “What did you say? You need a place to stay?” “My career isn’t making money, and the agency took back my company apartment. I thought through everyone I knew, and… I don’t have anyone else. Is it okay if I stay with you for a few days? As soon as I get paid, I’ll move out.” Lately, I had gotten Ethan some gigs, but those contracts were net-30 or net-60 for payment, so the money was slow to arrive. But having him stay at my place, this was… “You’re a celebrity, sort of. If paparazzi catch you here, it won’t look good.” After I said that, Ethan tilted his head. “Paparazzi? Following me?” That was a fair point. Highly unlikely. Seeing my hesitation, Ethan didn’t push it. “It’s okay. I understand. It was unfair of me to ask.” He shouldered his backpack and started walking back to the elevator. “Where are you going?” “I’ll just sleep on the agency breakdown room floor. I’ll find a corner.” Hearing that, my heart broke. Again. Everyone goes through hard times. When I first graduated, I was completely broke. I relied heavily on Liam to support me. I bit my lip. “Whatever, whatever. Just stay here for a few days. I’ll try to expedite your payments.” Ethan immediately walked back into the apartment. “Thank you. Truly. This is a huge help.” 6 To be honest, at this point, I didn’t even know if I was still a fansite admin. The real question was: whose favorite celebrity crashes on their fansite admin’s couch? This afternoon at the office, Liam suddenly stopped me. “We haven’t hung out in ages. Dinner tonight?” “Maybe another time. I have something to do tonight.” Liam frowned. “Going to another gig?” “Family stuff.” Tonight, Ethan was insisting on cooking dinner as a thank-you for letting him stay. Liam’s expression relaxed. “Alright. Another time.” By the time I got home, Ethan had most of the meal finished. As his fansite admin and part-time manager, I automatically pulled out my camera to start taking photos of him. Ethan set the last dish on the table and looked at my camera, confused. “Do you take that thing with you everywhere you go?” “Force of habit.” I set the camera down. “You should post a status update later. Right now, the trend for male idols is ‘relatable boyfriend’ aesthetic. Candid, lifestyle photos get way more engagement.” Ethan usually followed any advice I gave him without question. This was the first time he just looked at me and said, “Are you sure?” “Is there a problem?” Ethan smiled, a tiny, almost invisible dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth. “I’d be more than happy to.” About thirty minutes later, I understood why Ethan had asked that question. The first call was from my producer friend. “Girl, your idol just posted some candid ‘at home’ photos. Why does his kitchen look exactly like yours? Holy shit, are you sleeping with him?” Then she paused, thinking about it. “He’s so indie, he probably doesn’t have the leverage to force you. Which one of you is sleeping with who?” I barely finished explaining and hung up when Liam’s call came through. He sounded serious. More serious than I had ever heard him. “I’m ten minutes away from your apartment.” “What? What are you coming to my apartment for?” Liam let out a cold laugh. “To see exactly how far you’ve lost your mind.” Liam and I had been friends for over ten years. Technically he was my business partner, but he was family. The marketing firm we currently ran was something we had co-founded after we both left our last job. It was growing, and we were making a name for ourselves in the industry. For the last few years, since things were stable, I had picked up this celebrity hobby. Liam usually didn’t interfere. The only time he had was when Tyler’s scandal hit and he called to ask if I needed help handling the fallout. It was a small issue, so I had rejected his help. He had never sounded this serious before. Ethan saw my grim expression. “Did I cause trouble? I can delete the post.” I saw the comments flooding in. I shook my head. “Don’t. Leave it up.” Liam arrived quickly. As someone who had navigated high-stakes business deals, he had adjusted his emotions by the time I opened the door. He walked in, saw Ethan, and even greeted him politely. Liam sat on the sofa and looked at Ethan. “Chloe has mentioned you. She said she admires your talent and she’s gotten you quite a few contracts.” “Chloe has been a huge help. I wouldn’t say she admires my talent; I think it’s more that I’m determined to work for her.” Liam let out a cold scoff. “I don’t care what your relationship is. A grown man staying at a single woman’s apartment is never appropriate. Especially since you’re a celebrity—your status could cause serious trouble for Chloe. You’re new to the industry, so it’s normal to be struggling. Peroni has a new project launching, and I’m a major investor. I can get you attached to the project immediately, and I can have them advance you the payment. The condition is that you move out of this apartment. Tonight.” The director for this project was one of the biggest names in the industry. Countless actors were desperate for a chance to work with him. Even B-listers didn’t always get an opportunity like this. Liam’s offer was basically handing Ethan a ladder to the A-list. I was about to speak up, but Ethan didn’t even look up. He rejected it instantly. “No thank you.” I stared at him, stunned. Ethan flashed a perfect, innocent smile. “An obscure nobody like me wouldn’t want to embarrass Mr. Vance by ruining his project.” In the end, I had to be the one to escort Liam out. He leaned against his car in the parking lot and lit a cigarette. “You like this hobby of yours. I never stepped in. I figured you were just spending money to buy happiness. But this Ethan guy… his intentions toward you aren’t professional.” “So what?” I looked at Liam and wanted to laugh. “Whose intentions toward me are professional? Yours?” Liam frowned. “Chloe, I—” “Enough. Go home. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

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Just a few days ago, I was making out with Julian’s rival, but now he wanted me to seduce our class president, Noah Miller. Why? Because Noah was the guy the girl Julian actually liked had a crush on. In my past life, I caused Noah to miss his SATs and ruined his bright future. In this life, I dyed my hair back to black, put on a modest maxi dress, and sat quietly next to him. “Class President, tutor me so we can go to Stanford together!” Later, when Noah and I were constantly seen together, Julian went insane with jealousy. “Maya, hasn’t this little acting game gone on long enough?” Noah wrapped his arm around my waist and sneered, “Is this the idiot who got a 3 on his AP Physics exam? Maya, stay away from him. Stupidity is contagious.” 01 I realized I was back in the plot of a trashy, angsty high-school drama novel. I was the stereotypical “fallen” popular girl—skipping class, smoking, and destined for a botched abortion. Right now, Julian Chase had me pinned against the door of a stall in the boys’ bathroom, kissing me aggressively. His kiss was urgent and rough. His hand slipped toward my collar, popping two buttons off my school polo. The reason? Today, Chloe Evans had rejected his confession. She told him the truth: the guy she actually liked was our class president, Noah Miller. Julian was the school’s resident bad boy. He was rebellious, handsome, and had dated nearly every pretty girl in our grade. This was the first time he had fallen hard, and it was for a timid, innocent “good girl” who didn’t want him. He had a fire in his chest and nowhere to vent it. So, right after the bell rang, he dragged me into the boys’ bathroom and kissed me like he was starving. In my past life, I gave him my first time in this cramped, filthy place. Later, after an accidental pregnancy, I bled to death on an operating table in a sketchy clinic trying to get an abortion. Thinking of that, I immediately brought my knee up and slammed it between his legs. The lust-filled teenage boy let out a pathetic squeal of pain. “Maya! What the hell are you doing?!” I glared at him. “It’s dirty in here!” Julian grimaced, glancing around the bathroom, and clicked his tongue impatiently. “Tsk, fine. We’ll go somewhere else next time. Happy?” “Julian, I meant you. You are dirty!” I scrubbed the back of my hand fiercely over the lips he had just kissed, looking at him with pure disgust. Then, I kicked the stall door open and walked out. I didn’t want to spend another second breathing the same air as him. Julian’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Maya, what are you playing at? Weren’t you just telling me how good my kisses were?” “What, did you get too into character when I told you to seduce Noah?” “You’re a psycho!” I was too busy rushing back to my locker to grab mouthwash to care about his bruised ego. It was study hall. When I walked into the classroom, several classmates turned to look at me. I sat back in my seat, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Seeing the desk next to me was empty, I turned to ask the guy sitting behind me, Tyler, “Where’s Noah?” “Called to the principal’s office.” “What for?” Tyler’s eyes went wide. “Do you have amnesia? Midterms just came out. Noah dropped over four hundred ranks! Of course he’s getting a talking-to.” “What?!” The memories of my past life flooded back. On the day of midterms, I had fainted from low blood sugar and was sent to the nurse’s office. When I groggily woke up, I saw Noah sitting rigidly in a chair beside my bed. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be taking a test right now?” “I turned in a blank scantron.” Noah’s voice was completely flat, as if he were stating a boring fact. He leaned over to tuck the blanket around me and asked, “Are you feeling sick anywhere else?” “I’m dizzy!” I intentionally made things difficult for him. “Noah, I want candy. The artisan pear and osmanthus hard candies from that shop across town.” “Okay.” He didn’t hesitate. He got up and left to buy them. Later, when the midterm ranks were posted, he scored a zero on his science composite. For the first time ever, he fell from the number one spot to rank 400. Because he had skipped school by jumping the fence to get my candy, the disciplinary committee gave him a major infraction. Back then, I had thought maliciously: Good. The golden boy is dragged down into the mud. The teachers who love him most will start to hate him. Julian will be so happy. But now… “Principal Davis! I’m sorry, it’s all my fault!” I burst into the office, panting, and bowed deeply to the principal. “I was the one who stopped Noah from taking the test! I made him jump the fence to buy me things! He’s a perfect student who follows the rules. I threatened him! I told him if he didn’t listen to me, I’d have older guys from outside school beat him up.” “I’m sorry, Mr. Davis! Put the infraction on my record. He’s going to an Ivy League school! He can’t have a stain on his transcript!” I was already the school’s notorious bad girl. Me doing something terrible wasn’t surprising. The principal didn’t doubt me. He sent Noah back to class and then gave me a brutal scolding. He told me Noah was a once-in-a-century genius, the pride and hope of the school, with a limitless future. He told me that trash like me needed to stay far away from him. I shouldn’t be a stumbling block on his bright, shining path. I nodded sincerely and agreed to every word. The consequences of doing the opposite… I had already learned them the hard way in my last life. When I walked out of the office door, Noah’s cool voice drifted from behind me. “Why did you lie for me?” I turned to look at him. He hadn’t left. He had been waiting for me the whole time. The summer breeze swept through the hallway, rustling the hair on his forehead. Those familiar eyes… usually as dark and still as a lake at night, but right now, they were strangely sparkling. It felt like a flashback to my past life. Julian and I had gotten careless, and I ended up pregnant. The school and my parents found out. We had just turned nineteen, terrified and clueless. The guidance counselor and my parents interrogated me, demanding to know who the father was. I lied and said the baby was Noah’s. Julian hated Noah, so I had to hate Noah too. Making him take the fall shouldn’t be a big deal, right? That was how I comforted myself. The counselor obviously didn’t believe my nonsense. He had absolute faith in Noah’s character and furiously accused me of lying. After all, my record was a mess, my morals were questionable, and I was a certified delinquent. But when he actually brought Noah in to confront me… Noah just looked at me quietly and said softly, “Maya isn’t lying. It’s mine.” I looked away, consumed by guilt. Meanwhile, Noah absorbed the screaming, the insults, and the physical blows from my parents. The counselor looked like his world had collapsed, storming off in anger. Noah received two major infractions. The school revoked his guaranteed admission to Stanford and gave it to the runner-up. And on the day of the SATs, I died on an operating table. Just like that midterm, he turned in a blank test. … “I’m sorry, Noah. I’m really, really sorry.” Emotions choked my throat, making my nose sting. I offered him a heartfelt apology. Noah frowned and walked toward me. “What did Principal Davis say to you?” I forced my tears back. “He told me to stay away from you and stop bothering you.” “And you agreed?” I nodded. I had personally dragged Noah into hell. I ruined his reputation, made him miss his SATs, and destroyed his future. But now, there was still time. As long as I drew a hard line and stayed far, far away from him, I wouldn’t ruin him again. There was still time. Noah’s gaze darkened. His fingers clenched and unclenched. “Maya, since when does a rebel like you listen to teachers?” 02 “I’m doing this for your own good. You’ll understand later.” I didn’t offer any more explanations. I hurried back to the classroom, packed up my things, and moved my desk to the very back corner of the room. When Noah returned, he saw my empty spot next to him. He pressed his lips into a thin line and said nothing. He went back to doing practice problems and reading, just like normal. Seeing this, Chloe Evans walked over, clutching a workbook. Her voice was soft and sweet. “Class President, I’m stuck on this AP Physics problem. Could you teach me?” She was about to sit in the empty chair next to him. But the moment she took a step forward, Noah planted his hand on the chair I used to sit in. With a quick pull, he yanked the chair far away. “Tomorrow. I have practice tests to finish.” Chloe almost sat on the floor. Assuming he was in a bad mood from being yelled at, she kindly tried to comfort him. “Class President, don’t be sad. I know how capable you are. You’ll definitely be number one again next time.” “Just… don’t hang around those bad students anymore…” “Chloe.” Noah cut her off. “You’re on the student council. Is chatting during study hall in line with the rules?” “I…” Tears quickly welled up in Chloe’s eyes. She timidly whispered, “I’m sorry, I know I was wrong.” Then she went back to her seat, buried her face in her arms, and quietly sobbed. I watched the two of them, spacing out. Chloe was beautiful, obedient, and a straight-A student. Only a wonderful girl like her could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Noah and guide him down the right path. Too bad this nerd had zero understanding of how to treat a girl gently. Looks like I’d have to step in and play wingman when necessary. Just then, my phone buzzed. I got a Snapchat message from Julian. [Got a room. The Crystal Rose Motel, Room 508.] [Remember to buy Plan B on your way. I don’t like wearing those things.] I laughed out loud in anger. No wonder he skipped study hall. Does this idiot actually think I’m playing hard to get? [With your toothpick? Save it to clean your teeth!] I quickly typed the sentence and blocked him without hesitation. To think I liked a guy like him in my past life… I must have had brain damage. 03 The next day. I dyed my hot-pink hair back to black. I had altered my uniform skirt so much it couldn’t be fixed, and I had no idea where I threw my school blazer. I’d have to wait until Monday to buy a new set from the administration office. On my way to school, I ran into Tyler, who lived in the same neighborhood. I called out to him. Tyler looked around wildly before his eyes finally locked onto me. His jaw dropped like he could swallow an egg, followed by a purely instinctive curse. “Holy sh*t! Maya? Why did you dye your hair black?” I walked up to him. “Does it look weird?” Tyler blushed, scratching the back of his head. “Not weird. Just… you look… innocent.” “Ah, no, no, just not used to it.” I ignored his babbling and yanked the school blazer right off his back. “Let me borrow this for a couple of days. I’ll give it back soon.” I threw the oversized jacket over my shoulders. Tyler’s face turned even redder. “Maya… when you wear it like that, it looks like you aren’t wearing anything underneath.” Tyler was tall. His jacket completely covered my mini-skirt. If I buttoned it up, all you could see were two pale, bare legs sticking out from beneath a massive blazer. I took the jacket off and tied the sleeves around my waist instead. “How about this?” “That’s much better.” Tyler and I walked side-by-side to school. He asked, “Julian scheduled a fight with the guys from the vocational school tonight. What time are you going?” “I’m not.” The fight was because a guy from the vocational school had catcalled Chloe. Julian got furious and issued a “challenge.” In my past life, I was worried Julian would get outnumbered, so I skipped study hall to go back him up. Who knew that to protect Chloe and help her escape, he would completely abandon me there. If Noah hadn’t shown up later, I don’t even want to know what horrific things might have happened to me. Only an idiot would do something so thankless twice. “Huh? Then what are you doing?” Tyler asked, curious. “Homework.” “Hahaha, homework? Did I hear that right? Maya stopped clinging to Julian and is trying to be a good girl doing homework now?” A mocking laugh came from behind us. Tyler and I both turned around. Julian and his sidekick, Chad, pulled up on a motorcycle and stopped behind us. Chad kept sneering, “Julian, look! Maya even dyed her hair black. Trying to copy Chloe, huh?” Julian had dark circles under his eyes, looking like he hadn’t slept well. His gaze locked onto me, displeasure radiating from him. “Where were you last night? Do you know I waited for you all night?” “What I did last night is none of your fcking business. And you waiting all night is none of my fcking business either.” Ugh. Early mornings are already annoying enough. I rolled my eyes and turned to walk away. “Maya!” Julian shouted my name angrily. Chad patted Julian’s shoulder. “Julian, can’t you see? Maya’s doing this on purpose. She knows you like Chloe, so she’s trying to get your attention by copying her!” “Look, Chloe has black hair, so she dyed her hair black. Chloe always ignores you, so she’s ignoring you. Chloe likes that nerd Noah, so she’s hanging out with Tyler.” “She probably thinks that if she acts like Chloe, you’ll like her.” Chad shook his head like an expert. “Women, man. You can’t give them too much attention. Ignore her for a few days, I guarantee she’ll come running back, begging you to talk to her.” Julian’s expression improved significantly. “So many little tricks.” He scoffed coldly. “She wants to be Chloe? What a cheap imitation.” He revved the engine. With a roar, the motorcycle sped away. 04 The news of Julian’s upcoming fight with the vocational school quickly spread through the class. A girl said to Chloe, “Chloe, be careful. Julian is getting into fights with other guys for you. A certain someone is probably dying of jealousy.” Both of them turned to look at me. I was busy doing practice problems. I muttered to myself, “The magnesium stole my zinc… Mg + ZnSO4 = MgSO4 + Zn.” The girl scoffed. “Look at her, pretending to study. She’s probably dreaming about confessing to Julian right now.” Chloe glanced toward Noah’s desk. Noah was looking at me too, but he quickly turned his head back. His gaze was deep and unreadable. Chloe bit her lip and said loudly, “I don’t care who Julian fights. Don’t associate me with him.” The girl finally shut up. I studied seriously for an entire day. I filled half a notebook. But I had fallen so far behind that trying to catch up made my brain feel like it was going to explode. So, after the last bell rang, I snuck up to the roof alone to memorize SAT vocabulary words. But I accidentally fell asleep while reading. By the time I woke up, the sky was dark. When I went back to the classroom for evening study hall, both Chloe and Noah were gone. I had a bad feeling and quickly asked Tyler, “Where are they?” “Oh, Chloe left with Julian.” “I’m asking about Noah!” “Noah? No idea! Since when do you care about him? But actually, after Julian and Chloe left, I didn’t see him either.” Crap! I dropped my SAT prep book, spun around, and sprinted out of the school. When I finally reached the abandoned warehouse district, relying on my memory from my past life… The two sides were already in a brutal brawl. I stood outside the crowd, frantically searching for Noah. Chad saw me, a smug smile twisting his bruised face. “Julian, look who’s here! I told you, how could Maya actually stay at school and study while you’re out here fighting?” Julian’s eyes fell on me. He sneered, “Maya, stop f*cking clinging to me. I don’t have time to protect you right now!” He threw a punch at a guy who was trying to grab Chloe. But the 200-pound guy didn’t even budge. Instead, he grabbed Julian by the collar and hoisted him into the air. Chloe screamed in terror. Just then, I spotted Noah grappling with someone a short distance away. I pushed through the crowd and ran toward him. As I ran past Julian, he strained his neck and yelled, “Maya, I don’t need your…” Before he could finish, I brushed past him and threw my arms around Noah from behind. “Noah, watch out!” A fist was flying toward Noah’s head. He quickly spun around, shielding me in his arms, and kicked the attacker away. Julian’s words died in his throat, his eyes wide with absolute disbelief. In that moment of distraction, the 200-pound guy slammed Julian brutally onto the concrete. He let out a bloodcurdling scream of pain. I yelled, “Noah, run!” Noah understood. He grabbed my hand, and we sprinted away. The guys from the vocational school chased us relentlessly. Noah and I dashed into an alleyway. There was a narrow, hidden nook off the main path. We ducked inside. But the space was incredibly tight. We had to press our bodies tightly together just to fit. If I nodded my head even slightly, I’d probably kiss Noah’s chin. Noah’s breathing drifted against my ear. In that tense, quiet moment, it was both ticklish and overwhelmingly distracting. I gritted my teeth. “Can you breathe a little quieter?” Noah suddenly chuckled. “Maya, you’re pressing into me.” I looked down. My chest was pressed firmly against him. My face flushed red. I suddenly remembered my character setting in this novel—the brainless, D-cup “fallen” popular girl. “Shut up!” It was a long time before the footsteps outside finally faded away. Noah and I stepped out of the alley. “Are you hurt?” Noah asked. I shook my head, then immediately started scolding him. “Are you an idiot? Those guys were fighting over Chloe to show off. Why did you get involved?!” “Weren’t you there for Julian…” “I don’t give a crap about their drama! I fell asleep on the roof studying vocabulary. Did you think I was here to help Julian?” I reached out, grabbed Noah by the chin, and inspected his face. Thankfully, there was only one small cut. “You idiot. Didn’t you think about what happens if a straight-A student like you gets a police record?” Noah obediently let me inspect his face, but his eyes were glued to me. “Maya, are you worried about me?” “Duh! You’re a perfect student. Your future is bright, you have limitless potential. You’re nothing like us!” Noah pressed his lips together and stayed silent, letting me drag him to a pharmacy. I bought antiseptic and cotton swabs, carefully cleaning his cut. Afraid of hurting him, I leaned in close, gently blowing on the wound. The moment I stood back up, Noah, who had been completely silent, suddenly called my name. “Maya…” “Hmm?” “You don’t like ‘good students.’ So, I won’t be a good student anymore, okay?” Noah sat on the steps outside the pharmacy, looking up at me very seriously. “Don’t you dare!” I was shocked he even had that thought. “Being a good student is amazing! The teachers and classmates like you, you can get into a top Ivy League school, find a great job, make a ton of money…” “But you think I’m boring.” Noah cut me off, his thick, raven-black eyelashes lowering. “You couldn’t even stand sitting next to me in class.” 05 I couldn’t explain to Noah that I had been reborn. I also couldn’t tell him how miserably I ruined him in my past life. I could only warn him to focus on his studies and stop having crazy thoughts. After that, I walked toward the school in silence. He followed behind me. Not too fast, not too slow. Always keeping a safe distance. As we passed through a small park, a groan of pain came from the shadows. I glanced over. It was Julian. He was slumped against a large oak tree, covered in bruises and blood. He had even lost one of his sneakers. Chloe was nowhere to be found. This time, without me to stall for him, the rebellious, arrogant bad boy had gotten beaten to a pulp. Seeing me, Julian’s eyes lit up. “Maya, you came looking for me?” Then he complained irritably, “Why took you so long?!” I stood perfectly still. Noah walked up and stood beside me. Julian’s gaze darted back and forth between us, his face instantly darkening. “You’ve been with him this whole time?” “Yeah!” “You… whatever. Come help me up.” I crossed my arms, lifted my chin, and looked down at his pathetic state like I was admiring a painting. Nothing happened for a long minute. Only then did it dimly dawn on Julian that I had absolutely no intention of helping him. His face turned ugly. “Maya, don’t take this too far. If you come over here right now, I’ll forgive everything that happened the last two days. Otherwise, you won’t be able to fix this!” “Fix what? How are you going to punish me? Dump me? Never talk to me again? Go wholeheartedly after Chloe, or some other girl?” I smiled. “Julian, that’s exactly what I want.” Julian frowned. “Maya, over-acting is boring!” I shrugged and turned to Noah. “See? Trash belongs in the dirt. Saving him is a waste of effort. Let’s go.” With that, I grabbed Noah’s hand and walked away. “Maya!” The guy behind me slammed a fist into the ground, issuing his final threat. “If you walk away now, don’t come crying to me later begging for forgiveness!” I never looked back. 06 Julian ended up in the hospital. Chad’s injuries were minor, so he returned to school quickly. He organized the class to buy flowers and a fruit basket to visit Julian. Seeing me sitting at my desk, completely indifferent and reading a book… He marched over, sat on my desk, and sneered, “Maya, I’m giving you a chance to redeem yourself. You want it or not?” “No.” Chad frowned. “I haven’t even told you what it is.” “If you want to talk about Julian, save your breath. I have zero interest in hearing it.” Chad looked incredulous. “Maya, Julian is in the hospital right now. This is exactly when he needs someone to care for him. If you swoop in now while he’s vulnerable, maybe he’ll…” “Why would I swoop in? He didn’t get hurt for me.” “Oh, so you’re jealous!” Chad looked like he had a sudden realization. “Well yeah, you can’t compare to Chloe. But you’re way better at being a lapdog. Maybe if you keep licking his boots long enough, Julian will be moved!” “Get lost!” I kicked him right off my desk. “If you keep running your mouth, I’ll sew it shut!” Julian had a lot of “bros,” and whenever they saw me, they respectfully called me “Maya.” Many of them even supported me becoming the “official girlfriend.” Only this Chad guy. Every time he saw me, it was always mocking or sarcastic. Like I had dug up his family’s graves or something. “You… you ungrateful bitch!” Chad clutched his butt, wincing in pain. Realizing I wasn’t going to play ball, he went looking for Chloe, but couldn’t find her anywhere. The classroom was a chaotic, noisy mess. I grabbed my physics textbook and headed out, looking for a quiet place to study. To my surprise, I saw Noah and Chloe in an abandoned club room. I quickly hid out of sight. I heard Chloe speaking to Noah in a soft, gentle voice. “Noah, did you get hurt yesterday? I was so worried about you, but I couldn’t reach you.” Noah: “I’m fine. You came all this way just to say that?” Chloe clutched her skirt, took a deep breath, seemingly summoning a lot of courage before speaking. “I hate Julian, Maya, and that whole group. They’re violent, brainless, and full of bad habits. Nothing good ever comes from getting involved with them! Noah, we’re not like them. We have to stay far away from them to…” “Chloe.” Noah stood with one hand in his pocket. His skin had a nearly sickly, porcelain paleness to it. His dark eyes behind his wire-rimmed glasses were as dead as stagnant water. “If you hate Julian, stay away from him. You don’t need to report it to me. But if you’re trying to tell me to stay away from Maya, I’m sorry. I have no intention of doing that.” He was done talking. He turned to leave. Chloe quickly blocked his path. Her eyes were slightly red, looking as stubborn as a little rabbit. “Yes, I admit Maya is interesting. When everyone else is burying their heads in books, looking dull and tired, her kind of beauty stands out. The school forbids dyed hair, but she dyes it bright pink. The school requires modest uniforms, but she alters her skirt to be super short. She wears makeup, smokes, skips class, fights, swears… and she’s still the center of attention for all the guys in school.” “But Noah, you and her are not the same kind of person! She likes playing pranks for fun. Seeing you run around in circles makes her happy. Your grades dropping last time… getting into that brawl this time… she’s going to drag you down and ruin you!” Chloe was pleading earnestly. “Noah, I’m helping you! I’m trying to correct your path and guide you back to the right one!” “Are you done?” Noah finally showed a look of impatience. “You like me, don’t you? You think you and I are the same kind of person?” He took long strides, backing Chloe up step by step. “You think you know me so well?” “Just because I get good grades, helped you with a couple of math problems, and almost never say no when classmates ask for help… just because the teachers like me… you think I’m a good boy?” Chloe’s back hit the wall. She had nowhere left to retreat. She bit her lip, her voice trembling. “Aren’t you?” Noah’s lips curled into a smirk. He reached his long arm past Chloe’s ear and slammed his hand against the wall behind her with a loud thud. She flinched violently. “I have 5,276 pictures of Maya on my phone. Every night, I have to look at them just to fall asleep.” “The scrap fabric she threw away when she shortened her skirt? It’s under my pillow. I don’t even know how many times I’ve kissed and touched it.” “She said my fingers were pretty. I really wanted to turn them into a specimen and give them to her.” “I’m crazier than Julian. I play the ‘good student’ because I’m afraid of scaring her.” “Chloe… do you still dare to say you like me?” Chloe covered her mouth, her entire body trembling in terror. Her face was soaked with tears. Finally, she pushed Noah away and ran out. I stood frozen in shock, only to lock eyes with the person right in front of me. Noah said, “Done eavesdropping?” I instinctively took two steps back. Noah walked right up to me. The “good student’s” dark side had been exposed. The bright, perfect academic god was actually a hidden psychopath. His fingers, hanging by his sides, curled slightly. The veins on the back of his porcelain-white hands bulged. Suppressing his panic, he asked, “Are you afraid of me?” The moment he asked, I actually calmed down. I was someone who had seen two lifetimes of Noah! I knew better than anyone how gentle, restrained, and wholeheartedly devoted he could be. “No.” I quickly shook my head. “I wouldn’t be afraid of you, no matter what.” I thought for a moment and added, “Noah, I still like you best when you’re studying. You look so confident and radiant. I want to be your desk-mate again. Will you tutor me so we can go to Stanford together?” Noah looked at me in shock. “Maya… you have to keep your word.” “Of course.” I reached out and hooked my pinky finger around his. “Pinky promise. Liars are dogs.” I shamelessly moved my desk back to its original spot, sitting next to Noah again. I figured… Since even a straight-A, perfect student like Chloe couldn’t capture Noah’s heart and guide him to the right path. Then I, the instigator of all this bad behavior, would have to do it myself. In my past life, I caused him to miss his SATs. In this life, I was going to personally watch Noah get accepted into a top university. Watch him shine brilliantly, build a successful career, and have a happy, fulfilling life. If he wanted me, I would stay by his side. If he got tired of me, I would leave quietly. In this lifetime, it was my turn to protect him. I started pouring all my time into studying and making sure Noah was studying too. Noah tutored me. He was brilliant. No matter how difficult the problem was, his explanations made it simple. With his help, I could actually solve a few fill-in-the-blank math problems on my own. I even scored a 63 on a math quiz. Noah bought me osmanthus hard candies from across town as a reward. I slumped over my desk, exhausted. “The max score is 150. I got a 63.” Considering I had boldly claimed I wanted to go to Stanford, I was surprised Noah didn’t laugh his head off. Noah patted my back consolingly. “Don’t rush. Take it step by step.” Sometimes, when I got incredibly frustrated with a problem, the craving for a cigarette would become unbearable, and I’d start getting antsy. Noah humored me. “Are you feeling uncomfortable? Do you want some candy to take the edge off?” He was always the first to notice when I was off. I bared my teeth, trying to look menacing. “Candy is too sweet. I want to bite someone.” Noah actually unzipped his jacket, rolled up his sleeve, and offered his arm to my mouth. “Bite.” When I didn’t move, he offered his other arm. “Or this one?” “You asked for it!” I grabbed his arm and bit down, leaving a visible teeth mark on his forearm. Noah didn’t even flinch. I suspected he was made of wood and couldn’t feel pain. “Noah, during class today, you secretly looked at me over a dozen times. You weren’t paying attention! The bite was your punishment. If you don’t get first place on the midterms this time, watch how I deal with you!” Noah chuckled. “Don’t worry. Looking at you won’t stop me from getting into Stanford.” I pouted. “You better.” 07 Right before midterms. Julian was discharged from the hospital. I hadn’t seen him for over half a month. He had lost a lot of weight, and there was a scar stretching from his left brow bone to the corner of his eye. It was deep; it probably wouldn’t heal perfectly. It wouldn’t exactly ruin his face, but for someone as vain as Julian, it was definitely going to bother him for a while. Good news though. Probably because Chloe had completely abandoned him during the fight, his attitude toward her had cooled significantly since he returned. Once, they ran into each other face-to-face. Chloe finally mustered the courage to say, “Julian, I’m going to Stanford in the future. You getting into fights for me and getting yourself hurt… I just think it’s childish. I’m not moved by it. I could never like someone like you.” Julian didn’t react much. He just said, “Got it,” and walked right past her. Meanwhile, I was glued to Noah, studying constantly. Even at the cafeteria, I chased him down to ask about problems I didn’t understand in class. I tied my hair up in a ponytail and wore a uniform skirt that went past my knees. No more skipping class, no more fighting, no more smoking. No more wasting my youth with Julian and his deadbeat crew. One weekend, Noah and I were at a fast-food joint doing homework. Coincidentally, Julian and his boys came in to order food. They must have just been smoking outside; the smell of mint mixed with nicotine rolled off them. Noah noticed my discomfort and naturally rolled up his sleeve, offering his forearm. “I didn’t bring candy. If it’s bothering you, bite me.” I couldn’t help but laugh, complaining, “They stink so bad!” Then I leaned closer to his neck and sniffed. “Noah, you smell the best.” Noah’s body went completely rigid. The tips of his ears unconsciously turned red. He pretended to be serious. “Focus on your work.” “Yes sir, Mr. President.” Chad, who had just grabbed their food, witnessed this entire exchange. He couldn’t help but complain to Julian, “How long is Maya going to keep this act up? I’m starting to think she’s not faking it. She looks like she genuinely likes Noah.” Julian’s face darkened. He turned and walked to the door to smoke, but his lighter failed to spark several times. Chad yelled from behind, “Julian, aren’t you going to eat?” Julian grew increasingly irritated. “Lost my appetite!”

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The moment Caleb’s cold fingers touched me, a burning heat spread from my cheeks all the way to the tips of my ears! Caleb frowned slightly, a hint of concern in his eyes: “Chloe, is this how you take care of yourself?” 1 I was pulling an all-nighter, grinding through product documentation, when a sharp, stabbing pain hit my left breast. Thinking back, this had been happening for almost a month. Panicking, I quickly opened the hospital app and booked an appointment with a breast specialist at St. Jude’s Medical Center. When my number was called, I rushed eagerly into the consultation room. But the moment I stepped inside, I froze. Caleb Wright was sitting in front of the computer, his eyes glued to an X-ray, occasionally explaining something to the seven or eight stylishly dressed medical residents gathered around him. I tried desperately to recall the name of the doctor I had booked. It was 100% not Caleb Wright! St. Jude’s had the best breast surgery department in the city, and despite his young age, Caleb had already become its top surgeon. Getting an appointment with him was harder than winning the lottery. Of course, I would never have booked an appointment with him on purpose. Because Caleb Wright was my ex-boyfriend. The doctor I had originally booked, a man around forty with black-rimmed glasses, saw me come in and beamed. “You’re in luck today, young lady! Dr. Wright is here reviewing scans. Come on, tell us, what’s bothering you?” Caleb stretched his neck, lifted his gaze, and looked at me. His dark eyes still sparkled like stars. His clear, soothing voice came through his surgical mask: “Chloe Bennett, right? What seems to be the problem?” Seeing him again, I almost drowned in those clear, deep eyes of his. I stared blankly for three seconds before snapping myself out of his mesmerizing spell. “Um… well… I felt a lump on the left side…” This. Was. So. Awkward! He typed my symptoms into the medical record with practiced ease, asking methodically, “Does it hurt?” “No.” “How long has it been like this?” “About a month.” “Dr. Patel, could you perform a physical exam on her?” He turned to the female doctor sitting next to him, then turned back to the computer screen. I lay down on the examination bed, letting the female doctor… After examining me for a while, her brow remained tightly furrowed. My heart instantly sank. Whenever a doctor frowns, it’s never a good sign. She turned to Caleb. “Dr. Wright, you should take a look at this.” I’m doomed. She actually called Caleb over to check? Do I have a terminal illness? Hearing her, Caleb walked over, followed closely by his trailing gaggle of medical residents. A whole crowd of people, including one or two men? You’ve got to be kidding me. Was my lovely figure going to be exposed to all these people? Even if I was just a piece of meat in their professional eyes, I still had my modesty, okay?! Sob… Caleb approached with his long strides, shot a cold glare at the people behind him, and with a swift sweep of his long arm, smoothly pulled the privacy curtain shut. Thank God! “Pull your shirt up,” he said, his voice low. His eyes were downcast, not looking at me. Whatever. I shouldn’t care so much. My life was more important. I quickly pulled up my shirt. Damn it. Of course I was wearing the lingerie set I had bought for his birthday. This was too embarrassing… 2 I was with Caleb for three years, and I had lusted after him for five. But he had never laid a hand on me. For his birthday last year—well, technically just three months ago—I specially bought a black lace set. Extremely confident in my figure, I was thrilled, thinking tonight was the night I’d finally say goodbye to my innocence. So, after taking a shower, I rushed to his room. When I poked my head in and saw he didn’t object, I boldly slipped under the covers. The result? His thick brows furrowed slightly. He quickly grabbed his jacket, wrapped me up tight like a burrito, effortlessly slung me over his shoulder, tossed me back into my own room, and left me with one sentence: “Have you no shame, Chloe?” For a while, I seriously wondered if he had some unspeakable medical condition. So, the next day, I tried to trick him into visiting a men’s health clinic. Of course, it didn’t work. How could my petty tricks fool a top-tier medical professional? Refusing to give up, I bought a bunch of “supplements” online. The result was that half an hour after drinking a cup of black coffee I’d personally brewed for him, he came looking for me, cup in hand, while I was petting my cat. Holding the cup, his face was dark, his eyes terrifyingly gloomy. His voice was deep and grave: “Chloe, what did you put in this coffee?” I felt incredibly guilty. I pretended to groom Meatball, who was sprawled out comfortably, and answered with forced casualness: “Nothing! Just put a little more sugar than usual. You work so hard, I wanted you to have something sweet!” After saying that, I flashed him an innocent, sweet smile. He set the cup down, stepped forward, and with one sweeping motion, scooped me up in a princess carry and laid me on the bed. Then, he leaned over me. His firm, muscular chest pressed against mine. At that moment, his lips were less than two inches from mine. His captivating, peach-blossom eyes stared intently at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Oh God, I can’t take it. Yes, please! After a long pause, he said in a low voice: “Chloe, you’ve crossed the line.” I was over the moon, my heart racing, plotting to buy more of that “supplement” because clearly, it worked wonders. But, as it turned out, I was overthinking it. This position lasted for exactly three minutes before Caleb got up, straightened his clothes, and walked out. Just like that, he walked out… Plan failed. In a fit of rage, I threw all the supplements away. Which Meatball ended up eating. He spent the next few nights howling at my window. Unable to bear the noise, I ruthlessly took Meatball to the vet and had him neutered. A cold touch brought me back to the present. My cheeks and ears burned intensely. Before, I had racked my brain trying to get him to touch me, and he refused. Now, I was getting my wish under these circumstances. It seemed my charm level really wasn’t high enough to arouse the stoic, ascetic Dr. Caleb Wright. His fingers moved gently as he asked in a low voice: “Tell me if it hurts.” “Mhm.” I responded softly, pretending to be calm, but in reality, I was so nervous my nails were digging into my palms, stinging with pain. He paused for a few seconds when he pinched the lump, then withdrew his hand. He took a shallow breath, frowning at me: “Chloe, is this how you take care of yourself?” I pursed my lips and asked tentatively, “Dr. Wright, is it… is it really bad?” He stood to the side, his brow still furrowed, his voice heavy: “We need to do a core needle biopsy. I’ll go with you. Right now.” For Caleb to frown, the situation must really be bad. I had already started drafting my will in my head, wondering who I could entrust my arrogant cat to. After all, my mom really disliked my cat. Caleb strode forward, and I jogged to keep up with him. He was tall and walked like the wind. Even in a white coat, he stood out in the crowd. 3 This scene suddenly made me a little sad, reminding me of how I used to tirelessly follow Caleb around at Johns Hopkins. He was the unattainable “flower on the high peak” at Hopkins. Rumor had it he was an exceptional talent, specially selected by the university. He published a paper that shocked the medical community at 18 and was admitted to Hopkins before even taking his final exams. Caleb was also an immovable iceberg. Since he enrolled, the number of girls chasing him was as numerous as hairs on a cow, but he rejected every single one of them. Everyone rumored that Caleb didn’t like women. When did I start liking Caleb? It was probably when I saw him speaking eloquently at a podium. The cool, immensely confident demeanor of that young man instantly crashed into my heart. Or maybe it was on the way back from class, his tall, slender figure in a black trench coat and that handsome, ascetic face that instantly bewitched my teenage heart. Later, I decided it was when he stood at the classroom door and asked, “Who is Chloe Bennett?” And then casually pointed out an error in my notes: “In your pharmacology notes, the diagram for the mechanism of local anesthesia on page ten is wrong.” How could a young girl experiencing her first crush resist that? That night, I boldly declared on the university forum: “Chloe Bennett will win Caleb Wright’s heart!” The forum exploded that night. “Good luck!” “Brave!” “Grabbing my popcorn!” “If you catch Caleb, I’ll live-stream myself singing!” On a starry midsummer night, I stopped Caleb after he finished anatomy class. Mustering all my courage, I looked up at his sharply defined jawline and said, “Caleb, I’m going to pursue you!” He frowned slightly, shot me a cold glance, and parted his thin lips: “Don’t block my way.” This was an expected outcome. However, I didn’t lose heart. I was 100% confident in my looks, and I believed the old saying that a girl chasing a boy is as easy as piercing a veil. What everyone saw after that was Chloe Bennett tirelessly trailing behind Caleb Wright. From spring to summer, and then from summer to winter. During meals, I’d shamelessly sit next to Caleb. He would frown slightly, but strangely, he never told me to leave. During his presentations, I always went out of my way to get a front-row seat. He would speak clearly on stage, and I would cheer loudly for him from the audience. When his clear, spring-water-like eyes swept over the audience and landed on me, even if only for a second, I’d be excited all night. I brought him homemade iced lattes when it was hot, knitted him a scarf when it was cold, bought him medicine when he was sick… I used every highly-rated chasing tactic on the forum. Even though he always said coldly, “I don’t drink this,” or “I don’t need it.” But I remained tireless. Even I found myself annoying, but thankfully, Caleb never blocked me. He said, “Chloe, don’t waste your time on me.” “Chloe, the lattes you make don’t taste good. Stop bringing them.” “Chloe, focus on your studies.” “Chloe, I don’t like you.” I thought to myself, just persist a little longer. The current Caleb was willing to talk to me, which was a small achievement. The love of youth surges like a massive wave, accompanied by a brave, stubborn refusal to turn back until hitting a brick wall. Caleb’s clear voice pulled me back to reality: “This will hurt a little. Bear with it.” When the needle pierced my skin, he gripped my hand tightly. “Put a rush on these results for me,” he told the doctor performing the biopsy. When we left the room, he had his hands in his coat pockets and instructed me: “Go home for now. I’ll notify you when the results are out. Be careful not to massage the area forcefully.” Me: … Why would I massage it forcefully… This medical advice was truly embarrassing. Out of politeness, I thanked him. He turned his face away slightly: “No need. Professional habit.” After saying that, he strode away. 4 See? Breaking up was the right decision. Caleb simply didn’t like me, just as he had told me five years ago. It still hurt a lot, though, even if I was the one who initiated the breakup. Two months ago, he told me he was going on a business trip. But he actually went to a hotel. He forgot to delete a text message before leaving, and I saw it. The content was: “Hey handsome, I’m at the Bellagio Hotel.” The moment I saw that message, my heart clenched, and I could barely breathe. I followed him to the hotel. He stayed inside all night. The next morning, he came out with a gorgeous, glamorous young woman. My chest spasmed continuously, my throat felt blocked, and I didn’t even realize I had dug my nails into my palms until they bled. I didn’t have the courage to confront him. Wearing a mask, I hid behind the hotel wall. After they left, I took a cab to my apartment building and bought two coffees and some bagels. I called him and asked, “Are you back? I’m waiting for you to have breakfast.” He answered casually and relaxed, “You eat first. I’m on my way, I’ll be there in half an hour.” How could Caleb, who was always meticulous, forget to delete a text message? Perhaps he truly didn’t care about me at all, so he didn’t feel the need to hide it. That afternoon, when Caleb pushed open the apartment door, I was on the balcony hanging laundry. He walked up to me and took a delicate box out of his bag. His long fingers opened the velvet box, revealing a delicate dolphin necklace. The dolphin’s eyes were set with two diamonds, sparkling with fine light, just like his eyes. Caleb’s eyes were full of a gentleness I had never seen before. In the past, his eyes always carried a faint sense of detachment. He said, “This is for you, Chloe.” During our three years together, Caleb actually gave me things often. It’s just that he never gave them to me in person. He would always just have them shipped to the apartment and then coolly inform me: “Chloe, your gift arrived. Go get it.” The things I received were always the latest season’s releases, and coincidentally, they were exactly the styles I liked. Holding a limited-edition Chanel bag, I’d run up to him acting all cute, blinking my starry eyes, and saying in a sweet voice: “Oh my god, did you pick this out yourself? I love it, love it, love it! You’re so, so, so thoughtful!” Caleb’s fingers would fly across his keyboard without even looking up at me. He’d part his thin lips and throw out a sentence: “The personal shopper picked it. Glad you like it.” I’d pout, drape my arms over his shoulders, and say coquettishly: “Well, you gave it to me, so I’m happy.” His fingers would pause for a few seconds before he said softly: “Alright, I still have things to take care of. You go to sleep first.” Then he would go back to furiously typing on the keyboard. But this time, he personally picked out the gift and personally handed it to me. I should have been happy, but why did my heart feel like it was being pricked by needles? Caleb went out and spent the night with another woman, and suddenly his personality changed. Was he feeling guilty? I tossed and turned in bed late into the night, reading through many forums, and finally came to a conclusion: “Being a simp leaves you with nothing. Cut your losses early.” 5 Then I sent a message to Caleb in the next room: “Caleb, let’s break up.” I didn’t expect him to reply instantly. The content was infuriatingly indifferent: “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Go to sleep.” Caleb really didn’t love me; he didn’t even care about breaking up. I listened to sad love songs under the covers and cried for most of the night. Looking at the time, I only had two hours before I had to get up. I rushed to the kitchen to grab an ice pack. I didn’t want to go to work the next day with eyes swollen like puffy pastries. My major was Pharmacology, and my current job was in pharmaceutical R&D at a drug company. Unlike Caleb, I got into this major entirely through years of hard studying. Lacking natural talent, I had to put in 100% effort later on. At such a young age, Caleb had already secured the position of Chief of Breast Surgery at the best hospital in the city thanks to his exceptional skills. But me? I was still a nobody in the industry. After icing my eyes, I went back to the bedroom to catch an hour of sleep. When I got up, Caleb was leaning against the doorway waiting for me. He was wearing a gray trench coat that day. He stared at me intently, his voice a little hoarse: “Let’s go. You’re going to be late.” “Okay.” If you ask me why I dated Caleb for so long, the reason was that he never failed to do the things a boyfriend should do. Once, I scraped someone’s car while driving to work. I called him, and he said in a deep voice: “Don’t get out of the car. I’ll be right there.” Ten minutes later, he arrived at the scene. After he helped me handle everything, I thought he was going to scold me. Instead, he just rubbed my hair and said softly, “It’s okay. From now on, I’ll drive you.” And then he drove me, rain or shine, for two years. Whenever I felt like he didn’t care about me, the things he did would give me the illusion that he did. He could accurately remember my menstrual cycle. My period was never very regular, but every time he reminded me, it would arrive a day or two later. Sometimes when we were out and my period arrived suddenly, he would surprisingly pull a pad out of my bag, perfectly solving my awkwardness. I frowned and asked him: “When did you put that in there?” He took a sip of his coffee, lowered his head, and said coldly: “When it needed to be put in there.” Birthday and holiday gifts and flowers were never late. But I still felt that there seemed to be a sense of detachment between us. He didn’t seem as intimately close with me as other couples were. When my best friend Lily found out that after three years with Caleb, I was still an “unopened rose,” she gave me advice. She said it must be because I hadn’t completely conquered Caleb yet. So, I launched a passionate courtship campaign against Caleb. The result was that Caleb kissed me even less… The car parked downstairs at my company. After a long while, he spoke in a low voice: “Chloe, why do you want to break up?” My fingers were already on the door handle. I froze for a moment at his question, but quickly adjusted my state. I took a deep breath and answered him casually: “Caleb, I just don’t like you anymore. Is that okay?” He fell silent. The narrow interior of the car instantly became dead quiet, with only the sound of our breathing rising and falling. After a long while, his slightly hoarse voice came through: “Take good care of yourself.” He lifted his gaze to look at me, the emotions in his eyes dark and unclear. “Mhm.” I pulled the car door open and walked straight upstairs. Three days later, Caleb cleanly moved out of my apartment. Looking at the room he used to live in, large tears rolled down my cheeks. 6 I don’t know why Caleb moved in with me after I graduated and started working. He had never mentioned his family to me. Nor had he ever invited me to meet his parents. After he graduated, I was still in college. Back then, he often leaned against the big tree at the campus gate waiting for me to finish class, or he would wait for me with a bouquet of flowers. At that time, I really felt like the envy of every girl in the university. Whenever I asked questions about his family, he would deliberately change the subject. I guessed maybe he had a particularly pitiful background, an inspirational young man who relied on his super-high IQ to counterattack and achieve a perfect life. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then I wouldn’t ask. I didn’t want to make him unhappy. It didn’t matter; we were both ordinary people. As long as we worked hard, life wouldn’t be bad. Besides, it looked like he was being treated very well. After the breakup, I was depressed for a while. Lily looked at me with a heartbroken expression and said: “Chloe, tell me, you managed to pluck that ‘flower on the high peak,’ why were you willing to let go at this point? Tsk, tsk, that’s a very high-quality stock with great potential.” “Think about all the hardships you went through to chase Caleb down! When it was time to reap the harvest, you just threw the whole pot out with the flower.” I tilted my head back and drank the remaining half bottle of beer in my hand, answering in a low voice: “A flower on a high peak is just that. Even if I picked it, it still doesn’t belong to me. Maybe only the moon hanging high in the sky is worthy of him.” I still didn’t tell Lily the real reason for the breakup. That night, I opened the university forum that had been dusty for years. That year, Caleb agreeing to date Chloe Bennett made the forum boil over again. After trailing Caleb like a puppy for two years, he remained lukewarm. I always thought there was no hope, and besides, he was about to leave soon. The Dean of St. Jude’s had personally come to the university to recruit him. That day, golden-orange sunset clouds covered the sky. I couldn’t find him in the study hall. I originally wanted to say goodbye to him. Perhaps to Caleb, whether I said goodbye or not didn’t matter. Just as I was about to leave the study hall, Caleb appeared in the last row of the classroom. The afterglow of the setting sun poured down from above him, plating him with a layer of golden light. His white shirt was so white it was dazzling, blinding my eyes for a moment. He spoke in a low, clear, and bright voice: “Chloe, come here.” I walked timidly towards him, the little deer in my heart constantly bumping around, as if it would break through my chest the next second, impatient to throw itself onto Caleb. When I walked up to him, Caleb suddenly reached out his long arms and pulled me into his embrace. What followed was his tender, lingering kiss. His lips were soft and sweet, sweet to the core of my heart. Only the coldness of his nose tip allowed me to regain a little bit of rationality. My limbs felt like they were filled with lead, unable to move, but the heat wave in my body surged tirelessly, making my ears and cheeks burn. His fingers supported the back of my head, slipping into my hair and gently running through it. I could feel the temperature of his fingertips, icy cold. He took out his phone, snapped a picture, and then let me go. “Chloe, make me a cup of your homemade iced latte tomorrow.” He leaned against the desk, his expression lazy and content. His dark eyes seemed to hold a galaxy of stars; if I wasn’t careful, I would drown in them. I was so excited I was incoherent, hurriedly agreeing: “O-okay.” I knew that the star in the sky had taken root in my heart from then on. That night, this photo appeared on Caleb’s social media page. In less than two minutes, my notifications exploded. This photo was pushed to the top trending topic at Hopkins. I still remember the top comments today: “The flower on the high peak has finally been picked.” “Alright, live streaming tonight, I’ll sing a song, welcome everyone to send me rockets.” “Blessings, the goddess finally melted the iceberg.” “Envious and jealous, my male god is now a taken man.” My finger kept swiping on the screen, finally stopping on Caleb’s page. That photo was still pinned to the top. The kiss under the sunset, beautiful and brief, just like our relationship. Perhaps at that time, Caleb was only moved by my two years of persistence. After the breakup, Caleb actually came looking for me. He leaned against the stairwell, a spark of fire at his fingertips. He lifted his eyes through the smoke, his voice a bit hoarse: “Chloe, are we really not going to continue?” I was surprised. When did he start smoking? I remembered he didn’t smoke. So much so that I ignored his question. He spoke again: “Chloe, do you really want to leave?” My fingers tightened around my bag strap. At this moment, I had to be tough. I looked firmly into his eyes: “Yes.” I thought he would say something else, even if it was just asking, “Why?” But he turned straight around and left, his back looking free and easy. 6 Two weeks ago, while I was organizing things at home, I found a document of Caleb’s that he hadn’t taken away. I opened it and found it was a real estate purchase contract. The owner was listed as “Sarah.” I looked at the invoice, and the payer clearly said “Caleb Wright.” My mind went completely blank. Caleb had bought a house for that woman, and paid in full. Yet I, his girlfriend of three years, didn’t even know anything about his family situation. It felt like there were thousands of threads in my heart, densely tangled together, impossible to untie or sort out. I decided to go to the hospital and return it to him. Actually, I still wanted to hear how he would explain it, even though I knew I was very likely just going to humiliate myself. But I wanted to give my many years of love a clear period. Without making an appointment in advance, I went straight to his office. Walking into the office, a girl was standing beside Caleb. They seemed to be chatting. The girl’s laughter was like a silver bell, his expression was gentle. I called out coldly: “Caleb, you forgot your things.” Hearing this, they both turned around. When I saw the girl’s face, my heart felt like it had taken a heavy blow, aching to the bone. Wasn’t that girl the same one who came out of the hotel with him last time? As beautiful as a doll. Caleb saw me, a flash of light passed through his eyes for a moment, then dimmed again. He spoke flatly: “What are you doing here?” “Caleb, so this is the kind of person you are.” I threw the documents in my hand onto his desk. The girl looked shocked and stood timidly to the side. Caleb frowned tightly after hearing this: “Chloe, what are you talking about? I don’t understand.” “Stop pretending. You’ve even brought a girl to the hospital.” Caleb waved his hand helplessly, explaining: “She’s my sister.” Of course she’s a sister. A sister with a different last name, a sister who spends the night in a hotel with you! Listening to his ridiculous explanation, I let out a deep breath. I didn’t want to continue arguing with him about this embarrassing matter in the hospital. I still didn’t have the courage to hear him say it himself, so I turned and walked out of the office. As the old saying goes, good fortune never comes in pairs, and misfortunes never come singly. Just after walking out the door, I ran into family members causing a scene at the hospital. Actually, as soon as I walked out the door, I heard what sounded like people arguing ahead. I thought it was normal to have arguments in a place like a hospital. Suddenly, a man holding a fruit knife rushed out of the crowd. Behind him, two security guards chased him with riot forks. The crowd began to riot, and people started screaming. When I realized the danger, the man was already swinging the knife and stabbing towards me. I quickly raised my bag to block it, my body falling backwards uncontrollably, smashing heavily against the stainless steel chairs behind me. Just when I thought I was done for, Caleb blocked in front of me with a beautiful right kick. The man fell to the ground with a thud, and the knife in his hand dropped onto the pristine white floor, making a crisp sound. After the man was taken away by security, Caleb bent down, picked me up, and ran wildly down the hallway. That girl seemed to be following behind him the whole time. My right wrist had somehow been slashed by the knife at some point, and blood kept flowing out. The bag I pushed out to block was also slashed with a huge gash. My poor Chanel… Inside the office, Caleb’s brow was tightly furrowed, his eyes filled with bottomless anger. The hand holding the tweezers trembled slightly. After some manipulation, he bandaged my wound. The girl on the side looked like she was also badly frightened and didn’t dare to speak. He lifted his eyes to look at me, residual anger still in his eyes, but he tried his best to lower his voice: “Didn’t I tell you not to come to the hospital?” “Thank God you’re okay today.” My heart felt terribly blocked. I didn’t respond to his words, coldly thanked him, then stood up and walked out. He reached out and blocked my way, his tone firm: “I’ll take you home.” For the next few days, Caleb would come and change my dressing before I went to work, until my wound was completely healed. Every day before he left, he instructed me: “Don’t come looking for me at the hospital anymore. If something happens, call me.” I wouldn’t go. I would never go again. To avoid seeing them and feeling sad. I didn’t ask him directly about the house either. I didn’t want to hear the heart-piercing result again. The facts had already proven it, hadn’t they? There was no need to go humiliate myself again. As adults, a breakup should be decent.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “414038”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The heir to the Sterling empire once grounded an entire international flight just to stop me from leaving. I was the girl who disappeared for three years, carrying his unborn child into the shadows. We eventually married. It felt like a fairy tale. But nine years later, a younger, more vibrant woman appeared by his side. She is bold and adventurous, accompanying him on every high-stakes thrill I am now too “boring” for. I have become a mere housewife, a woman whose world revolves around monitoring my daughter’s sugar intake. Xavier looked at me with cold disappointment and said: “Evelyn, you’ve lost your spark. You’re not the woman I fell in love with.” Even my daughter looked at me with disdain: “Auntie Sierra is smart, beautiful, and runs her own company. You? You just live off Dad.” The next day, I took my social security card and signed the divorce papers. They seemed to have forgotten. The twenty-two-year-old Evelyn once jumped from a cliff into the freezing Atlantic just to be free. The thirty-five-year-old Evelyn still has the courage to start over from nothing. 01 Riverbend was once a thriving industrial hub near New York City, but now it was just another decaying rust-belt town. I pushed open the glass door of a small tech firm. The receptionist was glued to her phone, the volume turned up high. “…In major New York socialite news, the ‘Prince of Wall Street,’ Xavier Sterling, has officially filed for divorce! This story is straight out of a movie. His ex-wife was a nobody from the Midwest. Their marriage was a whirlwind of ‘he-chased-she-ran’ drama that captivated the tabloids for a decade. Rumor has it that the infamous grounding of Flight U8420 years ago was Xavier’s way of stopping her from escaping! But now, it’s over. I guess marrying into that kind of old money is like swallowing needles. Class barriers are real, folks.” The girl was so engrossed she didn’t notice me. I stood there, listening to the three-minute summary of my own life. It felt like watching a stranger’s biography. She finally looked up, startled, and scrambled to mute the video. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you here for the internship?” “No,” I said calmly. “I have a ten o’clock interview with Mr. Miller for the Lead Algorithm Engineer position.” The girl blinked. “Oh, right! Please fill out this form.” She glanced at the video on her phone, then back at me, her eyes bright. “Mr. Miller mentioned you went to MIT. Did you ever run in the same circles as the Sterling family? I wonder what the ‘Sterling Princess’ was actually like. I think her name was… was…” I had been “Mrs. Sterling” for so long that I had almost forgotten I had a name of my own. I gave her a small smile. “Evelyn. Evelyn Vance.” “Right! Evelyn Vance!” The girl sighed dreamily. “To capture a man like Xavier Sterling, she must have been a legendary beauty.” A legendary beauty? I felt a ghost of a smirk touch my lips. Only last week, my daughter had pointed at my waist and told me I was getting soft, nothing like the fit, toned socialites her father spent time with. “Ma’am? Is the form ready? I’ll take it to the hiring manager.” I handed her the clipboard. “Great. This way, Ms… Ms. Vance.” She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as if she’d seen a ghost. 02 The interview went perfectly. Mr. Miller looked at my resume with genuine awe. “State valedictorian, First in class at MIT Computer Science, three lead-author papers in top-tier journals… Ms. Vance, your credentials are breathtaking. My only question is: why did you stop working immediately after graduation?” I gripped the hem of my slacks, my voice low but steady. “To raise my daughter.” I had gotten pregnant accidentally at twenty-two. Xavier’s mother, the matriarch of the Sterling family, despised me. In her world, Xavier was meant to marry a European heiress, not a scholarship girl from a broken home. She used brutal tactics to drive me away. I still remember her—red lips, cold eyes, a line of silent security guards behind her. The sky was black. The ocean was a churning abyss. I jumped from that cliff in Rhode Island to escape them. Back then, everyone thought I was dead. Perhaps the fall damaged my body, because when my daughter was born, she was incredibly fragile. She had severe allergies and couldn’t tolerate formula. Her little face would swell up, and she would cry through the night. I was a shell of a woman, a weakened mother navigating the terrors of a high-needs newborn alone. Mr. Miller nodded, understanding. “Ms. Vance, you’ve been out of the industry for a long time. I can only offer you an entry-level associate position to start. Is that acceptable?” I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” He stood up and shook my hand. “Then welcome to the team.” As I took his hand, my heart raced. It was the same thumping rhythm I felt the day I got my acceptance letter to MIT. This was it. My second step toward life. 03 The next morning, I walked into the office, only to find Mr. Miller looking at me with profound guilt. “I’m so sorry, Evelyn. The offer… it’s been rescinded.” I froze. “Why?” He swallowed hard and pointed toward the corner office. “We were just acquired. The new CEO… he said he didn’t approve of your hire.” I turned my head. The sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a golden glow over the man sitting in the leather executive chair. He was tall, wearing a bespoke charcoal suit. His legs were crossed, revealing expensive silk socks. The chair swiveled slowly. Straight nose, thin lips, a razor-sharp jawline. His only accessory was an eight-figure watch on his wrist. He radiated the kind of power that didn’t need to be announced. Xavier Sterling suppressed his rage, his voice a low growl. “Evelyn, haven’t you had enough of this game? Our daughter is waiting for you at home.” He looked around at the yellowing walls and the cheap water cooler of the office, a sneer touching his lips. “What were you planning to make here? Six grand a month? I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for these tantrums.” I looked at this man—the man I had been entangled with since I was twenty—and I suddenly wanted to laugh. “What would I go back for, Xavier?” I asked softly. “To help your mistress through her pregnancy? I’m not that desperate.” Xavier rubbed his temples. “How many times do I have to tell you? I was drunk that night. I don’t even remember it.” The sound of clicking heels echoed in the hallway. The door creaked open, and a woman in nude stilettos stepped in. Sierra White was dressed in a chic professional suit, her porcelain legs visible beneath a slate-grey skirt. Her hair fell in long, perfect waves. Her stomach was slightly rounded, yet she still looked runway-ready. She placed a file on Xavier’s desk, her voice soft and melodic. “Mr. Sterling, here is the final acquisition contract for your review.” It felt like a sledgehammer to my chest. I took a deep breath, forcing back the sting in my eyes, and looked at him coldly. “You’re not very creative, are you? Stalking your ex-wife while bringing your pregnant mistress along for the ride.” Xavier frowned, his impatience flaring. “Sierra isn’t like that. She’s my Chief of Staff. Who else would I bring to a merger meeting?” He glanced at me, his eyes mocking. “Oh, I forgot. You’ve never actually worked. You wouldn’t understand professional life.” Every word was a knife. I felt like a wet rag was being pressed against my heart. The eighteen-year-old Evelyn was a valedictorian with the world at her feet. There was a banner with my name on it at my high school. Everyone knew who I was. The people in my small town cheered for me: “That Vance girl is going to be a titan of industry!” The twenty-two-year-old Evelyn was the President of the Student Union. I represented my university at international conferences in Vienna. I spoke fluent German and English, standing tall in grand halls with absolute confidence. Underclassmen would point at me and whisper: “Look, that’s Evelyn. She’s a legend.” How did the thirty-five-year-old Evelyn end up as this? Sierra turned to me, her young, beautiful face full of feigned sympathy. “Evelyn, please don’t blame Xavier. The night of the company gala… we were both very drunk. I was going to handle it quietly, but Xavier’s mother found out. She took me for an ultrasound. It’s a boy. That’s the only reason I’m keeping him.” She stroked her stomach, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips. “You know how much the Matriarch wants a male heir for the Sterling name. You couldn’t give them one. Xavier has been protecting you from his mother’s pressure for years.” A wave of utter absurdity washed over me. I gripped my throat, the phantom sensation of seawater filling my lungs returning to me. I began to laugh—a sharp, bitter sound. “Why I didn’t have another child? That old woman knows exactly why. I told you, Xavier. Scarlett is my only child. I am done being a Sterling incubator.” “Have it your way.” Xavier stood up. At six-foot-two, he towered over me. His shadow swallowed me whole. His face was as grim as the rain outside. “In your twenties, this behavior was charming. A little ‘will-they-won’t-they’ to keep things spicy. In your thirties, it’s not cute anymore. It’s just stupid.” He leaned in, his voice cold. “Think long and hard, Evelyn. You have no resources of your own.” 04 Over the next week, I applied to eight different firms. Without exception, Xavier blocked every single one. I was specialized in high-end tech, and the Sterling family owned the infrastructure of the industry. He put out the word: any company that hired me would be blacklisted from the National Tech Summit next year. The doors slammed shut. HR managers who had been excited to talk to an MIT grad hung up the moment they saw the name “Evelyn Vance.” Xavier called me, his tone leisurely. “Running out of cash yet? Come home, apologize to my mother, and you can still be the Lady of Sterling Manor.” I clenched my fists so hard my nails drew blood in my palms. “Never.” After we married, Xavier gave me a black card with no limit. I could buy diamonds, designer bags, and luxury cars with a swipe. But I couldn’t withdraw a single cent of cash. That marriage, that family… it was a gilded cage. Beautiful, solid, and envied by the world. But I was suffocating inside. The next day, I stood in front of a blue-collar staffing agency. “Thirty an hour. Ten-hour shifts. Paid daily. You go where the clients need you—mostly residential cleaning.” A woman with tight curls looked me up and down, unimpressed. “You look like an academic. Can you actually handle manual labor?” I took the uniform. “Don’t underestimate me. I’m a fast learner.” My parents died when I was thirteen. To survive, to keep myself in school, I had waitressed in diners, scrubbed cars at a local garage, and folded clothes at a mall. When I first got with Xavier, people told me: “Evelyn, you don’t belong in his world.” I knew. He went on safaris in Africa and watched the Northern Lights in private villas. Everywhere he went, the world cleared a path for him. And me? Before I was eighteen, I had never even left my county. Twelve years of marriage made me believe I was walking side-by-side with him. I thought our story was like a romance novel with a ‘happily ever after.’ But the story ended, and life kept going. Life is about the mundane. It’s about the power dynamics created by class. It’s the subtle arrogance of the rich and the loss of voice for the poor. It’s like a fine layer of sand between us. At first, it’s just a minor irritation on the skin. But over time, those tiny grains become a constant, grinding torture. You can’t see them, you can’t count them, and you can’t wash them away. I changed into the cleaning uniform, looking in the mirror at the bare-faced woman without jewelry. She once wore the finest Chanel and held champagne flutes at galas. Lady of the Manor or cleaning lady—it didn’t matter. A person has to survive before they can talk about dignity. 05 In my second week, I was assigned to a high-end art gallery. There was a private exhibition that day, and the gallery requested extra staff. Working with me was a scrawny boy. His skin was tanned, he was thin and looked undernourished, but his eyes were incredibly dark and bright. Like stars. I asked, “How old are you?” “Sixteen.” I chuckled. “No way. My daughter is twelve, and you don’t look much older than her. Thirteen, tops.” The boy looked at me in a panic. “Please don’t report me. I really need this job.” I shook my head gently. “I won’t.” I knew what it was like to be thirteen and desperate. The boy relaxed and gave me a shy, toothy grin. For the next two hours, he followed me around. He had the endless energy of a growing kid. “That bucket is too heavy, let me carry it.” “I’ll hold the ladder, don’t fall.” I handed him a napkin. “Wipe your forehead. What’s your name?” “Parker.” Parker smiled at me, then tilted his head, looking at me closely. “Ma’am… is something wrong with your left eye? You don’t seem to see things on that side.” I paused. “How did you notice?” All these years, even my husband and daughter hadn’t noticed. The boy gestured to the gap between me and the canvas I was dusting. “Your depth perception is off when you look that way. Is it from a sickness?” I shook my head. “No. A gunshot wound. I was saving my ex-husband and my daughter.” The boy’s eyes went wide. “Wow. They must be so grateful.” I tried to smile, but my lips felt heavy. I probably just looked like I was grimacing. “They don’t even remember it happened.” I touched the prosthetic eye on my left side, a wave of bitterness washing over me. The two people who should have been closest to me were entirely oblivious to the scars on my heart and the scars on my body. “Don’t cry, Ma’am.” Parker stood in front of me, using his small, dusty hand to wipe a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. Did I… cry? Parker puffed out his cheeks. “They’re just blind! They’re the ones in the wrong! From now on, I’ll help you carry things. I’ll be your left eye. If anyone tries to bully you, I’ll fight them for you!” His innocent, sincere words warmed a cold corner of my heart. My lips finally curled into a real smile. “Okay, it’s a deal. From now on, Parker is my eyes. Pinky swear?” The boy laughed, his dark face lighting up, and hooked his pinky with mine. “Pinky swear! Locked and sealed for a hundred years!” 06 The gallery wasn’t open to the public yet. Only a few VVIPs with special invitations were allowed in early. Parker and I were carefully wiping the dust off the ornate frames. From the distance, a soft, familiar voice drifted over: “Scarlett, look at this. This is a Tobias original. If you like it, I’ll buy it for you as an early birthday gift, okay?” The name hit me like a physical blow. I froze. I saw her. My daughter, Scarlett Sterling. Scarlett was wearing a designer silk dress, her tulle skirts blooming like a flower. In her hair was an eight-carat diamond clip. She was walking arm-in-arm with Sierra, looking closer than ever. “Thanks, Auntie Sierra. But we already have three of his pieces at the townhouse. I want to see something more realistic today.” Next to her were three or four kids her age—the children of New York’s elite. Sierra looked up and caught my eye. She didn’t look surprised; she looked like she had planned this. She raised her voice, pointing at the wall right behind me. “Scarlett, what do you think of that painting?” My heart leaped into my throat. Instinctively, I wanted to cover my face. I was never ashamed of hard work, but in front of Scarlett and her friends, I wanted to keep one last shred of dignity. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me. Don’t let my daughter see her mother like this. The universe didn’t hear my prayer. Like a slow-motion scene in a movie, Scarlett turned her head. Sierra covered her mouth, her expression a caricature of surprise. “Oh my god, Scarlett! That cleaning lady looks exactly like your mother!” Scarlett’s gaze swept over my uniform, my bucket, and the rag in my hand. She didn’t hesitate for a single second. She turned away. “That’s not my mom,” she said flatly. “I told you guys. My mom is dead.” The words exploded in my ears like a thunderclap. My vision blurred. I nearly collapsed. My hand caught the sharp edge of a metal display rack, and I felt a hot sting as blood began to bloom across my palm. Sierra laughed. She pinched Scarlett’s cheek affectionately. “Well then, what kind of new mom does little Scarlett want?” Scarlett hugged Sierra, leaning her head against her chest, her voice sweet and clingy. “I want a mom like you, Auntie Sierra! Smart, beautiful, and someone who actually does things instead of just watching me all day.” It felt like a hand had reached into my chest and was squeezing my heart into pulp. The pain was so intense I didn’t even feel the blood dripping from my hand. I was the one who carried her for ten months. I was the one who spent twenty-four hours in labor, screaming in pain to bring her into the world. I was the one who nursed her until my skin cracked, feeding her with my own blood and milk. I was the one who spent years without a full night’s sleep, humming lullabies until my voice went hoarse. And she wished I were dead. She was calling another woman “Mom.” Suddenly, a dark little blur streak past me. Parker lunged in front of Scarlett. He shoved her back and shouted at the top of his lungs: “Your mom is standing right here! Are you blind?!” 07 Chaos erupted. Blood was pooling on the floor from my hand. Parker and Scarlett were on the ground after the shove. Sierra was clutching her stomach, slowly sinking to the floor in a “faint.” The sirens of the ambulance, the screams of the socialites, the frantic footsteps—it all blurred together. When I finally came to, I was in a hospital. Everyone was hovering over Sierra. My hand had stopped bleeding on its own, leaving a crusty, dark mess of blood across my palm and wrist. No one had treated it. Xavier stormed into the hallway, still in his suit, his face a mask of fury. He didn’t even check to see if I was okay before he started shouting. “Evelyn! What the hell are you doing?! Do you want the whole city to know Scarlett has a mother who scrubs toilets? How is she supposed to show her face to her friends?! And that brat you were with… he lunged at Sierra. Sierra is pregnant! She’s fragile! She fainted from the shock. When she wakes up, you are going to apologize to her. And then this is over.” Me? Apologize to Sierra? The absurdity was so great that I actually started laughing. Xavier hissed, “What are you laughing at?” I held up my blood-stained hand in front of his face. “Maybe you should open your eyes, Xavier. Your mistress isn’t the only one who got hurt today.” Xavier went silent for a moment. “I’ll call a nurse.” “Don’t bother,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “The CEO is a busy man. By the time you remember I exist, I’ll have probably bled out.” Xavier rubbed his brow, looking exhausted. “At least go see Scarlett.” I was silent for a moment. I didn’t want to see Scarlett. I wanted my pendant back. The jadeite pendant my mother gave me. 08 I was thirteen when my mother got sick. She lay in that hospital bed, her eyes sunken, her skeletal hand over mine. “Evelyn, baby… I don’t think I have much time left.” Her shaky, jaundiced hand reached behind her neck and unclipped a red silk cord. On it was a simple green teardrop pendant. It was smooth and cool to the touch, radiating a quiet, peaceful glow. She tied it around my neck with trembling fingers. “This was your grandmother’s. It’s for protection. I’m giving it to you, Evelyn. I don’t pray for you to be rich or powerful. I just want you to be safe. To be at peace.” There was such profound sorrow in her eyes—the grief of a mother who knew she was leaving her child alone. “I haven’t done enough for you. I’m so sorry you had to suffer. Evelyn… from now on, you have to walk the road alone.” I gripped her hand, sobbing her name, but she was already fading. She went from a healthy woman to a shadow, and finally, she was just a small urn. I held that urn against my cheek, trying to find the warmth of her hug. “Mom…” “Mom.” “MOM!” But no one would ever answer that call again. That pendant became my most sacred possession. I wore it every second for over ten years. Until Scarlett was born. When Xavier’s mother forced me off that cliff, I was four months pregnant. The impact, the terror, the freezing Atlantic… it was too much. I was rescued, and after three months of bed rest in a hidden clinic, Scarlett was born premature. She was so tiny. So blue. She was in the NICU, fighting for every breath. I gripped that pendant until it cut into my palm, kneeling outside the glass, praying over and over: If there is a God, please. Please save my daughter. I’ll give up my years, my happiness, my soul—just let her live. The white walls of a hospital hear more sincere prayers than any church. Three months later, Scarlett was out of danger. I looked at her sleeping face, tears streaming down my cheeks, and tied the pendant around her neck. It was my life. Half of it stayed with me; the greater half went to my daughter.

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Transported back to age eighteen, I was forced to drop out of school and ended up tightening screws in a factory.In the middle of the noisy factory floor, the owner’s son stood with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He looked around with a reckless, arrogant smirk. “I’m starting my own tech company,” he announced. “Who’s crazy enough to come with me?” Dead silence. Then, one hand went up. Mine. My coworkers said my brain was fried. My cousin laughed at my delusions. My parents screamed that I just needed to shut up and keep screwing bolts for minimum wage. I just smiled. They didn’t know anything. Twenty years later, that arrogant guy would be sitting at the top of the Forbes billionaire list. 1 I was eighteen again, and I had just been handed my expulsion papers. In our cramped living room, my father’s roaring voice was deafening. “Stealing from other students! You’ve completely dragged our family name through the mud!” My mother chimed in, equally furious. “You couldn’t just go to school and be normal? Look at your cousin Emily. Thank God she put in a good word for you, or you’d be sitting in a jail cell right now!” The memories of my past life rushed back. I had been framed for theft by a classmate. The teachers didn’t care about the truth; they pinned it on me and dragged me to the principal’s office. The school was having a crackdown on stealing, and the principal wanted to make an example out of me. He threatened to call the cops. That was when my cousin, Emily Carter, stepped in with tears in her eyes, begging for mercy on my behalf. In the end, the principal let it go—on the condition that I voluntarily withdraw from the school. Back then, I treated Emily like my savior. It wasn’t until years later, when I was working a dead-end retail job and ran into an old classmate, that I found out the truth: the entire setup was orchestrated by Emily from the start. Seeing me space out, my dad raised his hand. I didn’t dodge. I took the heavy slap straight across the face. My whole body ached. This wasn’t the first time they had hit me today. “Pack your bags and get out tomorrow morning!” my dad yelled. “Whether you live or die out there is your own damn problem!” I nodded, silently turning and walking back to my “room.” It was barely a room—just a tiny, partitioned closet next to the kitchen. The light was dim. I had zero privacy. Right on the other side of the thin wall was my brother Kyle’s room. He had a massive bed and, a true luxury for a working-class family in the late 90s, a brand-new desktop computer. A birthday gift from our parents. Sitting on my cot, the reality of my rebirth finally washed over me. In my past life, I always thought that if I could just go back in time, I’d fight tooth and nail to prove my innocence and stay in high school. But the damage was already done. Right now, I had no money, no power, and no way to fight back against awful people. But that was fine. School wasn’t the only way out. Early the next morning, I left “home.” I had one duffel bag and twenty bucks I had scraped together. I hopped on a Greyhound bus heading straight for the industrial side of the city. In my previous life, after I was expelled, I was weak and defeated. My parents beat me and berated me daily until they got sick of looking at me and found me a job. Emily’s mother, my Aunt Susan, worked as an accountant at a local manufacturing plant. She dragged me in to be a factory girl, screwing bolts on the assembly line all day with room and board included. That soul-crushing, repetitive, dirt-cheap labor stole four years of my youth. This time, I didn’t wait for her introduction. I went straight to the factory myself. Following behind the floor manager, I pulled on a pair of work gloves, grabbed my tools, and walked onto the familiar, deafening assembly floor. Because in this life, I had a very specific target. “Damn it, who the hell stepped on me?!” The low, annoyed growl made me jump. I quickly pulled my foot back. I had left a dusty boot print right on top of a perfectly shined leather shoe. I followed the shoe up to the face, and my breath hitched. The young man had frosted blonde tips, a dragon tattoo winding down his forearm, and a furious scowl on his face. He looked like a thug. But I wasn’t scared. I had seen him in financial magazines, wearing tailored suits, his eyes sharp and his smile warm. The contrast with the guy standing in front of me was jarring. “Boss,” the manager said, turning to me nervously. “She’s new… apologize, now!” I looked right into his eyes. “Sorry.” He stared back. After a few seconds of dead silence, he asked, “You aren’t scared of me?” I shook my head. “Interesting.” Caleb Vance ran his tongue over his teeth. “Little factory girl, you’d do well to stay out of my way.” He turned on his heel to leave. “I’m not a factory girl,” I called out to his arrogant back. “My name is Chloe.” 2 Working the line was brutal. Two days in, I had three massive blisters on my hands. Worse, Aunt Susan spotted me. She put on a fake, overly warm smile. “Well, look who it is! Your parents didn’t even tell me you came down here. You should have said something, sweetie, I could have found you a decent position.” I sneered internally. Wasn’t this the exact “decent position” you threw me into in my last life? But I kept my face blank. “I wouldn’t want to bother you, Aunt Susan. We can catch up later.” I didn’t expect to see Emily the very next day. “Chloe! Where have you been hiding? I was so worried about you.” She grabbed my hands. Her fake sincerity was even more polished than her mother’s. I really couldn’t blame my past self for not seeing through her. “Screwing bolts,” I said flatly. “Oh, I really don’t know much about that… I just came to share some good news! I scored in the top thirty on the state mock exams. My guidance counselor says if I keep this up, I’m guaranteed a spot at a top-tier university!” She came all the way to the factory just to rub this in my face. How “sweet.” “Is that so?” I smiled faintly. “Have you figured out your major yet? If you pick the wrong one, even a fancy degree won’t get you a good job.” Emily bristled. “That’s impossible!” “Why is it impossible?” I shot back. “Look at Mr. Henderson from our neighborhood. He went to a big state school, and now he’s running a dusty corner store. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up—” “It’s still better than being a factory rat!” Wow, the mask slipped fast. Her face turned ugly. She paused, threw down a sharp “I have to go,” and spun around to storm off. “Damn it!” That familiar low growl echoed. I looked up to see Emily had crashed right into someone’s chest. She stumbled back. “S-sorry…” Caleb stood there, looking absolutely murderous. Emily squeaked in terror and practically jogged away. Caleb crossed his arms, tilting his head to look at me. “You know about college majors?” “A little.” He seemed amused. “Alright then. What major guarantees a good job?” “Computer Science.” It was the late 90s. The internet boom was just a faint rumble in the distance, but Caleb would be diving into the tech world very soon. His eyes lit up. But he quickly masked it with a lazy smirk. “The little factory girl has some vision.” I looked at him squarely. “My name is Chloe.” He chuckled. The fierce, thuggish aura melted away instantly, leaving something much softer. “Got it, little factory girl.” He stared at me, his eyes brimming with amusement. He was definitely teasing me. Suddenly, he reached out and flicked me right on the forehead. “I’m Caleb.” 3 After that, whenever I had free time, I found myself looking for Caleb around the plant. I vaguely remembered from my past life that Caleb had left the factory to start a business not long after I arrived. He had tried to recruit from the floor, but because he looked like a gangster and acted like a slacker, nobody wanted to follow him. But I knew that the handful of outsiders he eventually hired ended up incredibly wealthy. Reborn, I didn’t care about becoming a billionaire. I just wanted to catch the wind of the era so I wouldn’t have to scrape by in my middle age. After watching him, I realized Caleb wasn’t the deadbeat he pretended to be. Most of the time, he was sitting in front of a heavy CRT monitor, reading thick books and typing lines of code. The factory workers didn’t know anything about computers; they all assumed he was playing video games. People loved to gossip with me. “Don’t let Caleb’s attitude fool you. He acts tough, but when his older brother comes back from studying abroad, Marcus is taking over the company. Caleb will be left with nothing.” It was true. Caleb had an older brother. In my past life, everyone—myself included—thought Caleb was going to end up a tragic washout. But I knew better now. “No,” I argued back. “He’s going to be untouchable.” One night after my shift, I intentionally dragged my feet, taking the long way around past Caleb’s office. The light was still on. He was typing away. I watched for a moment, then turned to leave. Suddenly, footsteps echoed behind me. “Hey.” I froze. In the dim hallway, Caleb was leaning lazily against the wall, head tilted. “The dorms are the other way. You don’t need to pass through here.” Caught in the act, I panicked. I dropped my gaze, scrambling for an excuse. Caleb walked toward me, stopping when he was dangerously close. I could smell a clean, masculine scent mixed with faint tobacco. I instinctively looked up. His eyes were smiling. His handsome face was relaxed, completely free of the aggression he wore during the day. In the low light, he suddenly leaned down, his lips hovering right next to my ear. “This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you sneaking around, kid,” he whispered. His voice was husky, a low vibration in his chest. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on me.” 4 I stumbled back. “N-no. I don’t.” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with mischief. I awkwardly looked away. “I was just curious about what you were doing…” “Is that right?” He stood up straight. “And did you figure it out?” I shook my head. He smiled again. For some reason, he seemed to smile a lot tonight. He jutted his chin toward his office. “Well, I guess I’ll be generous. Come on in.” I obediently followed him. The monitor was glowing, surrounded by stacks of programming textbooks. “What kind of books are these?” I asked, playing dumb. Honestly, I was genuinely curious. With Caleb’s intelligence, he could have easily gone to a top university. There was no reason for him to stay stuck in a factory teaching himself, letting everyone look down on him. He leaned against the desk, picking up one of the books. “If you went to college for Computer Science, this is the stuff they’d make you read.” I stared at him. He let out a soft scoff. “You used to be a straight-A student, didn’t you?” I blinked, surprised. “Yeah.” “So why’d you quit?” I bit my lip. I hadn’t planned on hiding it. After a moment of silence, I told him everything—the framing, the expulsion, the betrayal. He didn’t get dramatically angry. He didn’t demand I go fight for my honor or seek revenge. He just listened quietly. He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. Then he let out a low, self-deprecating laugh. “When no one believes you, everything you say is wrong.” The warm yellow bulb overhead flickered. Caleb leaned by the window, the shadows hiding his expression. I really wanted to say something. Something like, I believe you. Or, When are you starting your company? Can you take me with you? Before I could speak, he crushed his cigarette in an ashtray. The arrogant, reckless aura snapped back into place. “Little factory girl,” he said, looking at me. “I’m giving you half the day off tomorrow. You’re coming with me.” I opened my mouth to correct him about my name, but he cut me off. For the first time, he used my real name. “Chloe.” Even though his face looked impatient and awkward, I found it kind of endearing. Even without knowing where we were going, I smiled. “Okay.” 5 It was almost lights-out by the time I got back to the dorm. Jessica Miller, the girl on the bottom bunk, suddenly spoke up. “Where were you?” “Just walking around.” She was a few years older than me, an assembly line veteran. She had a massive ego and almost never spoke to me. She paused for a few seconds. “Why do I keep seeing you sneaking around the boss’s office?” I froze. I refused to give her anything. “You must have seen wrong.” “You better hope I did.” Jessica snapped her bed curtains shut. After the lights went out, her words echoed in my head. In my past life, I hadn’t interacted with her much, so I didn’t understand what her problem was until I was drifting off to sleep. Then it hit me. When Caleb’s older brother, Marcus, came back from overseas, Jessica wasted no time hooking up with him and moving out of the dorms. Everyone thought she was going to marry him, but even up until I left the factory, they were just messing around. Later, I heard Marcus married a wealthy executive’s daughter but kept Jessica on the side. Eventually, the rich wife found out. She forgave her husband, but absolutely destroyed Jessica’s life… Thinking of that, I understood why she hated me. She probably thought we were the same kind of people. She saw me as competition for the Vance family fortune. So now, she was taking every opportunity to tear me down. But I didn’t feel the need to jump out of bed and defend myself. Caleb was right. When no one believes you, everything you say is wrong. I was going to leave this place soon anyway. My history with these people would end here. I rolled over. The girls on the bottom bunk suddenly went quiet. I sneered internally and closed my eyes. 6 The next day, I only worked a half shift. Caleb must have tipped off the foreman, because the second I asked for leave, he waved me off. I hadn’t brought many clothes from home. I stripped off my greasy uniform and threw on a simple cotton dress. Walking out of the factory gates, I spotted Caleb waiting in the distance. He was dressed sharp today—a green bomber jacket, dark jeans, his frosted hair styled. He looked like a movie star. Seeing me, he paused, looking me up and down with a roguish grin. “Well, look at you. Playing the schoolgirl today?” I nervously twisted the hem of my dress. He stomped out his cigarette. “Let’s go.” We got on a city bus. It was mostly empty. He sat one row behind me, leaning across the aisle. I stared out the window, keeping quiet. About twenty minutes later, Caleb draped his arm over the back of my seat. “Kid.” I looked back. He was squinting, wearing that same dangerous look from the hallway last night. “Aren’t you going to ask where I’m taking you?” I kept a straight face. “Where are we going?” He leaned closer. I caught the faint smell of tobacco. His husky voice was right next to my ear. “A motel.” My brain short-circuited. My first reaction was No way. But then I remembered how unhinged and unpredictable he acted. Would he actually… “We’re here.” His eyes were crinkling with suppressed laughter. I shot up out of my seat and looked out the window. It was early summer. The breeze rustled through the lush green trees lining the street. We weren’t at a motel. We were standing in front of the grand iron gates of the state’s most prestigious university. 7 I never expected Caleb to bring me to a college campus. Stepping off the bus, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked forward like he owned the place. The security guard at the gate took one look at him and clearly decided he didn’t belong. He stepped in Caleb’s way. Caleb casually pulled something out of his pocket. The guard checked it, nodded, and waved him through. Caleb looked back, signaling me to follow. The guard didn’t even look at me. “What did you just show him?” I asked. He tossed it to me. “A student ID?” I stared at the plastic card. It had his photo and his name. I was stunned. “You’re a student here?!” “Kid, don’t be so gullible.” He smirked. “I paid a guy ten bucks under an overpass to print that.” “…” Fine. Caleb clearly knew his way around. He led me through a maze of pathways and into a massive brick building. Just as he was about to push open a set of double doors, I grabbed his arm. “We’re going in there?” He nodded. Seeing my hesitation, he smiled. “Aren’t you curious what a real college lecture looks like?” Of course I was. Whether in my past life or this one, I had never set foot inside a university. I took a deep breath and followed him in. College in the 90s wasn’t exactly high-tech. The wooden desks, the chalkboards, the faded posters on the walls—it felt vintage. But to me, it was bright, expansive, and brimming with the hopeful energy of youth. No one paid attention to us. Everyone was doing their own thing. It was an atmosphere of open-minded freedom I had never experienced. Even when the professor walked in, I was still stuck in a daze. That was when I noticed Caleb pulling a book out of his bag. It was the exact same textbook the other students had on their desks. The same book he kept in his factory office. So what he was studying every day… was the actual university curriculum? For the next hour, aside from the professor’s opening joke, I didn’t understand a single word. Caleb, on the other hand, was dead focused. It was a rare look of total seriousness. The sunlight caught the edge of his desk. In that moment, he seemed to be glowing. When class ended, I followed him out. “So…” I couldn’t help but ask. “You’re just… crashing their classes?” Caleb looked back at me. “Kid, don’t make it sound so cheap,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I had to buy a lot of beers to get these guys to let me copy their syllabuses.” Honestly, I didn’t like it when he called me ‘kid’. It made me feel like just another naive girl in his orbit. I lowered my head and walked silently ahead of him. “What’s wrong?” He caught up effortlessly, his tone casual. “You don’t look too thrilled, ki—” “My name is Chloe.” I stopped and looked up at him. He froze. Then, he smiled. He smiled a lot around me, but this was the first time it looked genuine. Not teasing. Not a smirk. Just a real smile. “My mistake.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, would you do me the honor of grabbing some dinner?” He paused, his lips curving up. “Chloe.” 8 We ate in the city and caught the last bus back to the factory. I knew absolutely nothing about computers, but I shamelessly asked to borrow his textbooks. If he was going to conquer the internet boom, I wanted to build my own value so I could ride the wave with him. Caleb looked amused, tossing me a couple of thick manuals. “These are just the basics, but they’re dense. Don’t come crying to me when your brain hurts.” I rolled my eyes. Whether he was calling me “factory girl” or “kid,” this guy still treated me like a child. But regardless, we were getting close. After that, whenever I wasn’t on the clock, I found a quiet corner to read, and whenever I had a chance, I used the computer in his office. Even though it was just basic programming, every little step of progress made me incredibly happy. But inevitably, rumors about me and Caleb started spreading through the factory. The first time I heard them was in my own dorm. I had terrible cramps that day and called out sick, lying curled up in my bunk. My roommates came back. Thinking the room was empty, they sat down and started gossiping. The topic bounced around the factory before landing on me. “Has Chloe been spending a lot of time with the boss lately?” someone asked. “A blind man could see it,” Jessica Miller scoffed. “I called her out on it and she played dumb.” “What’s her endgame?” another girl asked. “The factory owner hates him. Once his brother comes back, Caleb is nothing. With that slacker attitude, what kind of future does he have?” Jessica laughed coldly. “Who knows? She probably doesn’t know the inside scoop. Just a pathetic girl trying to marry rich.” I stared at the ceiling, listening to them tear us down. I didn’t jump down and yell at them. Caleb was right. When no one believes you, everything you say is wrong. I’d be leaving this place soon enough. I rolled over, making the mattress creak. The voices below instantly vanished. I smirked in the dark and went back to sleep.

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[Breaking: Rumor has it the CEO’s daughter is doing an undercover internship in our department!!!] The message popped up in our department’s Slack channel. I watched as my true identity was supposedly “exposed.” Then, Harper Sterling replied in the chat, dripping with fake humility: “Since I’m undercover, I really just want to keep a low profile and prove my own abilities. Let’s all just focus on our work, okay? Instantly, my coworkers—including my own boyfriend—started kissing up to her. Me, the actual CEO’s daughter: … 1 Every year before the company’s Winter Holiday Gala, employee bonuses included limited-edition blind box figures. Right before the holidays, our department’s group chat was buzzing with speculation about this year’s theme. Mid-conversation, Harper dropped a photo into the chat: “This year’s theme is The Olympian Gods. Don’t leak this to anyone outside the department, guys!” I stared at the screen, stunned. That kind of internal mock-up was restricted to the executive admin team. Harper was just an accounting intern like me. How did she get it? Britney Hayes was the first to reply: “OMG! Only top-floor executives get intel like this early! Harper, confess! How long is a billionaire heiress like you planning to play undercover with us peasants?” “Holy crap, so the rumors about the CEO’s daughter interning here are true?!” “The signs were all there! Harper’s last name is Sterling, and our CEO is Mr. Sterling!” “I knew Harper was built different. That canvas tote bag she carries every day? It looks so chic, totally not something us corporate slaves could afford.” I glanced at the plain, unbranded canvas bag on Harper’s desk. We had a dozen of those at my house—they were complimentary dust bags from luxury boutiques that our maids used to carry groceries. The coworkers were blowing this way out of proportion. I figured Harper would step up and clarify the misunderstanding. After all, the Sterling family had produced nothing but boys for three generations. I was my dad’s only precious daughter. Besides me, there was absolutely no other “CEO’s daughter” in this company. My dad adored my mom. When I was born, my mom insisted I take her maiden name, Bennett. My dad agreed without a second thought. So, I was Chloe Bennett. Sure enough, Harper replied a minute later. However, her response was: “Since it’s an undercover stint, I just want to keep a low profile and prove my worth. Let’s not discuss this anymore, guys. Let’s just do our jobs! Me: … Talk about gaslighting. That non-denial was practically a megaphone. As soon as she sent that, the chat went wild. Coworker A: “Princess! I really want the Athena figure! Mercury is in retrograde and my luck is awful. Could you pull some strings and get me one? I’ll carry your bags for a month! puppy dog eyes” Coworker B: “Princess Harper! I want one too! I’ll buy your coffee every day!” Britney: “Back off, guys! Princess Harper, I want the whole Olympian set! Hahahaha!” “I’d die for the full set! Princess, I will be your loyal servant for life!” I read the messages and held back a laugh, assuming Harper wouldn’t dare respond. My dad’s corporation was massive, and the rules were incredibly strict. The whole point of the blind boxes was for employees to enjoy the thrill of the draw. Because of that, even family members like me didn’t get special privileges to bypass the system, let alone a mere intern. But Harper responded, shattering my expectations of just how bottomless her vanity was. “Alright,” she typed. “I’ll see what I can do. But just for you guys! The company rules are super strict, so keep it on the down-low.” I actually laughed out loud. She knew the rules were strict, yet she still made a promise she couldn’t keep. People calling her “Heiress” and “Princess” had clearly made her delusional. Sitting across from me, Harper looked up, a smug smile on her face. “Chloe, do you want a figure too?” I smiled back. “Can you really get company blind boxes early?” Britney’s sharp voice cut in. “Chloe, what kind of question is that? Are you doubting the CEO’s daughter? Typical try-hard charity case. You got a scholarship out of the boondocks and think you’re hot stuff, but you’ll never understand the superiority of someone born in Rome. Princess Harper, ignore her. Let’s go get lunch.” Harper didn’t address me or my question. Instead, she picked up a stack of files, looking distressed. “But the Director told me to organize these spreadsheets by noon, and I’m only half done…” Britney snatched the files and slammed them down on my desk. “Chloe, finish organizing these for Harper.” I tossed them right back at her. “Do your own work.” Britney threw them back at me, barking a command. “Harper is the Princess of this company! Don’t you try-hards love showing off? Letting you do the Princess’s work is doing you a favor. Got it?” I threw the files back one last time, muttered “Psychopath,” and stood up to leave for my lunch break. Britney shrieked behind me. “Don’t be an ungrateful bitch, Chloe! You think passing a few exams makes you special? Harper’s family owns this place! One word to her dad, and your chances of a full-time offer are dead!” I could have died laughing. The only one dreaming here was Harper. I was in a rush to meet my boyfriend for lunch and couldn’t be bothered to argue. I walked out, hearing several coworkers swarming Harper to brown-nose her, eagerly volunteering to do her spreadsheets. 2 My boyfriend, Derek Vance, and I had just sat down at a nice Italian place downstairs. Suddenly, Britney and a cluster of coworkers walked in, surrounding Harper like she was Beyoncé. Derek, who was usually indifferent to other women, suddenly stood up. He walked over to an empty table near us, pulled out a chair, and gave Harper a warm, charming smile. “Harper, there are empty seats here. You guys can sit.” Harper smiled sweetly at him. “Thank you, Derek.” Derek’s smile grew even softer. “Anytime.” I sat there, dumbfounded, staring at him. He hadn’t pulled my chair out for me when we arrived. Derek sat back down, leaned over the table, and whispered, “Harper is the CEO’s daughter.” I frowned. “So what?” Word traveled fast. Within a single morning, even Derek in the Engineering department knew. “She’s a big deal,” Derek said defensively. “If I get on her good side, it benefits both of us.” He then shot me a look of annoyance. “You shared a dorm with Harper for three years in college. How did you never tell me something this huge?” I was getting annoyed. “Even if she was the CEO’s daughter, what difference would it make?” Just then, the garlic butter shrimp Harper ordered arrived at her table. Derek stood up again. He leaned in, gritted his teeth, and whispered to me, “You are so dense it’s actually painful.” Then, abandoning his actual girlfriend, he scurried over to their table and started peeling shrimp for Harper. I swallowed my anger and called his name twice. He ignored me. Harper spoke up, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Thank you, Derek. But Chloe looks really mad. I know it’s no big deal that you’re helping me, but if she throws a tantrum, you’ll have to be the one to coax her. I don’t want you to get tired because of me. You should go back.” Derek wanted to stay, but a few male coworkers, eager to suck up to the “heiress,” aggressively nudged him out of the way. When Derek returned to our table, he glared at me like he wanted to stab me. I let out a cold laugh. “Derek, did you ever stop to think that if she isn’t the CEO’s daughter, your pathetic, gold-digging brown-nosing today is going to look incredibly embarrassing?” Derek’s face darkened. “I’m a gold-digger? You think I’m embarrassing? The only embarrassing one here is you! You’re dead broke, yet you strut around carrying a fake fifty-thousand-dollar Hermès Birkin! God knows what shady things you did to get that knockoff!” For safety reasons, I usually wore unbranded custom clothing and bags made by my family’s private designers. But one morning, I was running late for a major college lecture, panicked, and grabbed a custom, logo-less Hermès bag my mom had casually bought at a Paris runway show and left on the sofa. I didn’t expect Derek to recognize the silhouette. So his whole “I don’t care about material things” persona was a complete act. My affection and respect for him plummeted to absolute zero. I stood up with a cold face and left. I had completely lost my appetite. I had originally thought he was a talented engineer and was planning to recommend him to my dad for a promotion. Now, I realized that was entirely unnecessary. 3 Derek called me. Thinking he wanted to apologize, I answered. He didn’t apologize. Instead, he asked to borrow money. I hung up immediately. After work, he was waiting for me outside the office building. He pulled me into a quiet corner. The six-foot-tall man slumped his shoulders, looking pathetic. “It’s a family emergency. I really need $15,000 right now.” I shot back, “You’re friends with the ‘CEO’s daughter’ now. Go borrow it from her.” Derek looked even more pitiful. “Chloe, why can’t you understand me? Do you think I wanted to suck up to Harper? I did it for our future! If we make friends with the CEO’s daughter, wouldn’t our lives at the company be so much easier? Chloe, you’re the only one who can help me. If you don’t… my mom is screwed. If you don’t have the cash, that fake Hermès bag you have… give it to me. I can sell it, it should cover the cost…” I had met Derek’s mother. She was a hardworking, kind country woman. I had a good impression of her, and it was her kindness that had initially made me think highly of Derek. Hearing it was a medical emergency for his mom, I didn’t think twice. I told him he didn’t need to sell my bag, I would get the cash. I transferred him the $15,000. A day later, I got a call from one of my wealthy socialite friends. She said she saw my handsome boyfriend at an exclusive boutique buying a limited-edition designer dress. When buying it, he told the sales associate it was an anniversary gift for his girlfriend. It cost $12,000. My friend snapped a photo of the dress and sent it to me. She could tell I had no idea, so she said enviously, “Tsk, couldn’t tell your stoic little boyfriend was such a romantic! He bought your exact size. Just play dumb and get ready for the surprise!” I honestly didn’t know how to describe what I was feeling. Derek was usually incredibly stingy. Spending $12,000 was astronomical for him. I never imagined he would use his mother’s fake “medical emergency” to borrow $15,000 from me, just to buy a $12,000 dress. However, when our anniversary actually arrived, Derek didn’t even give me a greeting card. Instead, I saw the $12,000 limited-edition dress on Harper. 4 I shoved the photo my friend took directly into Derek’s face. “Is this what you meant by your mother having an emergency and needing cash?!” Derek turned beet red and stammered, “Harper… she thinks highly of me. She invited me to the movies the other night. I wanted to give her a gift in return. She’s rich, so she definitely wouldn’t care about a cheap gift… That’s why I borrowed the money from you…” I never expected that Harper, aside from being vain and manipulative, was also top-tier at stealing other people’s boyfriends behind their backs. I sneered. “So to you, the CEO’s daughter is your mother now? By that logic, Derek, don’t you have too many ‘mothers’ to keep track of?” “Chloe, that’s enough!” Derek roared, cutting me off. “We’re breaking up.” My heart stung for a second. It hurt a little. But I didn’t let it hurt for long. I was glad I discovered his true colors before revealing my real identity. I clenched my fists and looked him dead in the eye. “Fine. We’re done. I hope you never regret this. And even if you do, don’t you dare come crawling back to me begging for another chance!” “Look at your attitude! A woman should either have money or be submissive! You? You’re dead broke, and your personality is like a brick wall! Let me tell you, no man could stand your foul temper! I was blind to be with you, but now my vision is restored. Don’t even talk about this lifetime, I wouldn’t regret dumping you in eight lifetimes!” “Great. Please remember what you said today. Also, give me back the $15,000 you borrowed.” To a scumbag like him, giving him a single cent felt like an insult to my money. “You want to talk about money?!” He threw a small notebook at me. “Pay me back for all of this first!” I caught it and flipped through. Inside were line-by-line records of every single expense from our dates over the past few months. When my shoelace broke on the street and he bought me a two-dollar replacement, he logged it. Every meal, every cup of coffee—nothing was missed. The grand total was $200. The spare change on a single pen I had gifted him cost more than that, yet he logged every penny. I laughed out of sheer anger. “Fine. Deduct the $200 from the $15,000 you owe me. But the gifts I gave you—the designer belts, the fountain pens, the tailored shirts—you return all of them.” Derek scoffed disdainfully. “Those fake knockoffs? I threw them all in the trash the night Harper and I went to the movies.” “Then pay me back for their value. I have the receipts for everything. I’ll send them to you, and you will write me an IOU.” For once, Derek was eager about money. “Fine, I’ll write it! The cost of a single bag from my Harper’s closet will cover it. Don’t try to forge the receipts, I’ll have them verified.” Just a minute ago it was “Harper,” now it was “his Harper.” Pathetic. 5 I don’t know what methods she used, but Harper actually managed to get a set of the Olympian Gods figures. After that, her status in the department skyrocketed. An intern who hadn’t even been at the company for long suddenly received a private office—a perk reserved only for senior accountants. Brand new office supplies, a top-tier computer setup, you name it. Her desk was piled high with expensive lattes and snacks bought by our coworkers. Correspondingly, because I refused to worship her, I became the perfect target for contrast. I was relocated to a desk right next to the bathrooms. All the most tedious, awful tasks were dumped on me. In the breakroom, I accidentally overheard the gossip. This was all the “hard work” of VP Marcus Thorne. Britney looked at me, bossing me around arrogantly. “Chloe, go brew a cup of coffee for Harper. Make sure it’s pour-over. Harper is doing you a favor by specifically asking for you to make it.” “Where did this rat turd come from? Do you have a death wish? How dare you order our Chlo—” That arrogant voice belonged to my third brother, Luke Sterling. I acted fast, slapping a hand over his mouth and dragging him out of the breakroom. My dad named him Luke to be a beacon of light for the company. But aside from business, Luke was a master at partying and goofing off. Because of that, my dad “exiled” him to our department to do grunt work and gain some grounded experience alongside me. Everyone in our family spoiled me to death. Luke was no exception. Hearing me being ordered around, he looked ready to commit murder. But I had my own plans. I wanted to use this opportunity to smoke out all the rats in the company and genuinely do something useful for my dad’s business. Seeing my determination, Luke was moved. He agreed to team up with me to catch the rats. Luke asked about my boyfriend, mentioning that our second brother, Leo, was having a concert soon. He handed me three VIP tickets so I could take my boyfriend. I casually shoved the tickets into my pocket. Before I could tell Luke I had dumped the cheating loser, Britney followed us out, demanding I go make Harper’s coffee. Luke stepped right in front of her. At over six-foot-two, with a furious scowl, he looked terrifying. Britney glared at me but didn’t dare push it. She went to make the coffee herself. Barely a few steps away, she suddenly let out a deafening, groundhog-like shriek. “AHHHHHH! TICKETS TO LEO STERLING’S CONCERT!” Everyone turned to look. A few nearby coworkers ran over to see the tickets in her hand. Britney ignored them, sprinting straight into Harper’s office and giving her a massive bear hug. “Princess Harper! These Leo Sterling tickets must have dropped from your pocket, right?! You’re the CEO’s daughter, Leo Sterling is your actual biological brother, right?! There are two tickets—can I please have one?! I’m his biggest fan! Take me with you, and I will be your literal slave for life!” Harper only froze for a single second before her calm, arrogant facade returned. She smoothly took the two tickets Britney had “found.” “Sure, we can go together. It’s perfect since there are two tickets.” Watching this absurd play unfold, I blinked and reached into my pocket. That’s when I realized the concert tickets my brother had just given me were gone. I started walking straight toward Harper and Britney. 6 Luke followed right behind me. “I’m right here. You don’t even need to lift a finger. Just say the word, and I’ll wipe these rats off the face of the earth.” I held back my impulsive brother and gave him a specific instruction. “You got it.” Luke went off to do as I asked. Harper’s office was packed. Britney and several other coworkers were squeezed inside, all lured in by the holy grail of tickets to the global pop star’s sold-out concert. I walked into the office and asked her, “Harper, how do you know these tickets are yours?” Before Harper could answer, her loyal foot soldier, Britney, fired back. “Duh! If they aren’t Harper’s, are they yours, Chloe?!” Following her mockery, a few people chuckled. I raised an eyebrow and replied calmly, “Yes. They’re mine.” The office fell dead silent for three seconds. Then Britney burst into hysterical laughter. “Yours?! Hahaha! Chloe, has Princess Harper’s natural superiority finally driven you insane? A broke intern claims that VIP tickets to Leo Sterling—which cost over a thousand bucks each—are hers?” Harper smiled tactfully, but her words were far more vicious. “Chloe, it’s normal to want to see my brother Leo’s concert. But how can you claim things that aren’t yours? I think your obsession with Leo is making you delusional. Do you want me to recommend a good psychiatrist?” I didn’t waste any more breath on them. I called Luke to bring the evidence over. There was a security camera right outside the breakroom in the hallway. I had sent Luke to pull the security footage. Luke was ruthless. He wheeled in a projector and cast the security footage onto the large white wall in the accounting office. On the screen, it clearly showed the tickets falling out of my pocket, and Britney picking them up. The entire sequence was crystal clear. The laughter in the office died. Coworkers began whispering. “Holy crap, they really are Chloe’s.” “But Britney swore they were Harper’s?” “Yeah, and when Chloe asked Harper, Harper didn’t even deny it. She acted exactly like they were hers.” “The CEO’s daughter tried to steal an intern’s concert tickets? What the hell?” … Harper’s face was completely blank. She gripped the tickets so tightly her knuckles turned white, looking like she wanted to crush them into dust. Britney’s expression was the definition of mortification. She stood frozen for a moment, then turned to look at Harper. Harboring a bit of resentment, yet too afraid to be too aggressive, Britney asked carefully, “Harper… are these tickets… not yours?” Harper turned her head away, shifting the blame onto her. “When did I ever say the ones you picked up were mine?” Britney: “But…” Harper smoothly downplayed it: “I do have tickets, but I put them in my bag. You brought these over, and I just assumed they were the ones I dropped. It was just a misunderstanding.” Luke scoffed. “A misunderstanding? Alright, you said your tickets are in your bag. Take them out right now and show everyone, prove your innocence.” All eyes in the office locked onto Harper. 7 Harper began pretending to rummage through her bag, furrowing her perfectly manicured brows. “Looks like I left them at home. It’s just a concert. If I want to go, it’s just a matter of making one phone call.” Seeing the lingering doubt in everyone’s eyes, Harper smiled softly. “Whoever wants to go, just let me know. I’ll take you all backstage when the time comes.” Britney was the first to hug her and squeal. “AHHHH! I want to go! I knew I couldn’t be wrong! It’s Princess Harper’s own brother’s concert, she doesn’t even need tickets to get in!” Several other coworkers who desperately wanted to go instantly switched back to smiling faces, begging to be taken along. Harper agreed to all of them. No one questioned her anymore; the room erupted in cheers. People are basically like this—in the face of benefits and perks, right and wrong become irrelevant. Harper looked at me, her eyes full of provocation. “Like I said, it was a misunderstanding. For something like this, I have absolutely no reason to lie. You, on the other hand, Chloe… are you doing this on purpose because you think Derek broke up with you for me? Let me clarify, Derek and I are nothing but friends. But honestly, we’re all adults here. Your jealousy is so petty. No wonder Derek doesn’t like you anymore.” Derek’s furious voice suddenly rang out from behind me. “Chloe, are you psycho?! What does our breakup have to do with Harper? What right do you have to target her?!” I didn’t even know when Derek had arrived. He was holding a massive bouquet of fresh red roses. My eyes stung for a brief second. I said coldly, “Who is ‘our’? Remember, you are you, and I am me. Stop flattering yourself.” I didn’t forget to snatch my tickets back from Harper’s tight grip. I chuckled. “Alright, since you’re so capable, I’ll see you at the concert.” Last time, her loyal “grandson” bought her that limited-edition dress. I couldn’t wait to see which of her loyal “grandsons” was going to miraculously conjure up sold-out VIP concert tickets for her this time. Derek’s sudden appearance in our department was to celebrate Harper getting her own private office. He had come specifically to gift her the flowers. Luke looked at Derek, realizing something belatedly. He asked me, “Is this that—” Although I had broken up with Derek before getting the chance to introduce him to my family, I had shown them a photo of him when he first started pursuing me. I said briefly, “We broke up. He’s currently busy licking the boots of the ‘CEO’s daughter’ in there.” Luke’s mouth twitched. “He has zero taste.” I had already moved on and shrugged indifferently. “Everyone meets a few scumbags when they’re young.” Luke wanted to punch him. I held him back. The person this scumbag wanted to suck up to was the CEO’s daughter. Harper was a fake. It wouldn’t be long before her true colors were exposed. When that time came, the scumbag would realize that being a gold-digging bootlicker leaves you with absolutely nothing. There was no need for my brother to dirty his hands. 8 The concert started at 8 PM. Luke and I planned to head straight there after clocking out. My eldest brother, Liam, had called. He organized a fleet of cars to escort me to the concert. Liam loved cars. He managed auto-investments and was a race car driver himself. His private garage in the city alone held over a hundred luxury vehicles. The convoy he arranged to escort me consisted of eight cars and ten bodyguards. The bodyguards were handpicked by my parents from a top-tier private security firm. Because it was my first time attending Leo’s concert, they were worried about the massive crowds and didn’t trust Leo or Luke to protect me properly. That evening, waiting at the elevators, Luke and I bumped into Harper, Britney, Derek, and their entourage. Britney, acting like a human megaphone, intentionally raised her voice to show off. “Listen up, guys! Princess Harper’s dad sent a luxury convoy to pick us up! They’re all top-tier luxury cars worth millions! Unlike some people who maxed out their credit cards just to buy a ticket to show off, and will spend the next few months paying off loans. Forget a taxi, they’ll probably have to borrow money just to ride the smelly bus! Hahaha!” She stared straight at me, sneering. “Some people need to learn that getting good grades in school is useless. First of all, you need self-awareness. You need to recognize your status and fix your attitude. Otherwise, you deserve to eat dirt and be poor for the rest of your life.” I chuckled. “You definitely have self-awareness. You’ve positioned your status perfectly—especially how flawlessly you play the role of a groveling lapdog.” Luke gave me a thumbs up. We walked over to take a different elevator. Behind us, a slow-to-react Britney shrieked, “Who are you calling a lapdog?!” Derek, who previously complained to me that Britney was like a rabid dog that bit everyone, was now actually comforting her. “Britney, don’t stoop to Chloe’s level. She’s jealous of Harper. She’s so insanely jealous she’s acting like a porcupine, trying to stab anyone she sees.” Harper’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “People like porcupines are so scary. I’m so glad you broke up with her, Derek.” Heh. I was the one who was glad! 9 Luke and I reached the ground floor. Harper’s group had arrived just before us. Led by Harper, the group of coworkers was crowded around a line of eight top-tier luxury cars, screaming in excitement. The fleet was led by a Rolls-Royce Phantom, followed by Bentleys, Ferraris, Maybachs, and Lamborghinis. It was basically a high-end auto show. Harper, Britney, and Derek were worshippers of vanity; of course they recognized the cars. No wonder they were going crazy. Harper’s eyes were practically glowing, but she tried hard to maintain a reserved, elegant posture. “These are just the everyday cars my family uses. Sit wherever you want, guys. Get in.” Derek was flushed with excitement. Using a tone reserved for worshipping deities, he asked Harper carefully, “Harper, can I ride in the same car as you? I want to stay by your side every second, to watch over you and protect you.” “Mhm, okay. Thank you, Derek. You’re so sweet.” Harper and Derek walked toward the extended Rolls-Royce at the front. Derek played the gentleman, reaching out to open the door for her. Before his hand even touched the handle, the driver and the bodyguard in the passenger seat stepped out simultaneously and blocked him. “Who are you?” Derek awkwardly pulled his hand back, revealing Harper behind him. Harper swayed her hips, stepped forward, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and commanded arrogantly, “My brother sent you, right? I’m Harper Sterling. Open the door for me. Oh, and these are my coworkers going to the concert with me. Tell the drivers in the back to open their doors too. My coworkers need to get in.” The driver and the bodyguard exchanged glances, completely baffled. The drivers and bodyguards from the seven cars behind them also stepped out. Soon, their Captain spotted me and immediately marched over with large strides, preparing to respectfully greet me. Luke and I simultaneously raised a hand to stop him. We wanted to watch the show. Harper was already throwing a tantrum. “Hey! I told you to open the doors, are you deaf?! Where are you going?! I didn’t say those two could ride in my cars!” The drivers and bodyguards were all bewildered. I nudged Luke, signaling it was his turn to take the stage. Luke caught on, strolled over, looked down at Harper, and spoke with supreme arrogance. “These cars—” Harper cut him off immediately. “What? You want to hitch a ride too? Sorry, step aside. There are no seats for you in my cars!” Luke let out a cold laugh. “Get the fuck out of here with your fake flexing. You’re the one who needs to step aside. Every single one of these cars belongs to my family.” Harper turned to look at him, sneering. “You? Hah! An intern? You think you’re worthy?” She turned back to yell at the driver. “Hurry up and open the door, didn’t you hear me?! If my brother finds out you disrespected me like this, you’ll all be fired!” No one paid her any attention. “Harper Sterling, right? Open your blind eyes and look closely.” Luke raised a hand in a signal. Instantly, the driver pulled open the rear door of the Rolls-Royce and bowed respectfully. “Young Master Luke, please get in.” Harper: “…” Britney, Derek, and the crowd of coworkers: “???” Luke: “See clearly now? If you see clearly, then get the hell out of my way!” Harper was in disbelief. She didn’t even care about the humiliation. She grabbed her phone and ran to a secluded corner to make a call. I followed her quietly and turned on my phone’s voice recorder. I heard her call the person on the other end “Kevin” and ask about the cars. I couldn’t hear what the other person said. Harper’s voice suddenly grew loud. “You didn’t send cars?! What am I supposed to do if you don’t send cars?! I already promised my coworkers!” “You can’t get a Rolls-Royce? Then rent me a few Bentleys, Maybachs, or sports cars! Hurry up, okay?! If you don’t, I’m going to be completely humiliated, Kevin!” “No sports cars either?! Then… then a Mercedes or a BMW! …Still no?! Then what am I supposed to do?! Kevin, you HAVE to get them here. If you don’t, and I lose face, I can’t guarantee I won’t leak all your dirty secrets onto the company portal!” After Harper’s desperate threats, the voice on the other end of the phone suddenly boomed so loudly I could hear it. “You little bitch, you dare threaten me?! Do you have any idea how much money and how many favors it cost me to get you those tickets from the Second Young Master’s team?! I paid a hundred times the premium just to secure one ticket, and now you want me to get you ten luxury cars?! Luxury my ass! You want to ruin me?! Fine! Go ahead and post it! If I get ruined at the company, you’re going down with me, you stupid bitch!” The man hung up. Harper was trembling with rage. I sent the recording to my dad’s assistant for investigation…

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After graduation, the senior I had a crush on got married. However, I heard he wasn’t very happy. His wife cheated on him with a toy boy, and they are currently discussing divorce. I was hesitating whether to take the initiative to comfort him, but I never expected him to come find me first. “Sign the divorce agreement. I get custody of the child.” I was stunned. The person he married… couldn’t possibly be me, right? 01 Three years after graduation, while dining at a restaurant with a friend, I unexpectedly ran into Caleb. He hadn’t changed at all, still as handsome as ever. Caleb stood at the restroom entrance, and beside him stood a little munchkin who looked exactly like him. It seemed the two were waiting for someone. He was already married? I had liked him for seven years, and now, running into him again, he was already a father. Suppressing the sourness in my heart, I took the initiative to greet him: “Senior, what a coincidence. Is this your little one? So cute.” Saying that, I crouched down: “Sweetie, call me Auntie.” The next second, Caleb bent down and picked up the little munchkin, his voice as if dipped in ice. “Miss Smith, you really are good at switching roles. One second you’re asking for a divorce, and the next you don’t even recognize your own son.” I stared at the little munchkin lying on Caleb’s chest, blinking his big eyes at me, completely stunned. What did he mean by that? What did this little munchkin… have to do with me? At this moment, I realized the environment around me seemed a little different. I didn’t come to a Mexican restaurant, it had now become… a Thai restaurant. Also, where did the friend I was eating with go?! My eyes gradually filled with horror as I grabbed Caleb’s arm. “Senior, your name is Caleb Wright, right? Graduated from Johns Hopkins Medical School in 2019, correct?” Caleb looked at me as if looking at a psychopath, completely ignored me, and turned to walk away with the little munchkin in his arms. The little munchkin was quite cooperative, waving at me and saying in a milky voice: “Bye-bye, Mommy.” 02 It sounds absurd. I went to the restroom after a meal, and somehow accomplished the two major life events of marriage and having a child. If I wasn’t crazy, then it was highly likely Caleb was. “Senior, wait a moment.” I grabbed Caleb. His gaze swept over the hand holding him, freezing cold. I was so scared I quickly let go. “Senior, although I don’t know where the problem lies, I truly don’t know anything right now, I…” “Are you trying to say you have amnesia?” Amnesia? That wasn’t impossible. I nodded vigorously. Caleb’s smile turned cold. He handed me the manila envelope in his hand: “Inside is the divorce agreement. Go back and review the terms. If you have no objections, sign it.” I opened my mouth but was completely unable to find the words to reply. Finally, I could only squeeze out: “It’s not good to talk about this in front of the child. How about we talk later?” “When you brought a man home, why didn’t you think it was bad in front of the child?” This sentence exploded in my head like a thunderbolt. I looked at the little bean in disbelief, attempting to find the correct answer from a child. Unfortunately, the little munchkin completely ignored me, resting on Caleb’s shoulder, looking pitiful. The amount of information was too much. I crashed. 03 It took me about a whole day to figure out my current situation. I seemed to have accidentally entered a parallel universe. Here, I was still me. Caleb was still Caleb. The only difference was, we were married. And had a baby. But obviously, there was a problem with our current marriage. I seemed to have… cheated. But where the “me” of this universe went, whether we accidentally swapped places in the restroom, I had absolutely no way of knowing. “Mommy.” A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. The door opened a sliver, and a small head peeked in: “Daddy says he needs to use the study.” I reached out and called the little munchkin in. The boy hesitated outside the door for a moment before shyly running in. I held him on my lap and observed him carefully. His eyes and brows resembled Caleb’s, but his face shape was like mine. This was my and Caleb’s son. Unable to control the satisfaction in my heart, I kissed the little munchkin’s cheek hard. As a result, this kid’s face flushed red instantly. He flailed a couple of times in my arms, then quieted down, whispering: “Mommy smells nice.” What kind of angelic baby was this? I was holding the little munchkin and was just about to say something when the door was pushed open from the outside again. A tall figure immediately filled the entire door frame. “Daddy!” The little munchkin immediately broke free from me, ran to Caleb, and hugged his thigh. Caleb had already taken a shower. His hair was still damp, water droplets trailing down his neck into his collar, then disappearing. The person I liked was right in front of me. My heart beat wildly. However, Caleb’s next words shattered my fantasy. “Miss Smith, don’t you think it’s a bit late to relive maternal affection now?” “I wasn’t, I…” Now it seemed whatever I said would be wrong. Finally, I simply gave up. “Never mind, you work first. I’m going to take a shower.” When I walked out the door, the little munchkin glanced at me, but he still clung to Caleb. I felt slightly disappointed. It seemed that besides my husband not loving me, my son didn’t love me either. I couldn’t help but wonder, why did we get married in the first place, and why did we have a child? The moon outside still hung high in the sky, the cicadas deep in the branches screamed themselves hoarse. Everything seemed unchanged. Yet everything had changed. 04 The master bedroom only had one large bed. The monotonous gray bedsheets were so smooth there wasn’t a single wrinkle. The clothes in the walk-in closet were sorted sequentially from dark to light. The entire room had the word “boring” written all over it. Except, I rummaged through all the cabinets and surprisingly didn’t find any of my clothes. Forced by circumstance, I knocked on the study door. “Seni… Husband, sorry to bother you for a second.” Caleb looked up. The gold-rimmed glasses on his face hadn’t been taken off yet, giving him an air of ascetic refinement. “Could you tell me where my pajamas are? The walk-in closet seems to only have your clothes.” Caleb stared at me for a few seconds. Just when I thought he wouldn’t tell me, he suddenly got up and walked towards me. Stopping at a distance less than a fist away from me, the corners of his mouth lifted: “Amnesia, huh?” For a moment, I honestly didn’t know which was more convincing: amnesia or a parallel universe. Fortunately, Caleb didn’t press the issue, turned, and went out the door. I stood frozen in place, at a loss for what to do. He glanced at me: “Not coming?” Was he leading the way? “Th-thanks.” However, a minute later, when I opened the closet door, I immediately slammed it shut. My face flushed bright red. “These are mine…” Caleb crossed his arms, leaning against the bedroom door looking at me, a hint of a mocking smile on his lips. An expression of “keep acting.” I swallowed my question, opened the closet door again. The sheer scale of the clothes inside made me think I had entered the dressing room for an adult film. I mean, in this universe, was I really… that OPEN?! I tried my best to ignore Caleb’s gaze. I dug around for a long time but couldn’t pick out a single decent piece of clothing. Finally, not knowing what I was thinking, I turned my head and asked the man watching the show: “Husband, which one… do you like?” Then, I distinctly felt Caleb’s eyes darken. He didn’t answer me, turned his head, and walked out. The door was slammed shut with a bang. Did that make him angry? I couldn’t help but guess, could the reason we were getting a divorce be because of an unharmonious sex life? After taking a shower, I went to the little munchkin’s room. He was already asleep, clutching a small doll in his arms. I took out the hand he had in his mouth and tucked the little guy in. For the first time, I felt the realness of being a mother. It was embarrassing to say, but up until now, I didn’t even know what this child’s name was or how old he was. I had looked at my marriage certificate with Caleb; the date was three years ago. So the little munchkin should be about two years old. After staying for a while, I gently closed the door and had just walked out when I unsuspectingly bumped into a man’s chest. I was so startled I almost screamed. Looking up, it was actually Caleb. I still couldn’t adapt well to the fact that I was married to my crush. After all, the person I had always looked up to was now standing right in front of me, within arm’s reach. My heart was beating unreasonably fast. “Done?” “Yeah.” I didn’t know what to say: “Then… sleep?” Caleb didn’t move. I wrapped the coat I had draped over myself tighter, trying to keep the excessively revealing sleepwear inside from showing: “I’ll go in first.” Saying that, I walked into the master bedroom. Not knowing which side Caleb usually slept on, I casually lay down, pulled the covers over myself, and lay there properly. A moment later, Caleb walked in. Seeing me, his footsteps paused, and he stared straight at me. I felt numb from being stared at. “Which side are you used to sleeping on?” He stopped talking again. Why did I feel that in this space, apart from the huge change in “my” personality, the senior’s personality had also changed significantly? I simply sat up: “Then you pick first, okay?” Why so petty? This time Caleb moved. He lay down on the other side. I breathed a sigh of relief and lay back down too. The night was quiet. The curtains in the room blocked the light well, plunging the entire room into pitch darkness where you couldn’t see your fingers. My mind was a mess, and I couldn’t sleep at all. I was already agitated, and the coat digging into my back made it hurt. Feeling the breathing beside me gradually even out, I quietly lifted my body and began to take off the clothes. I successfully took off the coat, dropped it on the floor, and was still rejoicing that the person next to me hadn’t been woken up when suddenly, my entire body was pinned down. The sleeping person had woken up at some point, leaning over to look at me. The tip of my nose could even feel his breath. “Senior, you’re not asleep?” I was so scared I forgot to call him “Husband.” “What exactly do you want to do?” “Huh?” “You proposed the marriage, you proposed the divorce, and now you’re seducing me in the dark. What else do you want to do? Just say it.” “Se… seducing?” My eyes widened. I suddenly felt a breeze on my chest. I had forgotten how “revealing” the clothes I was wearing were. Thank goodness the darkness hid my blushing face. “I didn’t want to, sor… sorry.” Saying that, my hands frantically reached down, trying to retrieve the clothes. The more anxious I got, the clumsier I was, and I accidentally pushed the clothes further away. I was terrified Caleb would hate me. My voice was already choked with tears. Finally, Caleb was the first to pull away from me. He sat straight up, his voice freezing cold. “Stella, I don’t care what tricks you’re playing, I’m not falling for them anymore. I hope you return to normal tomorrow. Don’t play the amnesia card again, it’s boring.” “Tonight I’m going to Miles’s room. Do as you please.” Caleb left. I realized belatedly. So my son’s name was Miles. 05 Sleepless all night. I stared blankly until dawn. Around seven o’clock, I heard washing sounds outside, and the sound of Caleb talking with someone. She must be the nanny hired to take care of Miles. After a while, the door opened and closed. Caleb left. I lay on the bed thinking about life. I had always been dull when it came to relationships between men and women, otherwise I wouldn’t have liked Caleb for so many years without daring to confess. I always fantasized about becoming Caleb’s wife, thinking I would definitely treat him very, very well. But facts proved that low EQ is low EQ. Even though I possessed this marriage, it was still a complete mess. As my thoughts ran wild, the bedroom door was suddenly opened. A chubby auntie appeared at the door, hastily apologizing: “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be inside.” “It’s okay, I was about to get up anyway.” The auntie breathed a sigh of relief and walked in: “I thought you were resting in your own room. When Mr. Wright left just now, he didn’t mention you were resting in his room.” My own room? I suddenly remembered the guest bedroom Caleb took me to yesterday to find clothes. It seemed there was indeed a bed inside. Could it be that all along we were… sleeping in separate rooms?! No wonder he insisted I was seducing him yesterday. I covered my face and wailed twice. Miles must have heard my voice, as he ran over barefoot with a “pitter-patter,” standing timidly at the door, not daring to come in. “Miles.” I called out tentatively, then beckoned him with my hand. The little guy seemed to receive some kind of permission, charging in like a little firecracker, instantly rolling onto my bed, revealing three teeth: “Mommy!” Two dark eyes like black grapes were shining brightly. My heart melted looking at him. Regardless of my relationship with Caleb, I wanted to treat Miles as well as possible. I greeted the nanny and took him to the mall. On one hand, I planned to buy him some toys, and on the other, I wanted to buy myself a couple of pieces of clothing. The “my” fashion taste in this universe was so trendy I really couldn’t handle it. Along the way, I subtly asked Miles what his mommy was like before. The little kid thought for a long time before shaking his head and saying: “She ignored Miles.” Then he added softly: “Fierce.” Kids don’t lie. If it was really like this, then the difference between the me of the two universes was too big. Not only in fashion taste, but also in every other aspect. I couldn’t help but wonder, why did Caleb marry me? Did he just like me this way? His tastes were quite hardcore! “Mommy, I want to eat that.” Suddenly, the little guy next to me tugged at my hem. I looked over and sure enough, it was McDonald’s, which every kid can’t resist. Miles looked at me, his eyes radiating a Shin-chan-like gleam. I: “…Buy!” However, half an hour later, Miles and I were sitting with our heads bowed in front of Caleb’s office, like two egregious sinners. And the “culprit” was the unopened box of Chicken McNuggets and fries in the bag. 06 The origin was that after I bought the McDonald’s for Miles, the kid wanted to share it with his dad. The hospital Caleb worked at was nearby. I figured this could be an opportunity to repair our marital relationship, so I took the little guy to the clinic. I never expected that when this man saw the things in my hand, his brows would furrow so tightly they could wrap around the earth. He opened his mouth and asked: “Why would you buy Miles this kind of junk food?” I was dumbfounded and quickly tried to cover up: “I bought it for myself, not for Miles.” “So you think there’s no problem if you eat it yourself?” Caleb’s brows furrowed so tightly they could knit a sweater on the spot. “Fried food causes the body’s pH value to drop rapidly, creating an acidic constitution. A normal person’s body fluid pH is between 7.35 and 7.45, but if it drops to 6.8, cancer cells will spread rapidly.” I didn’t understand: “So?” “The risk of cancer will increase.” My brain did a 180-degree turn before realizing he seemed to be caring about me. That was quite subtle. Miles was unhappy, clenching his little fists: “I wanted to buy it for Mommy! Daddy, meanie!” After he said that, Caleb laughed. A barely visible dimple rippled at the corner of his mouth. This was the first time I saw Caleb smile since I accidentally entered this universe. He flicked Miles’s forehead: “A meal of McDonald’s bought you over?” Then he looked at me: “I still have some work for now. You guys go wait for me in the break room inside.” He glanced at the McDonald’s bag again: “You’re only allowed to eat two pieces. Don’t let it happen again.” He didn’t kick me out, was this… a good sign? Breathing a sigh of relief: “Thank you, Senior!” After I finished speaking, Caleb’s expression seemed to daze for a moment before he gave an “Mhm” and lowered his eyes, avoiding my gaze. Just as Miles and I entered the break room, someone knocked on Caleb’s office door. “Do you have time now? I’ve been feeling unwell lately. Could you check my pulse?” Looking out through the crack in the door, the figure was somewhat familiar. It wasn’t until I heard her voice that I confirmed it was Audrey. At the time, Audrey and Caleb could be considered “prominent figures” at our school. Excellent looks, brilliant grades. Not just the medical school, they were the face of our entire university. But in my memory, Audrey was a very strong-willed person, and her relationship with Caleb wasn’t good at all, even having a bit of a tit-for-tat rivalry. Because she couldn’t stand the existence of someone better than her, and Caleb was a bit aloof, I rarely saw them in the same frame. But here, they were friends and worked at the same hospital? Caleb’s voice was clear and cold: “Deficient Qi and blood. Make sure to rest.” “How can I rest? There are so many surgeries lately, and the hospital is short-staffed.” Audrey complained coquettishly, pausing for a moment before saying: “I heard from your mom before that you’re preparing for a divorce? What’s going on between you and that junior… she is a junior, right?” I covered my mouth. Oh my god, why did her whiny tone reek so much of a two-faced manipulator? The seniors from the two universes were too different. Obviously, Caleb also caught the scent of her fakeness: “I didn’t know when you became so gossipy.” “After all, you suddenly announced your marriage before, scaring us all. When I was in school, I didn’t even notice that girl.” Audrey laughed dryly: “But I think it’s better to divorce early. You and her were never on the same path anyway. Your mom said she’s an influencer? How many decent people are in that industry? If not for yourself, consider Miles. Leading by example…” Before she could finish, Caleb’s fountain pen was placed heavily on his notebook: “Audrey, you’ve crossed the line.” Audrey stayed silent for two seconds, then apologized charmingly: “Sorry, I was just feeling it was unfair to you, thinking you deserve better.” “I know what’s good for me. From now on, I don’t want to hear anyone talking about my family in front of me.” “Okay.” Audrey stood up. “I bought some new clothes and pants for Miles. I’ll give them to you after work.” Audrey left, and the entire office grew quiet. Miles was still burying his head, eating hard, his hands and around his mouth covered in grease. Seeing I wasn’t moving, he very generously handed the half-bitten chicken nugget to me: “Mommy, eat.” “Miles, eat it yourself.” I had completely lost my appetite. Piecing together Audrey’s words, I roughly knew I seemed to be an influencer. Associating it with the clothes in the closet, I gasped. Saying I wasn’t on the same path as Caleb, saying my behavior brought bad influence to Miles, could it be that I was an… adult webcam model? Caleb was a traditional young doctor, and his wife was an adult webcam model? No wonder his mother despised me so much, no wonder we were getting a divorce. I started to feel uncertain. If I was really in this profession, then the “cheating” Caleb mentioned didn’t seem impossible. What should I do now? Continue to pretend I don’t know, or… “Stella.” Caleb’s voice disrupted my wild thoughts. I looked up and found Caleb had already taken off his white coat and was wearing casual private clothes. He looked exceptionally handsome. I finally reacted: “You’re off work?” “To be precise, I’ve been off work for 3 minutes and 20 seconds.” Caleb looked at me. “Which means, you spaced out for exactly 3 minutes and 20 seconds.” I blinked. My first reaction was, so the former top student and current social elite also counted the time exactly to get off work. I thought only losers like me did that. For some unknown reason, the distance between Caleb and me suddenly didn’t seem so far. 07 Caleb drove on the way back. Miles had a designated car seat. I hesitated back and forth for a long time, not knowing where it was appropriate for me to sit. If it had been the day before yesterday, I would have unhesitatingly sat in the passenger seat, but now I wasn’t sure. Finally, I sighed and still opened the back door. “Are you planning to treat me like a chauffeur?” Just as I was about to climb in, Caleb’s words floated over leisurely. I silently retracted my leg: “No, I was just… testing if the back door is easy to open.” Caleb glanced at me, evidently speechless at my brainless reply. Miles was exhausted from playing all day and fell asleep. Caleb and I were speechless all the way, and awkwardness spread in the space. After a long time, I finally spoke: “Senior, if I told you that I’m actually not me, but another person, would you believe it?” “You’re not you? Yesterday you said you had amnesia, and today you’re planning to claim you’ve been possessed?” I pursed my lips: “No, I’m saying, do you believe there are… parallel universes in this world?” After I finished, Caleb was silent for two seconds, then smiled: “If you can logically convince me, I’d be willing to cooperate and believe you.” I couldn’t explain it. “Never mind.” My shoulders slumped. After a long while, I spoke again: “Senior, why did you agree to marry me in the first place?” He clearly had better options, why did he agree to marry me? After a long time, so long I thought Caleb wouldn’t answer, he finally spoke: “Does asking this now still have any meaning?” My heart sank. Right, it had no meaning anymore. We were getting a divorce. As soon as we got home, Caleb went to the study, leaving Miles and me outside. I thought he probably wanted to avoid being alone with me. It wasn’t until night, after I washed up, that Caleb finally opened the study door. “Is Miles asleep?” “Mhm.” I held a bath towel, feeling a bit awkward. “You should rest early too. I’m going to sleep first.” Saying that, I walked towards the guest room, but was pulled back by Caleb: “Where are you going?” “The gue… guest room.” Caleb frowned: “We haven’t divorced yet, and Miss Smith already intends to sleep in separate beds from me?” “No, the nanny said we always…” “The nanny said? You don’t remember what it was like before yourself, and you had to ask the nanny?” This sentence completely confused me. I just didn’t know! But from Caleb’s meaning, did I misunderstand? Could it be we used to sleep together? So I silently rolled back to the master bedroom hugging my pillow. This was the second time I shared a bed with Caleb. I was so nervous I felt like I was going to throw up. The sound of running water came from the bathroom. The image of Caleb taking a shower involuntarily surfaced in my mind, and my cheeks gradually grew hot. This was deadly! I got up and planned to slip away. Just then, the bathroom door opened. As if on purpose, this man just tied a bath towel around his waist. He wasn’t wearing anything on top, and his firm abdominal muscles were faintly exposed. I swallowed hard, quickly lay back down, and covered my head with the quilt: “Sleepwalking!” A low chuckle came from outside, the sound making my face burn again. After a while, the mattress on the other side sank slightly. It must be Caleb lying down. “Sleeping with the covers over your head is bad for your health.” The quilt was suddenly lifted by Caleb. Before I could even react, I was already pulled into his arms: “Go to sleep.” My breathing stopped, my limbs went stiff. The distance between Caleb and me was so close I could even feel his heartbeat. “Just… sleep like this?” “Otherwise, what else do you want to do?” My whole body shuddered: “I’m already asleep.” Then I squeezed my eyes shut tight, not daring to move. I hadn’t slept at all the night before. After closing my eyes, I found I actually felt sleepy. There was a calming scent on Caleb. Gradually, my consciousness also began to slowly drift away. Before completely losing consciousness, my last thought was: This sleeping posture doesn’t feel like we’re getting a divorce…

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