Category: English

I’ve read countless romance novels about the “regretful ex crawling back,” but I never expected to become a character in one. Except, in my story, there was no “crawling back.” Only the ashes. Because I was truly dead. I became a ghost, tethered to the man who took me for granted. Seven days after my death, it was as if a delayed wave of grief had finally crushed him. In the home I could never return to, he howled, wept, and shattered into pieces. You ask how I felt? I just stood there, blankly, meticulously savoring every inch of agony on his face. I listened earnestly to his desperate, agonizing wails over my departure. Beneath the sorrow and heartbreak, a massive, twisted wave of schadenfreude surged within me. A joyful, ecstatic sense of vindication. It was a sharp, liberating thrill. I covered my mouth and laughed. 1 After I died, I became even more certain that Holden Crawford had never truly loved me. When the police called him to identify my body at the morgue, he thought I had teamed up with my friends to pull a sick prank. He thought it was just my way of forcing him to give me a way to step down from our fight. Because right before I died, we had gotten into a massive argument. I had looked at his phone and seen texts from his ex-girlfriend. In reality, they were just discussing work. There was no explicit flirting. But a woman’s sensitivity and suspicion caused my emotions to spiral out of control. His ex-girlfriend. His “one that got away.” His absolute muse. He had never deleted the photos of them from his camera roll. Yet, in all the years we had been together, we didn’t have a single picture together. The day before, he was running a 102-degree fever. I stayed awake all night by his bed, nursing him. But in his feverish delirium, the name he mumbled was hers. These things piled up, piece by piece, until my emotions erupted like a volcano. Finally, Holden looked at me with exhaustion and said, “Harper, stop causing a scene.” Harper. He was always so cold and distant, calling me by my full name. But in his texts, he called his ex-girlfriend by her sweet nickname, “Ella.” Why didn’t he just call her Stella Montgomery? Holden said I was being unreasonable. He didn’t know that this was just the final straw on a mountain of suppressed feelings. I didn’t want the argument to escalate into something uglier, so I slammed the door and left. 2 But I never expected to be so unlucky. After fighting with Holden, I originally planned to go to the mall to do some retail therapy and clear my head. Instead, I ran into a psychopath. Life is unpredictable like that. I was murdered. The police called Holden to the morgue. Holden frowned, answering the phone with intense impatience: “Harper, are you done? Can you stop being so childish?” After he hung up, the police called him a second time. “Hello, please don’t hang up. This is the Central Precinct. This is not a prank. Am I speaking to Mr. Holden Crawford? Do you know a Harper Quinn? She was murdered at the downtown mall. Please come to the precinct immediately to identify the body.” In the suffocating, oppressive morgue. My body was covered tightly by a white sheet. Only one arm hung out, smeared with dried, dark blood. The detective said, “Take a look. Is the victim your girlfriend, Harper Quinn?” He reached out to pull back the white sheet covering my head. But Holden grabbed the detective’s wrist in a death grip. He stared fixedly at the arm hanging out—at the tattoo of a wild rose intertwined with the letters “HC”. Even beneath the mottled bloodstains, it was strikingly visible. I remembered when I first got that tattoo. I excitedly held it up to show Holden. He was furious. He thought that permanently marking his initials on my body was incredibly irresponsible. Actually, his grandmother had just passed away around that time. He had said, in total despair, that from then on, he was an orphan, utterly alone in the world. So I went and got that tattoo. I just wanted to make him a little happier. I pointed to the tattoo and solemnly promised him, “The wild rose symbolizes eternal companionship. Holden, I will always be with you.” So you will never be an orphan, and you will never be alone. I’ve forgotten his exact reaction, but I remember moving myself to tears. Thinking back on it now, his anger was probably just a feeling of being burdened. The person he wanted by his side forever… was always someone else. 3 Holden stared dead at my tattoo. He said, “There’s no need. It’s her.” He looked so calm, just incredibly pale. I heard the detective tell him, “The killer was a sociopath, stabbing people at random in the mall. Your girlfriend was trying to pull a pregnant woman to safety but got tripped and fell. She died a hero.” No, I didn’t. I was trying to help the pregnant woman run, but when the killer was right behind us, she shoved me backward to save herself and ran away. I was stabbed over twenty times by that psychopath. I bled to death. Just my rotten luck. I stood in front of Holden and cried. It hurts so much, Holden. I hurt so, so much. But thankfully, he didn’t let the detective lift the sheet. My body was definitely too mangled to look at. When Holden walked out of the morgue, he stumbled slightly. Then he leaned silently against the wall in the hallway. After a long time, he called my parents, probably to inform them of my death. No one answered. This wasn’t surprising. My parents divorced when I was very young and had no affection for me. They were probably afraid I was calling to ask for money, so they had cut ties with me years ago. The police were efficient. An older officer patted Holden’s shoulder, handed him a business card, and said, “This is the contact for the crematorium. Have them come pick her up as soon as possible. It’s hot out; you can’t keep her here for days, and you can’t take her home.” From the moment I was murdered to the moment I became a handful of ashes in Holden’s hands. Not even twelve hours had passed. And Holden handled my post-mortem affairs with chilling calmness. Signing papers at the station, going through the motions, everything perfectly organized. I opened my ghostly eyes wide, trying to find a single trace of grief on his handsome, pale face. Just a little bit. Couldn’t he shed just one tear for me? Even if he had kept a dog for this many years, he should have at least faked some sadness, right? But sadly, I found nothing. 4 I floated home with Holden. He sat on the couch, staring blankly, as if the sudden reality hadn’t registered. I couldn’t blame him; even I felt like I was in a dream. One second I was perfectly alive, arguing with him about his ex-girlfriend. The next, I was murdered, reduced to a wandering spirit in the mortal realm. I could never go back. I was dead. My body had been hacked over twenty times. Every minute leading up to my death was agonizing. My physical form was now just a pile of ashes, and here I was, a pathetic ghost, greedily searching my boyfriend’s demeanor for any tiny clue that he might have actually loved me. What a pitiful, tragic existence. Maybe before the sun rises tomorrow, I’ll fade away completely. I suddenly felt a little scared. Holden stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought. I gently drifted over and rested my head against his shoulder. Trying to draw some warmth from his body. Surprisingly, when the sun rose the next day, I hadn’t vanished. I turned to look for Holden. He was on the phone with Stella Montgomery. They were going on a business trip together to handle a client’s case in Boston. Oh, right. He and Stella were both lawyers. Last year, Stella jumped ship and joined his top-tier Big Law firm. Holden was a senior partner there. That was when our frequent, explosive arguments began. I remember one time I was so furious I lost my filter. I asked, “Holden, do you want to rekindle things with your ex? If you want to break up, just say it.” He stood in the living room, backlit by the window, his handsome face devoid of emotion. He just stared at me coldly and didn’t say a word. Later, I regretted the fight and gave myself a way out. I stood in the kitchen, wiping my tears, and asked, “Holden, do you want beef stew or chicken parm for dinner?” He said beef stew. And just like that, we made up, both pretending the fight had never happened. 5 Holden hung up the phone and started packing his suitcase. I thought my death would at least make him depressed for a little while, but clearly, I was wrong. My death hadn’t caused even a ripple in his emotional state. He didn’t even delay his business trip. I never expected him to be like this after I died. He kept to his routine, going to work, coming home, sleeping late, waking up early. His life ran like clockwork. Aside from occasionally zoning out for long periods, he acted as if I had never existed in his world. I was like a sea foam bubble, vanishing completely from his life without leaving a single trace. How heartless. Who knows, maybe on this trip, fighting side-by-side with Stella, staying in the same hotel, the old flames might reignite. Whatever. I was already dead. Right, I’m dead. I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and a chill in my heart. It’s strange. You still have a heart after you die. The pain branched out from my chest, creeping along my stagnant veins until it was unbearable. I felt my entire body become weightless, floating gently in mid-air. I heard the sound of the front door closing. I had originally wanted to follow Holden on his trip. But I thought, what was the point? Even if they kissed right in front of me, there was nothing I could do. I stared at the ceiling in the dead-silent house and started reminiscing about my history with Holden. I always knew he didn’t love me. But I never expected that, after staying by his side for so many years, he wouldn’t have even a sliver of affection for me. 6 Holden and I went to the same university. He was pre-law; I was a struggling art major barely scraping by. During my freshman year, the university hosted a seminar on student rights and fraud prevention. We had just finished an exhausting week of campus orientation. We had been standing in the blistering sun all day and just wanted to go back to the dorms and sleep. Being forced to attend some boring seminar led to widespread complaints, and everyone was drowsy. Until Holden stepped up to the podium. The professor running the seminar had a last-minute emergency and sent his star student to fill in. The moment Holden stood there, I was wide awake. I couldn’t help it. I was a sucker for a pretty face. He was tall, lean, and incredibly pleasant to look at. His expression was cool, his eyes deep. When he spoke, his pacing was perfect, his voice captivating. He made a dry, boring seminar on student rights sound fascinating. Looking at him shining on that stage, my naive, young heart fluttered wildly, and I fell head over heels for him. The result was predictable. I chased him for six months, and he avoided me like the plague for six months. I was young, passionate, and reckless for love. I had this stubborn courage that refused to give up until I hit a brick wall. But I never considered that my “courage” was actually a nuisance to him. Once, when I blocked his path again, smiling and offering him some pastries I had baked myself, he stared at me with those dark eyes and asked: “You spend every day chasing after someone who doesn’t like you, wasting your time and mine. Don’t you have your own life to live?” I didn’t catch his underlying meaning back then. I just foolishly said, “My life right now is trying to win you over.” Then I held up my finger, showing him a blister I got from baking. Pouting a little, I said, “Look, it hurts.” His gaze swept coldly over my finger and landed on my face. He frowned slightly, let out a detached sigh, and said with obvious frustration, “The things you do don’t move me, Harper. You’re just moving yourself. And this self-sacrificing act of yours is putting a huge burden on me.” He looked at the tears welling up in my eyes, hesitated for a second to choose his words, but still said it, “And I really don’t like you.” “You’re a nice person, but I will never, ever be attracted to a girl with your personality. Do you understand?” A girl with my personality. I sat on the planter box by the sidewalk, resting my chin in my hands. I knew what Holden meant. I was painfully average. I wasn’t an overachiever. I blended into the crowd. I lacked discipline, loved to eat and sleep, and had no goals or plans for the future. The person he liked had always been Stella Montgomery. They were the shining stars of the pre-law program, perfectly matching each other’s brilliance. She was exceptional, independent, and had her own strong opinions. She would certainly never act like me—pathetically chasing after a man who didn’t love her. After that, I disappeared from Holden’s world. You have to know when you’re not wanted. 7 Later, my friends asked me, What exactly do you like about Holden Crawford? Is it just his face? He treats you like that, why are you so obsessed? Why? Maybe it was because of that time I was walking back to my dorm from off-campus, and I saw him in the woods near the North Gate, feeding a stray cat. It was pouring rain. He held an umbrella with one hand, squatting on the muddy ground with meticulous patience, coaxing the filthy, shivering kitten out from under a bush. Then, he gently hid the dirty kitten inside his jacket to keep it dry and took it back to his dorm. His profile in that moment was so incredibly gentle. I stared at him in a daze. Even though I was holding an umbrella, I felt like a torrential downpour had just flooded my heart. I wanted to tell him that I was a stray cat, too. I was abandoned by my parents when I was little, and I grew up wandering just like that. If he could be so gentle to a filthy stray kitten, would he ever look at me with that same tender expression? But thinking about it now… he gave all his tenderness to everyone except me. 8 Holden came back a week later. I had been lying on the living room couch for a week. But it was strange. He obviously had his keys, yet he stood at the door, knocking persistently. As if someone was going to jump out and open it for him. When I was alive, every time he came back from a business trip, I would time it perfectly and wait by the door. Sometimes his flight would be delayed, so I’d sit on the stairs. The moment his silhouette appeared, I’d practically tackle him, wrapping my arms around his neck in sheer joy. Because every day we were apart, I missed him terribly. He would pry my hands off his neck and say coldly, “Stop messing around.” I would always prepare a lavish dinner. I knew he didn’t eat well during his business dinners, and his stomach was ruined from his younger days. So, my specialty was making soothing, easy-to-digest comfort food. He must have been knocking for a while because Mrs. Higgins, our next-door neighbor, opened her door and said, “Holden, you’re back from your trip?” “Stop knocking. Harper isn’t home. I haven’t seen her in almost a week.” “Did you forget your keys? Harper left a spare with me just in case you ever forgot yours and she wasn’t home. Do you need it?” After a moment, I heard Holden’s voice. It sounded like it was being squeezed from the very depths of his throat—hoarse and low. He said, “No need.” He used his own key to open the door. Then he stood frozen in the entryway. He had left in a hurry the day of his trip. The balcony curtains were drawn, making the apartment look dark and gloomy. The spray roses on the coffee table had completely withered and died. The house was a mess: a half-empty teapot, molding fruit in a bowl, a half-eaten bag of chips, and fine dust floating in the stagnant air. Oh, and my ashes. Placed in the complimentary small box from the crematorium, sitting right next to the dead spray roses. When I was alive, the house had never been this messy. Because this was our home. We were both people without families. When we finally built this little nest, I cherished it deeply. I always kept it comfortable and spotless. God knows how badly we both wanted a home. He stood there for a very long time before finally stepping inside. He pulled back the curtains. My clothes were still hanging on the drying rack on the balcony. He froze for a second. Just when I thought he was going to throw my clothes into the trash, he took them down, folded them on the couch, and started mopping the floor and cleaning the apartment. I never knew the house could be this quiet. It felt like, aside from the sound of breathing, there was absolutely nothing else. After finishing all those chores, he sat exhaustedly on the couch alone. I studied him closely. He had lost a lot of weight on this trip. His eyes were bloodshot, and his stubble was unkempt. He was a high-powered, immaculate lawyer. Had his case with Stella Montgomery not gone well? Just as I was thinking that, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He had actually quit smoking a long time ago. I don’t know why he started again. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were wide open—hollow, cold, devoid of emotion. He smoked one cigarette after another. Then, for some reason, he spaced out again, until the ash from the cigarette fell onto his palm, startling him back to reality. After a long time, I saw his lips move. I drifted closer and heard him whisper, so softly: “Harper.” That name… it was spoken so faintly, it felt like a hallucination.

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The day I picked up my husband’s medical diagnosis, I caught him secretly installing a hidden camera in our master bedroom. That night, I watched him through the crack in the door as he made a solemn vow on the phone: “I won’t touch her again. I’ve sent you the account logins and passwords. You can check them anytime.” “I’ve decided to save myself for love.” Looking at his flushed, impassioned face, I silently fed his medical report into the paper shredder. Save yourself for love, huh? Well then, you can save yourself for the rest of your life. 01 When the letters [ALS] on Arthur’s medical report came into view, my knees nearly gave out. Three months ago, Arthur had taken a bad fall while hiking. During his hospital stay, I insisted the doctors run a comprehensive full-body workup, just for peace of mind. I never expected a result like this. “Currently, there is no cure for Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. We can only use medication to slow the progression of the disease, but the ultimate outcome is irreversible.” The doctor looked at me with deep sympathy. Arthur was barely in his early thirties. Handsome, in his prime, and at the peak of his career. As one of the most prominent divorce attorneys in the state, he was shrewd, decisive, and brutally rational—the elite of the elite. His private life was simple and disciplined; he loved the gym and hiking, and he had extremely high standards for his quality of life. To think that a man like him would eventually become a completely paralyzed ALS patient… I couldn’t bear to imagine it. I sat on a bench on the sidewalk, watching the endless stream of traffic for a long time before slowly standing up. I had made up my mind. Since we were husband and wife, we should face everything together. No matter what he became, I would take our son and stand by his side. It was already dark by the time I got home. Our son, Leo, was quietly playing chess in his room. At seven years old, he had reached the level of a five-dan amateur and had even been interviewed by a local news station as a “child prodigy.” “Have you eaten?” I asked him gently, trying to compose myself. “Yes. The nanny made ribs and lotus root soup today.” He didn’t look at me, his eyes glued to the chessboard. “Where’s Dad?” “He went for a run.” Leo had a quiet personality and spoke concisely. He took after us. Two hours later, I was leaning against the headboard, debating whether or not to tell Arthur about his diagnosis when he finally walked in. Dressed in sleek black running gear, he looked striking and capable. I felt a sudden spike of anxiety. “It’s freezing outside, why are you wearing so little?” One of the precautions the doctor had given me today was that ALS patients generate less body heat due to muscle atrophy and must avoid getting cold, as it accelerates the disease’s progression. Arthur remained expressionless and said flatly: “This is what you wear when you run.” He proceeded to open a small box he was holding, took out a camera, and began setting it up on the dresser opposite the bed. Pointing directly at the bed. I was confused. “Why are you suddenly installing a camera?” “There have been some burglaries in the neighborhood. It’s safer to have surveillance.” “Aren’t you worried about privacy?” I asked hesitantly. After all, Arthur was someone who was obsessively protective of his personal space. He glanced at me and scoffed: “Privacy? Who would be interested in your privacy?” A tangled mess of emotions churned in my chest, but I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. When it was time to sleep, he lay down with his back to me, staying on the far edge of the mattress, looking completely exhausted and unwilling to communicate. I sighed softly to myself. He had just wrapped up a highly publicized celebrity divorce case. With the sudden release of pressure, I should let him relax for a bit. In the middle of the night, I woke up suddenly, my heart racing. The space beside me was empty. Arthur wasn’t there. A wave of panic hit me, and I got out of bed to find him. Out on the balcony, he was standing in his thin pajamas, talking on the phone in the cold night wind. I grabbed a jacket and started walking toward him. “I won’t touch her again…” His hushed voice drifted over, and I stopped in my tracks. “I’ve sent you the passwords and the accounts. You can log in and check anytime.” “I’ve decided to save myself for love.” Through the glass door, I stared blankly at Arthur. His usually cold, indifferent face was currently surging with incredibly intense emotion. Watching his flushed, impassioned face, my brain slowly processed the logic behind his words. For a moment, I felt like I was looking at a stranger. 02 Arthur had always had a very high sex drive. During the day, he was abstinent and disciplined, but at night, he demanded a lot. In recent years, as the pressure on him skyrocketed, he had to be meticulous and airtight in everything he said and did. Consequently, he closed himself off more and more. It was only during our intimate moments at night, when he was breathless and passionate against my ear, that I could catch a glimpse of the boy who used to blush when he looked at me. We met in grad school. He chased me. This cold, arrogant man only had burning eyes and a trembling voice for me. I fell for him quickly. Later, I stayed on at the university as a psychology professor. He started as an associate attorney and climbed his way up to partner, becoming a nationally renowned divorce lawyer making an eight-figure salary. We shared many personality traits: Emotionally stable, pragmatic, objective and calm, valuing a high quality of life, and willing to work hard for our goals. My job was stable and respectable, allowing me to balance work and family; his career was wildly successful, soaring in his field. Married for eight years, we treated each other with mutual respect and support, living in a multi-million dollar penthouse with a worry-free “child prodigy” son. It was, by all accounts, an enviable family. However, about six months ago, he suddenly started changing. He had a habit of going for night runs. It used to be out the door by 8:00 PM, home by 9:00 PM, followed by a shower and exactly half an hour of family time. Like clockwork. But six months ago, he suddenly started leaving at 7:00 PM and not returning until 10:00 PM. When he got back, he always seemed exhausted, going straight to bed after his shower, naturally canceling our family time. I asked him why his night runs were taking so long. He pursed his lips and said flatly, “I hit a wall with a case. Staying out a bit longer helps clear my head.” Mental labor can sometimes be more exhausting than physical labor. I understood. Later, he also suddenly seemed to lose interest in sex. I assumed the immense pressure was affecting him physically. Afraid of hurting his pride, I never brought it up, but I was deeply worried about him. That was also why, when he injured himself in a fall, I strongly urged him to take a leave of absence to recover properly, and asked the doctors to run a full-body checkup. But looking at it now, the situation wasn’t what I thought at all… I lay back in bed, staring wide-eyed into the darkness, quietly looking at the ceiling. The words he just spoke made him feel like a stranger, and the expression on his face made everything feel surreal. To the point where, having suffered two massive blows in one day, my overwhelming curiosity actually suppressed the sadness and anger I should have been feeling. I was genuinely curious. What kind of woman was on the other end of that phone call? To make Arthur, a man who had trained himself to be ruthlessly rational over the years, act like that? I’ve always been a direct person. The very next night, I slipped a sleeping pill into his glass of warm milk. 03 He slept heavily. I pressed his finger against the sensor and unlocked his phone. Finding the number he had called the night before, I stared at it for a long time before certain neurons finally connected. I had seen this number before. Three months ago, after Arthur fell while hiking and was hospitalized, I went to the police to get the contact information of the person who found him and called 911, wanting to express my gratitude. This was the number the police had given me. I have an excellent memory, especially for numbers. I couldn’t be wrong. I had called the number right there in front of the officer. A woman answered. Her voice was gentle and polite, but she sounded like she was in her late thirties or forties. She softly declined my offer to meet, saying there was no need for thanks, and that it was just what any decent person would do. After hanging up, the police officer chuckled and told me that while someone else might have accepted a reward, she definitely wouldn’t. I asked why. The officer said he recognized her during questioning. She had once been featured on the news as the “Most Beautiful and Resilient Woman.” “She’s had a hard life. Her husband suffered a massive stroke on their wedding day and was completely paralyzed, leaving behind a seven-year-old son from a previous marriage. She never left his side, feeding him and cleaning up after him for thirteen years, and raised that boy all by herself. Her husband passed away last year, and she finally caught a break. Now she runs a little food stall outside the suburban park, selling lamb stew.” “A woman with her moral character? She’d never accept your reward money.” At the time, I nodded in admiration. “My husband was truly lucky to have been found by her.” Now, in the dead of night, I stared at his phone for a long time before opening his photo album. I don’t know if Arthur was overconfident or just assumed I completely trusted him, but he hadn’t made any effort to hide anything. The screen was filled with photos of a woman. The exact same woman. Under the starry night sky, a brightly lit, steaming food stall. The woman had gentle eyes and a radiant smile, whether she was chopping ingredients, serving soup, or chatting with customers. Every single picture exuded warmth and a sense of peaceful domesticity. Across hundreds of photos, the woman’s wardrobe changed from short-sleeved summer dresses to heavy winter coats. The timeline spanned six months. On the third day, I went to the suburban park and sat down at the small stall with a sign reading “Linda’s Lamb Stew.” I watched the woman named Linda from a short distance away. She was squatting by a planter, speaking softly to a stray cat. Two men standing in front of her stall joked: “Linda, you only have eyes for these little cats and dogs, you aren’t even trying to make money anymore.” Linda hurriedly stood up, smiling apologetically as she explained gently: “I’m so sorry, I just feel so bad for them. I got too distracted and didn’t see you.” One of the men waved his hand dismissively. “You’re doing a good deed. These strays treat your stall like home because they know you have a soft heart and will always give them food. It’s a heartwarming sight, we enjoy seeing it.” After the two men left, I walked over. “One bowl of lamb stew, please.” Linda said “Sure thing!” and cheerfully served me a bowl. Through the rising steam, I quietly studied her. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, with fine lines branching out from the corners of her eyes. While she lacked the youthful allure of a younger girl, her features were soft and tranquil. Her hair was tied back casually in a low ponytail, with loose strands framing her face, giving her a distinct, gentle femininity. “Sister, it’s your first time here. Let me give you a few extra pieces of lamb to try.” I sat at a small table, slowly tasting the stew. My mind constantly wrestled with one question. A person like Linda, with her background and moral character… Would she really do something like destroying someone else’s family? Would she? 04 My vision blurred for a second, and Linda was sitting down across from me. I was slightly taken aback. She smiled gently, her bright eyes looking right at me: “You’re Arthur’s wife, aren’t you?” I put my spoon down and met her gaze silently. “So you know who I am.” She smiled. “I have a good memory. I saw you once on Arthur’s phone screen and recognized you.” I frowned, remembering. Arthur’s lock screen used to be a picture of me and our son. It was only six months ago that he suddenly changed it to a landscape. She lowered her eyes, stayed silent for a few seconds, then looked at me and spoke. “I know why you’re here. You probably think Arthur and I are having an affair, right?” I didn’t say anything. She slowly looked up, her expression warm and sincere. “Sister, if you trust me… we aren’t. Arthur and I are completely innocent. Our only interaction is that he stops by for a bowl of soup after his run.” At this, a look of distress crossed her brow. “Later, I noticed he seemed down when he came for his soup. He wouldn’t talk to anyone and looked like he was under a lot of pressure, so out of the goodness of my heart, I tried to comfort him a few times. I never expected… sigh, he probably misunderstood.” “He started saying some inappropriate things, but I just found it ridiculous. Not only is he a married man, but even if he were single, a man of his status wouldn’t look twice at someone like me.” “I told him he was just acting on impulse, but he wouldn’t listen. In fact, he got increasingly out of line. Sometimes, completely ignoring my wishes, he would call me and say the most absurd things.” “Actually, even if you hadn’t come looking for me, I was planning on finding you to talk. Arthur must be under too much pressure to act so crazily and irrationally. As his wife, maybe you could help him more.” I stared at the layer of white fat slowly congealing around the edge of my bowl. “So what you’re saying is, all these things are just Arthur’s unrequited obsession, and you’ve actually been trying to reject him this whole time?” Linda let out a long, mournful sigh and slowly nodded. I looked up at her and asked slowly: “So, him installing a camera in our master bedroom for you to monitor… was that also an impulsive act that he forced upon you against your will?” Linda froze for a second, then quickly said, “I’ve already scolded him for that! It was completely out of line!” I continued: “What about the time you guys went hiking together? When he fell down the mountain because you said your feet hurt and he tried to carry you… did he force you to go against your will that time too?” Linda’s pupils dilated, and she stood up abruptly. “Hiking? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I looked at her coldly. “Didn’t you say you have a good memory? I even called you to thank you that time. Have you forgotten already?” Just then, a customer shouted, “Large order to go!” Linda pressed her lips together and practically jogged back to her stall, her movements stiff as she grabbed a large ladle to serve the soup. “CLANG—” With a massive crash, the entire hot pot full of lamb stew tipped over, spilling steaming broth and meat all over the ground. The boiling soup splashed onto her, and Linda let out a sharp cry, her eyes instantly welling up with tears. The customer cursed, jumped back, muttered about bad luck, and stormed off. Looking at the mess in front of me, I didn’t want to get a drop of grease on myself, so I picked up my bag to leave. Red-eyed, she suddenly called out. “I’m sorry!” I stopped and frowned at her. She stood there miserably, sobbing softly. “I’m sorry, I did keep that from you. That day, I was upset because my stepson had been fighting, and he happened to show up. He said going for a hike would cheer me up, so I went. After he fell, I was terrified. I called 911, but I didn’t dare meet you because I was afraid you’d misunderstand.” Her eyes were bloodshot, tears streaming down her face, and her hands had immediately developed large blisters from the hot soup that splashed on her. She looked utterly pitiful. “Evelyn, what are you doing?!” A furious yell came from behind me. I turned my head to see Arthur sprinting toward us, his face flushed with anger. For a moment, I was stunned. It had been a very, very long time since I had seen such intense emotion on his face. He was wearing the blue suit he only wore for major negotiations, which meant he had rushed over in the middle of an important professional event. Yet when I was in a car accident and called him, he insisted on finishing his negotiation before coming to the hospital. Arthur glared furiously at the mess on the ground, then at the softly sobbing Linda. He pressed his lips tightly together and took a few deliberate steps to her side. He lowered his head, quietly looking at the wretched and helpless woman before him. Suddenly, he pulled her into a fierce embrace. “Are you okay?” “Did she hurt you?” Linda buried her face in his chest and suddenly burst into tears, crying as if she had been deeply wronged. Arthur closed his eyes in pain and said softly: “Don’t cry! Linda, don’t cry! Remember what you always say? The boat has passed ten thousand mountains. Your suffering is over, completely over! Nothing else will ever make Linda shed a single tear!” From beginning to end. Arthur didn’t spare me a single glance. 05 I took out my phone, pointed it at them, and snapped several photos in quick succession. The crisp “click-click” sound echoed. Linda abruptly pulled out of Arthur’s embrace, stepping back a few paces, looking regretful and panicked, as if she had just realized what she was doing. She looked at me frantically, scrambling to explain: “I forgot, I didn’t mean to, I—” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Because I was just looking at her indifferently. “You don’t need to say a single word. I’m here.” Arthur cut her off in a low voice, turned to me, and instantly regained his usual calm, composed demeanor, looking like the sharp-eyed attorney he was. “Evelyn, whatever it is, we’ll talk about it at home. This is very close to your university, and there are many people from your school passing through the park. Making a scene here will make you look bad. Besides…” He glanced at the messy ground. “Bullying a lonely, helpless woman, is that fun for you?” I looked at him coldly, my voice steady. “So you know there are people from my school coming and going here. Yet as my husband, hugging a widow here like dry wood on a fire… did you find that exciting?” Arthur’s eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of shock amidst his indignation. After all, I had always been gentle, elegant, and composed in front of him. He had never seen this side of me before. Even I hadn’t. “Even though I’m not the type to just slap you right now, don’t try to pin your shit on my head.” I turned to Linda, who was silently cleaning up the mess. “Ms. Linda, so you not saying anything… are you actually planning on doing that?” She trembled slightly, and after a few seconds, she slowly lifted her chin and said loudly: “Never mind, stop fighting! It wasn’t her, I knocked it over myself. Is that enough?” Red-eyed, she looked at Arthur with grievance: “Arthur, please take your wife and leave now. Don’t interfere with my business. I won’t be accepting your business from now on either. Please don’t come back!” A few customers gradually approached. “What’s going on here? Why is it such a mess!” “Linda, is someone bullying you? Who is it?” “Who dares to bully Linda! I’ll be the first to teach them a lesson!” Various hostile glares landed on me. Arthur’s eyes darkened, and he grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the parking lot. I couldn’t shake him off, so I had to follow him. We ran into an acquaintance from the university carrying a basketball, who smiled and greeted me. “Professor Sterling!” I smiled and nodded. “Hello.” 06 Once in the parking lot, I forcefully shook off his hand and walked calmly to my own car. As trees flew past on both sides, I drove on the main road, and tears finally began to fall uncontrollably. I gave myself half an hour. Anger, pain, acceptance, calm… Then I turned the steering wheel and headed for the bank. Arthur and I had a joint family account where we both deposited our salaries, dividends, and returns. When we originally opened it, he smiled and told me: “Didn’t you always complain that I’m not affectionate enough? This account is for you to manage. I’ll just be responsible for putting money into it, as a guarantee for you and our son’s future. Are you satisfied with this expression of love?” Over the past few years, the account balance had accumulated to over 18 million. The bank teller informed me with confusion: “This account has been frozen due to a guarantee default. Didn’t you know?” My hands and feet suddenly went cold as I slowly asked: “When did this happen?” “Two months ago.” Two months ago… That was right after he was discharged from the hospital, when I was completely exhausted from taking care of him and had a high fever for a whole week. While I was practically delirious with sickness, he was already laying the groundwork for divorce and fighting for assets to gain the upper hand. I felt it was both ironic and ridiculous. On the way here, I was actually regretting being too impulsive and showing my cards before having an escape route. But it turned out he had started scheming against me long ago. When a man changes his heart, he can be truly ruthless! It was pitch black by the time I got home. Arthur was sitting on the couch in his pajamas, drinking tea with his usual calm expression. He glanced at me. “I sent Leo to my mom’s place. Let’s settle things clearly all at once.” I sat down and stared at him in silence. He took a sip of tea and slowly began: “I originally planned to discuss this later. After all, I felt somewhat guilty and wanted to let you and our son enjoy a happy life for as long as possible. However, since you chose to go and cause a scene today, I can only give you what you want.” “Evelyn, I’ve fallen in love with someone else. Let’s get a divorce!” I was extremely calm, even giving him a slight smile. “Arthur, can you tell me exactly what you love about her so much that you chose to betray a 10-year relationship and abandon your wife and child?” He frowned slightly. “If you insist on asking for details…” After a moment of silence, he spoke slowly in a gentle and emotional tone: “Because of my work over the past few years, I’ve seen too much deception in marriages. I lost a normal understanding and judgment of love and marriage long ago. But after meeting her, I realized that there really are women like this. Purely out of love and responsibility, she didn’t hesitate to dedicate the best ten-plus years of her youth. She brought vitality to my heavy, stagnant, suffocating life.” “You ask what I love about her? I’ve asked myself that question countless times.” “Because she’s gentle, kind, and strong. Because life gave her hardship, yet she stubbornly bloomed like a flower from the mud. Because of every cold night, the bowl of hot soup she handed me.” As he finished this long speech, emotions surged across his face, seemingly having moved himself. The room fell into silence. After a long while, I clicked my tongue softly. “So the soup the nanny makes isn’t hot? You have to go outside to get a taste of something fishy?” Arthur froze, his face instantly turning cold. “Evelyn, you are a sophisticated egoist. You wouldn’t understand this kind of emotion.” I nodded. “Since that’s the case, you leave with nothing, and I agree to the divorce.” A distinct look of mockery appeared on his face. “Not to mention there’s no such thing as ‘leaving with nothing’ in the law. Taking a step back, Linda and I have had absolutely no physical relationship. I’m not even the at-fault party.” I gazed at him, silent for a long time. Can a person really change this completely? Flipping out so ruthlessly, as if suddenly swapping souls! Arthur seemed to guess what I was thinking and slightly furrowed his brow: “You don’t need to act like this. When feelings are gone, divorce is the natural next step. When I fell down the mountain and was waiting for rescue, I thought it through clearly. Life is short, and I don’t want to cower and be afraid to love. Even if I bear infamy and condemnation, I have to risk everything to truly live once.” “Evelyn, don’t forget what I do for a living. I have too many methods; it’s just a matter of whether I want to use them on you or not.” I started to laugh softly. “You haven’t used them on me? Didn’t you already use them? Playing dirty tricks like freezing the account, aren’t you afraid of desecrating your noble and pure love!” Arthur glanced at me and said lightly: “I see you went to check the account. It’s nothing, just standard operating procedure, just to prevent any unexpected twists during the divorce.” “I’ve already drafted the divorce agreement. I keep the money and our son, and you get the house. Of course, you’ll have to handle the remaining mortgage yourself.” “From the perspective of financial contribution to the family, this proposal is already exceedingly generous—” “Thud!” I grabbed the ashtray on the table and hurled it at him. He covered his forehead. Bright red blood flowed out from between his fingers.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411855”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I kidnapped a trust fund kid. But this rich boy was severely depressed. Every day, he was either trying to get himself killed or actively seeking out ways to die. To keep him from kicking the bucket on my watch, I glued my eyes to him 24/7. Then one day, he looked at me with deep, passionate sincerity and said, “Before, I wanted to die. I really did. But now that I’ve met you, I look forward to tomorrow more than anything.” Wait, hold up! I’m the kidnapper here! How did I end up getting zero ransom money and losing my heart in the process?! 1 My name is Maya, and I’m a kidnapper. A broke, desperate kidnapper. I needed money. Like, really needed it. So, I took a massive risk and kidnapped Oliver Vance, the youngest son of the CEO of Vance Enterprises, planning to demand a $500,000 ransom. I never expected this trust fund baby to have severe depression. Before I could even send the ransom note, this idiot tried to off himself every other day. I was getting sick and tired of saving his life. Finally, one day, he said, “I’m done trying to kill myself. Why don’t you just kill me instead?” I’m a kidnapper with professional standards. I absolutely do not kill the hostage without a very good reason. But I really, really needed the money. I thought about it long and hard, and finally decided to grant his wish: “Then you’re going to have to pay extra!” But as a rookie kidnapper, I just didn’t have the heart to actually gut him. Oliver was a textbook rich kid. Clean-cut features, perfect teeth, and unfairly handsome. In all my years, I’d never seen a guy this good-looking. As a girl who hadn’t seen much of the world, I couldn’t help but want to poke his cheek every now and then. Oliver was usually gloomy and withdrawn, and sometimes he would just inexplicably start crying. I felt like I was the one making him cry. I felt guilty. I tried my absolute best to comfort him: “Don’t be scared, I only kidnapped you for the ransom. I’m not going to kill you.” “How much are you asking for?” His voice sounded so pure. I held up five fingers: “$500,000.” Hearing that, he lowered his eyes, seemingly unsatisfied with the price. I said, “Should I offer a discount?” He shook his head. “Then should you try haggling?” He said melancholically, “I really am a worthless person…” Me: ??? He asked me back, “Do you really think I’m only worth $500,000?” I felt like something was wrong with his brain, and said hesitantly, “Then five million?” He sighed, seemingly feeling it was still too cheap. After discussing the price with him, I sat nearby and started writing the thirteenth ransom note to his dad. Why the thirteenth? Because I had already written twelve! As I wrote, I asked Oliver, “Why hasn’t your dad sent the money yet? Does he also think my asking price is too low?” The world of the rich—I don’t understand it, but I am deeply shocked by it. “I don’t know. How did you write the letter? Read it to me.” I said “Okay” and started reading: “Dear Mr. Vance, Hello. How is your health lately? I have kidnapped your youngest son, Oliver. Please wire $500,000 to the following account: 62167xxxxxxxx. Thank you! Please do not call the police, otherwise I will kill the hostage before they arrive.” “…” “How is it? Is there a problem?” “It’s not aggressive enough.” “Then how should I write it?” I handed him the pen and paper. “Why don’t you write it for me?” Oliver reluctantly agreed: “Fine.” I was just about to untie his ropes, but then I had a second thought: What if he runs away? “I won’t run,” he said. I hesitated, still too afraid to untie him. “I really won’t run,” he added. “I swear on my honor as a student.” Fine. Because of that sentence, I trusted him and untied the ropes. He rubbed his sore arms, then picked up the pen and paper. I have to say, not only was he good-looking, but his handwriting was also incredibly neat. How could someone this perfect exist in the world? It’s just… The letter he wrote went like this: Hey, old man Vance, your son is in my hands right now! Wire $500,000 to the account below, and make it snappy! Don’t you dare short me a single cent! Don’t call the cops, or I’ll kill him! “Oliver, is it really okay to write it like this?” I stared at the ransom note he wrote, lost in thought. “It only sounds aggressive if you write it like this.” I thought about it and felt his reasoning was sound. Just as I was about to put the letter in the envelope, he suddenly said, “Maybe we should ask for five million. I feel like I’m worth more than this.” I shook my head firmly: “No, I only want $500,000.” I decided to send the letter the next day. But that night, I had a dream. I dreamed I was caught by the police, and Mr. Vance was screaming at the top of his lungs nearby: “I wired you $500,000 thirteen times! Couldn’t you just ask for it all at once, damn it! If you wanted it in installments, you should have at least said something!” I was crying uncontrollably: “I’m sorry, I forgot to turn on my bank text alerts!” I woke up with a start, my forehead covered in sweat, and shook Oliver awake: “Oliver, Oliver, wake up!” He opened his sleepy eyes and asked what was wrong. “I think I forgot to turn on my bank text alerts.” “…” 2 Guys, the perfect Oliver is not perfect. Ever since I tied him up and brought him to this mountain warehouse half a month ago, I never realized he was such a neat freak! This morning, I was planning to mail the ransom note, but Oliver absolutely refused to go without taking a shower first. I had no choice but to take him to the mountain spring to rinse off. He dawdled and washed for over half an hour. When we finally got back, I had just tied him up when he insisted I tie his shoelaces. “Your shoelaces are tied perfectly fine!” “The butterfly wings are uneven. It’s bothering me.” “…” After adjusting his shoelaces, I went out to mail the letter and turned on my bank text alerts while I was at it. I checked my balance. No $500,000. But right as I walked out of the bank, I spotted two police officers not far away. I shuddered. Were they here to catch me?! I scurried back into the bank, peeked half my head out from behind the door, and observed. I saw a police officer holding a photo and asking a passerby, “Have you seen this person?” The passerby glanced at the photo and shook his head: “Never seen him.” “If you see this person, please call the police immediately.” The passerby’s sense of justice flared up: “What did this guy do? I’ve trained in MMA for a few years, maybe I can help you catch him.” He even rolled up his sleeves to show off his muscles. The police officer sternly refused: “No! This man is a ruthless, bloodthirsty kidnapper. Do not engage him directly. You must call the police!” Hearing this, I was scared out of my wits. What should I do? What should I do? The police are here to catch me! I’m going to jail! I waited until the police were far away before I dared to sneak out. I was so scared I practically wet my pants. I didn’t even dare to mail the ransom note, and hurried back to the abandoned warehouse as fast as I could. “Oliver! Oliver! What are we going to do? Waaaaah…” As soon as I got back, I ran straight to Oliver, hugged him tightly, and cried uncontrollably. I felt like if he wasn’t tied up, he probably would have pushed me away long ago. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “The police are here to catch me. What do we do?” I said while wiping away tears. “I saw with my own eyes the police asking people around with my photo! I’m done for! Waaaaah!” Oliver pondered for a moment, then said, “Maybe my dad called the police.” When he said that, I cried even louder. “My dad called the police, so you should just kill me.” Right! I should kill him! I… I’ll do it! I’ll kill him right now! I pulled a dagger out of my backpack and waved it around Oliver’s neck. He closed his eyes, waiting for me to slit his throat. But my hands kept shaking, shaking, shaking like a leaf. I couldn’t stop them! Clang! I dropped the dagger. I… I couldn’t do it! Oliver seemed very disappointed. Just as I was crying, snot bubbles popping one after another, Oliver suddenly asked me how the police questioned the passerby. I recounted the incident while sobbing. Oliver’s face darkened: “Relax, the person they’re looking for isn’t you.” “How is that possible? I’m the kidnapper!” “Ruthless, bloodthirsty. Does that sound like you?” “…No… it doesn’t.” But hearing Oliver say that put my mind at ease. I went to the mountain spring pool and splashed water on my tear-stained face. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was my little brother, Leo. “Sister, the nurse taught me how to fold paper boats today. When are you coming back? I want to fold paper boats with you.” “Sister will be back very soon. Leo has to be a good boy and listen to the doctor, okay?” “Okay.” I put my phone back in my pocket and gathered some firewood nearby, planning to boil some water for instant noodles when I got back. But when I returned with an armful of dry wood, I caught Oliver rummaging through my backpack! “How did you untie the ropes?!” He didn’t even look up, pulling a wafer cookie out of my bag. “My arms were falling asleep, so I untied them to stretch. Why are you back so early? I haven’t had time to tie myself back up yet.” No wonder the snacks in my bag kept disappearing. I had assumed I ate them and forgot. “Since you have this skill, why didn’t you sneak away when I wasn’t looking?” He took a bite of the wafer cookie and said, “Why do you overestimate yourself so much? I could run away even when you are looking.” “…” I dropped my head, feeling a deep sense of defeat. After Oliver finished the cookie, he ripped open a bag of chips. Seemingly bored, he suddenly asked me my name. “Maya.” “Like ‘Maya the Maya’?” “Like ‘Maya’ as in the illusion.” “Oh, Little Sprout, you should wash your hands of this business early. You’re not cut out for this line of work.” “I’m only doing this one job.” I asked the question that had been buried in my heart for a long time. “Why are you always so unhappy?” “Because I have depression.” I suddenly understood: “Ah? No wonder you’re always looking for death.” He corrected my wording: “Seeking death.” I’d heard that people with depression suffer a lot. It’s a mental illness with a very high suicide rate. I comforted him: “I heard that once people have money, they lose their worries. You should be glad you have it all. Don’t be sad, Oliver.” “…Thank you for your ineffective counseling.” Since Oliver had excellent rope-untying skills, I stopped tying him up. It was all based on the honor system. That night, I tossed and turned. Thinking of Leo saying he missed me, I wanted to sprint straight to the hospital to see him. I guess I’ll go back and check on him tomorrow. Thinking this, I gradually drifted off to sleep. But it felt like as soon as I fell asleep, I was woken up by an itch. It was incredibly itchy, like claws scratching at my heart and liver. I tossed and turned, unable to fall back asleep. Why was it so itchy? While scratching, I picked up my phone to Google the symptoms. Hives? Doesn’t seem like it. Psoriasis? No. Kidney failure? Yes, yes, this must be it. These past few days, I’ve been so worried about Oliver running away that I’ve been guarding him 24/7. Sometimes I didn’t even have time to go to the bathroom and just held it in. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I instantly felt sick to my stomach, my mind going completely blank. Oliver seemed to have been woken up by me. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you sleeping?” “I feel prickly all over, incredibly uncomfortable. I just Googled my symptoms, and it says it’s kidney failure.” I was so anxious I was almost crying. “What do I do, Oliver? Am I going to die? I don’t want to die yet!” “…How long has it been since you took a shower?” “I haven’t washed since I kidnapped you! I was afraid you’d run away!” “Go take a shower. You won’t itch after you wash.” “Oh.” After I showered, I felt completely refreshed, and my body wasn’t prickly anymore. The next day, I woke up bright and early. But seeing Oliver still sleeping soundly, I didn’t dare brush my tongue when I brushed my teeth, afraid I’d gag and wake him up. I didn’t even dare chew my chips until they were soft and soggy in my mouth. My phone rang. It was my best friend, Harper. As soon as I answered, she politely greeted my entire ancestry: “Maya, you absolute disaster! Where the hell have you been these past few days? Do you have any idea how much Leo misses you?!” “I haven’t… ah, recently, I’ve actually had some things to deal with. I’ll be right back at the hospital.” I hung up the phone right after saying that, grabbed my bag, and rushed to the hospital like my tail was on fire. When I arrived at the hospital, Harper was watching cartoons with Leo. When Leo saw me, he threw his arms around me: “Sister, I missed you so much! Are you really back? I’m not dreaming, am I?” I crouched down to his eye level and pinched his soft little cheek: “You’re not dreaming. Have you been listening to the doctors lately? Are you still scared of getting shots?” “I’m not scared anymore. I’ve grown up. I’m a man now. I can protect you, sister.” While Leo and I were having our touching sibling moment, Harper angrily dragged me out of the room and demanded to know where I had been for the past half month, abandoning my own brother. “I went to get money.” “What kind of money makes you disappear completely?” “I just… lightly tested the penal code…” I lowered my voice. “I kidnapped the CEO of Vance Enterprises’ son.” She was dumbfounded: “How could you even dare?! Holy shit! You… turn back before it’s too late.” At that moment, Leo suddenly ran out and invited me to fold paper boats. So the three of us sat on the hospital bed folding paper boats together. But I was clumsy, so I had to ask Harper: “Is this how you fold this part?” “Fold it over like this… Please, turn back before it’s too late.” “…” A little while later. I asked Harper again: “How do you fold the boat’s canopy in the middle?” “That part should be folded back, then you just pull it and it’s done… Please, turn back before it’s too late.” “…” After folding the paper boats, Leo watched cartoons for a bit, then got tired and fell asleep. It was time for me to head back to the abandoned warehouse. I said goodbye to Harper outside the hospital. Harper was in tears. I just thought she was sad to see me go, but I didn’t expect her to say: “Does this make me an accessory to a crime?” “Don’t worry, I’ll cut ties with you right before I get caught. I won’t drag you down with me.” She looked grave, pointing at an Audi logo, and said: “Don’t those four rings look like two pairs of silver bracelets (handcuffs)? One pair for you, one pair for me… Please, turn back before it’s too late.” “…No, they don’t.” After parting ways with Harper, I headed back to the warehouse. But when I got back, I realized Oliver wasn’t there! I searched the surrounding area several times but still couldn’t find him. He couldn’t have run away, could he?! Was he going to the police?! Just as I was hopping mad and wiping away tears, I saw Oliver dragging a large 24-inch suitcase back from a distance! I was both shocked and delighted: “Where did you go?! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” “I went home for a bit.” “…” “Grabbed some clean clothes.” “…” I wiped away tears and said: “Then why did you come back?” “We have a kidnapping with integrity going on here. If you don’t let me go, I won’t leave. Stop crying, you’re losing all your kidnapper street cred.” Thank goodness Oliver came back, otherwise I would have been so anxious I would have turned myself in. 3 I felt like Oliver had the aura of a perfect househusband. Ever since he brought that massive suitcase back from home, he went into full warehouse-makeover mode. He cleaned the area where he slept, put up some wallpaper, used discarded wood to make a shoe rack, and even strung up a clothesline outside the warehouse. A little later, he was patching up the broken windows and putting up curtains. I watched his flurry of activity, completely dumbfounded. “Oliver, are you planning on living here long-term?” “I’ll leave once you extort the $500,000.” I felt a bit touched. “Thank you for helping me extort your dad.” After he finished putting up the curtains, he was sweating profusely and grabbed his body wash to go take a shower at the spring. My phone buzzed. A quick glance showed it was a text from the bank. Had the $500,000 arrived?! My heart was racing, my hands trembling! I held my breath, anticipating opening the text… Damn it! It was a notification that my Spotify premium subscription had renewed… Just as I was looking up at the sky and sighing, wanting to cry but having no tears left, another ringtone sounded. It wasn’t mine. I followed the sound in confusion and finally located it in Oliver’s suitcase. My heart leapt into my throat. When did he bring a phone?! Had he secretly called the police?! I picked up his phone. The caller ID was a missed call from someone named “Pain Patch.” A moment later, this “Pain Patch” sent a WeChat message: Why aren’t you answering the phone? Immediately followed by another: I sent the medicine over. Remember to pick it up. What medicine? Curious, I scrolled through their chat history… Oh wow, it turns out Oliver had his phone on him this whole time! My fault! I had no experience; I forgot to check if he had a phone! I was so annoyed I wanted to slap myself. His most recent contact with Pain Patch was yesterday: “Oliver, what’s going on with you? You were already home, why did you go back?” “I felt like it.” “Is that guy a kidnapper? Or a kidnapper with a heart of gold? Whatever, suit yourself. By the way, you forgot your medicine. Send me your location, and I’ll mail it to you tomorrow.” Then Oliver sent a location—the nearest Amazon Locker at the foot of the warehouse’s mountain. “Use this address. It’s close, I can make it quick.” “Why don’t you just use your home address?” “No, my house is too far. If she realizes I’m gone, she’ll think I went to the police. She’ll probably cry her eyes out.” “…ojbk [doge emoji]” Suddenly, the phone rang again. I jumped and accidentally answered the call. On the other end, Pain Patch said: “Hey, Oliver, you finally picked up.” I swallowed hard, not knowing what to do. “Oliver, why aren’t you saying anything? Damn it, did something happen?! I’m calling the police right now!” I hurriedly replied: “Ah no, nothing happened.” “??? Are you the kidnapper with a heart of gold?” “Hello, Mr. Pain.” “…My last name is Zhao. You can just call me Dr. Zhao.” I pleaded: “Dr. Pain, please don’t call the police. Oliver said he’d help me extort his dad, and I promise I won’t hurt him.” “I won’t call the police. Put Oliver on the phone.” “He just finished working up a sweat and went to take a shower.” On the other end, Pain Patch coughed awkwardly. “Then I won’t interrupt. You two have fun.” He hung up the phone after saying that. At that moment, Oliver returned. He was holding a dripping pair of boxers and hung them on the clothesline. I ran out clutching his phone. “Oliver, I’m sorry, I snooped through your phone. But why didn’t you tell me you had it hidden? Didn’t we agree to an honest kidnapping?” “I just didn’t want you to misunderstand and think I was going to call the police.” “Oh, well what if you used the GPS to run away?” “Then why don’t we add each other on WeChat? If I run away, I’ll send you a message.” Hmm, he truly had the qualities of a model hostage. It saved me a lot of worry as a kidnapper. Since he had cleaned his sleeping area that day, when night fell, I shamelessly scooted closer to him. “Oliver, you smell so good.” It was true, a very fresh and clean scent. “Your greasy hair smells very unique too.” Ah, that… I awkwardly got up and moved back to my spot. In the dark, he suddenly grabbed my hand. “Come back. Talk to me for a bit.” So I obediently lay back down. “Why did you want to kidnap me?” he asked. “I really need money.” Whenever money was mentioned, I was wide awake. “Oliver, are you your dad’s biological son? Why hasn’t he sent the money yet?” “Him? He’s… he’s probably running around begging everyone he knows to scrape the money together.” The Vance Enterprise is so huge, $500,000 should be pocket change! “Listen to yourself, do you even believe what you’re saying?” “I do.” I believe you… not! I suddenly thought of a question and asked: “Do you think maybe the ransom note I wrote never even reached your dad?” He was resolute: “Impossible.” “Are you lying to me again?” He laughed: “I’m not lying.” “Then you said students don’t lie to students!” “…I can’t say it.” I was a bit angry, but I was so tired that I eventually fell asleep while fuming. But in the middle of the night, I was woken up by the sound of sobbing. I groggily opened my eyes. By the faint moonlight, I saw Oliver hugging his knees, crying. I sat up facing him. I didn’t understand depression, but I could tell he was in a lot of pain. “Oliver, Oliver.” I called out to him, but he seemed to have lost all interest in life, not even batting an eyelid. I didn’t know what to do, so I just sat with him silently. In a flash of inspiration, I remembered Pain Patch. Based on Oliver’s situation, he was probably Oliver’s doctor. I quietly picked up Oliver’s phone, stepped outside the warehouse, and dialed Pain Patch’s number. It connected quickly. “Finally decided to call me? What, did your kidnapper with a heart of gold untie your ropes? Speak, what’s up?” “Hey, Dr. Pain, Oliver is crying, and I don’t know what to do. Please help him!” The more I spoke, the more I wanted to cry, and by the end, my voice was cracking. He was clearly surprised. “It’s you. Don’t panic. Depression patients %#&%!^#. You need to &#• %^!# watch his mood %#& something might happen.” The signal suddenly got very bad, and his voice was breaking up. This led to a miscommunication between us— “What, something might happen?” My heart skipped a beat. “Is Oliver going to commit suicide? I’ve heard some depression patients commit suicide.” “Suicide?! You said %#&#%^ … he wants to commit suicide!” “No, I mean…” “The signal is bad, you’re saying %#& I can’t hear you clearly. You %^#&*… send me the location, I’m coming over right now!” He hung up after saying that. I hesitated. If he knew where we were, would he call the police to catch me? But if something happened to Oliver, I’d really be a sinner! So I steeled myself and sent him the location. I went back into the warehouse. Oliver had changed positions and was still crying. I sat down next to him and held his hand. “Oliver, don’t be scared. Pain Patch is already on his way.” He finally lifted his eyelids to look at me, calling me with a hoarse voice: “Little Sprout…” I didn’t dare leave his side for a second, terrified his mood would dip too low and he’d do something drastic. I don’t know how much time passed, but Oliver finally stopped crying and fell asleep shortly after. Not long after, I faintly heard noise outside the warehouse. I peeked outside and saw a young man with a flashlight. When he got closer, I finally saw his face. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and looked refined and intellectual, about the same age as me. He was cursing under his breath: “What the hell is this dump? You can’t even drive a car up here!” Turns out intellectual guys curse too. He was probably Dr. Pain. He cut straight to the chase: “Where’s Oliver?” “Asleep.” Afraid of waking Oliver up, he tiptoed into the warehouse. Seeing him sleeping soundly, he let out a sigh of relief. I lowered my voice and asked him: “Doctor, is Oliver’s condition very dangerous?” “Moderate depression, but there’s a very good chance he can overcome it.” I’ve heard that people with depression suffer from long periods of low mood. I remembered that when I’m in a bad mood, I can’t eat, don’t want to do anything, feel annoyed and helpless—it’s agonizing. I can’t imagine how Oliver managed to get through it. “Why did you want to kidnap him?” “For money.” “What do you need so much money for? Are you very poor?” I shook my head: “No, it’s my little brother. He’s sick and needs a kidney transplant.” He fell silent for a moment, expressing sympathy for my situation, and then asked which hospital my brother was in. When I told him the hospital’s name, he was a bit surprised. It turned out he worked in the psychiatric department at that very hospital. He warmly told me to contact him anytime if I ran into difficulties in the future. I was so touched that my eyes instantly welled up with tears. He pulled out his phone and opened his WeChat QR code: “Let’s add each other as friends. Contact me anytime if you have a problem.” I wiped my wet eyes, opened WeChat to scan the code, and then heard a loud DING~ I jolted, quickly turned down the volume, and looked back at the sleeping Oliver. Thank goodness I didn’t wake him up. “My last name is Zhao,” he emphasized, afraid I would save his contact as “Pain Patch.” But right after I added Dr. Zhao, Oliver’s ghostly voice came from behind me: “Why are you two adding each other as friends behind my back?” “…” Listen to what he was saying. He made it sound like we were doing something shady. Oliver was mad that Dr. Zhao and I added each other as friends, and he ignored me all night. The next morning, I woke up early. Pain Patch was still sleeping, but Oliver was nowhere to be seen. My heart instantly jumped into my throat. He had a terrible night last night; did he do something drastic? I didn’t have time to think and ran out immediately to look for him. Thank goodness, he was just sitting on a large rock outside the warehouse. I let out a huge sigh of relief. I walked up behind him and saw him playing on his phone… That was my freaking phone! I saw him open WeChat, pin “Oliver” to the top, then find “Dr. Zhao” and hit delete without hesitation. I swear to God… I clenched my fists. My knuckles were turning white. I was just about to lose it when I saw him pull out another phone—Dr. Zhao’s—and expertly delete me from it. I gritted my teeth: “Oli-ver!” He jumped in shock, then grabbed the phones and started running. His legs were so long, how could I possibly catch him? Just as I was about to give up and head back, I bumped into someone. I looked up and saw a middle-aged man, looking to be in his fifties, with an ordinary face. Seeing this, Oliver quickly ran over and shielded me behind him. At that moment, Dr. Zhao’s voice came from the warehouse: “Well, well. It was too dark to see clearly yesterday, but look at this! Pots, pans, the whole nine yards! You two setting up house here?!” He stretched as he walked out, but froze when he saw the unfamiliar middle-aged man. That was when I noticed, to my shock, that the stranger had a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder! He immediately aimed the gun at us: “Nobody move! No cops!” Oliver pulled me further behind him, and I was so scared I barely dared to breathe. The man forced us into the warehouse with the gun, confiscated our phones, turned them off, and removed the SIM cards to prevent police tracking. Dr. Zhao swallowed hard, mustered up his courage, and said: “Sir, please let us go. Don’t worry, we absolutely won’t call the police. Besides, we don’t even know you, so we couldn’t give the police any leads anyway.” The man snorted: “Funny. The police have a city-wide APB out on me. Everyone knows who I am, and you expect me to believe you don’t?” He was the ruthless, bloodthirsty killer?! I wanted to cry but had no tears left. Unlucky, incredibly unlucky! Dr. Zhao was silent for a long moment: “I’m a bit of a shut-in. I really don’t recognize you.” “Cut the crap!” The man pointed at me, then at the ropes on the floor. “You, tie them up.” I didn’t dare disobey. I picked up the ropes and tied Dr. Zhao and Oliver back-to-back. Then the man picked up another rope and tied me up like a trussed turkey. While tying me up, he felt the unmailed ransom note Oliver had helped me write in my pocket. He stared at me in disbelief: “You’re in the business too?” I nodded. He put the letter away: “I was just worrying about having no money for the getaway. I’ll take this $500,000!” Now I really wanted to cry. I had worked so hard, and now my payday was flying away. “Give me the card.” I stammered: “It’s in the pink backpack in the corner.” He walked over, roughly dumped out the contents of the bag, and found the bank card. “PIN.” I told the truth: “My birthday.” “…How the hell am I supposed to know what day your birthday is!” At that moment, Oliver suddenly spoke up: “There’s no money on the card. Taking it is useless.” The man spat: “No money? Are you little punks messing with me?!” “But I can help you call my dad and extort him.” The man was suspicious: “You’re trying to pull a fast one, aren’t you?” “Aren’t you trying to get money for your getaway? I’m paying for my safety. Once you get the money, you have to let us go.” The man still didn’t believe him. “You took our phones, so we can’t call the police. If we really wanted to call the police, we’d have to go to the station ourselves. By the time we file a report, you’ll be long gone.” The man seemed swayed. He weighed his options and finally said: “Fine. But no phone calls. God knows what tricks you’ll play on the phone. Send a text. I’ll send it from your phone myself.” Oliver agreed without hesitation. After the man sent the text from Oliver’s phone, he immediately turned it off and removed the SIM card.

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At the dinner table, there she was—the female “bro” I had never met, sitting right next to my husband. When she hugged his arm for the fourth time, I threw up all over the floor. My husband was frantic, patting my back and trying to help me catch my breath. But his “bro” just raised an eyebrow, crossed her arms, and scoffed: “Well, Arthur, you certainly know how to pick a wife. What a buzzkill.” Oh, I see. A classic “Pick Me” girl. But what she didn’t know was… When it comes to playing the innocent victim, I wrote the damn book. 01 The atmosphere in the private dining room plunged into a bizarre, suffocating awkwardness. Arthur frowned. “Chloe, stop talking nonsense.” His hand kept gently patting my back. Chloe lowered her voice a fraction. “I’m just saying, back when you and I would drink all night, and wake up in the same bed, I never threw up like this.” Immediately, people in the room tried to smooth things over: “Come on, Chloe, that’s ancient history. Don’t listen to her, Evelyn, she’s just got no filter.” Chloe froze for a second. Then, someone slapped a hand over her mouth. She peeled the hand away, pouting. “Can’t a girl even tell the truth? Women are so much drama.” Another wave of nausea hit me, and I started choking, tears welling up in my eyes. When I looked up, my eyes were already red. “Arthur, I’m not trying to ruin everyone’s fun… I’m so sorry…” Arthur looked entirely heartbroken. “Honey, if you’re not feeling well, let’s just go.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe’s expression instantly shift. She grabbed the hem of Arthur’s shirt. “I just got back into the country! You have a wife now, so you can’t hang out with your bros?!” Arthur’s face darkened. “Chloe, my wife is sick.” She craned her neck to look at me. “Evelyn, are you just upset because Arthur and I are so close?” I collapsed weakly into Arthur’s arms. “I really don’t feel well… Excuse me, sister, if you absolutely must keep Arthur here, could you at least let me go home first?” He furrowed his brow. Supporting my waist, he said, “I’m taking you home.” Arthur led me toward the door. “You guys keep drinking. My wife is sick. Next round is on me.” Behind us, the female “bro” sounded genuinely annoyed. “Do people who get married just lose all their freedom? Arthur, you are such a buzzkill!” Arthur didn’t even break his stride. He pulled me into the car and called a designated driver in one smooth motion. Once in the car, he rubbed my back soothingly. “Evelyn, are you still feeling sick? Should we go to the hospital?” The cool night air had significantly quelled my nausea. I pulled slightly away from him. “When exactly did you and Chloe roll into the same bed?” Arthur froze. He looked away unnaturally. “That was way before I even met you. And I swear, I had no idea she was going to be at the dinner tonight…” He reached for my hand again, his tone pleading. “Besides, we were both blackout drunk that time. Nothing happened, I swear to God!” Just then, the designated driver tapped on the window. Arthur pulled my hand against his chest, looking deeply worried. “Please drive carefully, sir. My wife isn’t feeling well.” 02 The next morning, I was woken up by another wave of nausea. I leaned over the toilet, dry heaving. Arthur immediately came running from the bedroom. “Still feeling sick, honey? I’m going to go buy you some medicine right now!” He scrambled around, frantic. He even forgot his phone on the bed. Right then, his phone started blowing up with notifications. After wiping my mouth, I picked it up. I saw a group chat on iMessage with four people. The girl, whose contact name was “Foam,” was rapid-firing messages into the group: [Wake up, bros! The sun’s shining on your lazy asses!] [I’m going to come around to all your houses to wish you a Happy New Year! Have you guys got my red envelopes ready?] [@Arthur, how’s your precious little wife? Let’s hang out today, just us. And don’t you dare run off again! Your family is such a buzzkill! Or better yet, just leave the wife at home!] [I don’t care, you have to give me a massive red envelope this year! Bigger than your wife’s! Otherwise, your bros will never forgive you!] Arthur came bursting back into the room, beaming. “Honey, I asked the pharmacist, and they said you might be pregnant! Let’s take a test first, and then I’ll take you to the hospital!” His eyes landed on the phone in my hand. His expression turned incredibly stiff. I handed the phone out to him. “Your ‘bro’. She’s asking for a red envelope. Bigger than mine.” I paused for a second. Then added, “She said she wants to hang out tonight. And told you not to bring your wife.” Arthur took the phone awkwardly. “Chloe… she’s just clueless. She’s a tomboy, she speaks before she thinks. Don’t be mad, honey.” I just stared at him quietly. Arthur hesitated for a moment, then held down the voice memo button right in front of me: “Stop talking nonsense. If my wife isn’t going, I’m not going.” 03 I went to the bathroom and took the test with my morning urine. Two pink lines appeared on all of them. Arthur was ecstatic. He picked me up and spun me around, making promises: “Honey, I promise, I’ll never do anything to make you upset again.” “Just focus on being happy and having this baby. From now on, you’re the queen of this house.” He hurriedly drove me to the hospital for a blood test. Once the pregnancy was officially confirmed, he immediately called his mom. “Mom! We’re coming over, I’ve got a huge surprise for you!” The car sped all the way to his parents’ massive house. Arthur grabbed the gift boxes from my hands, his face glowing with joy. Before we even walked through the door, he started shouting: “Mom! I’ve got amazing news!” He had barely stepped into the foyer. A flash of red hurled itself at him, throwing an arm around his neck. “Arthur, what took you so long?! We’ve been waiting forever!” She hung off his neck, one hand sliding inappropriately far down his chest. Then, she locked eyes with me. As if startled, she quickly let go, looking deeply annoyed with herself. “Oh, damn. Force of habit. I forgot you’re a married man now.” Arthur’s clothes were wrinkled from her grabbing him. He subconsciously smoothed his shirt, looking nervously at me. “Evelyn…” Before he could finish his sentence. I walked over and gently flattened his collar. As I did, my eyes welled up with tears. “Sister… do you really hate it when I iron his shirts so perfectly flat?” Chloe was stunned. Her eyes went wide with shock. Arthur had told me before that watching me iron his collar every night was the thing that made him feel the luckiest. Hearing my words, his brow furrowed deeply. “Chloe, you’re an adult now. Stop being so erratic.” At that moment, my mother-in-law came down the stairs. Seeing me, she smiled elegantly. “Evelyn, you’re here.” Arthur picked up the gift boxes that had dropped to the floor. He took my hand and walked toward her. “Mom, you don’t even miss your own son, you just miss Evelyn.” The scene was picture-perfect. A happy, harmonious family. I turned my head. Chloe was staring daggers at me. Her lips were pressed into a thin, tight line. I addressed her directly by name: “Sister Chloe, why do you look so unhappy?” Panic visibly washed over her face. Every eye in the room turned toward her. Chloe stammered, “I… I… Evelyn, you must be seeing things…” 04 At the dinner table. Arthur couldn’t wait to announce the news of my pregnancy. My mother-in-law was overjoyed. On top of the red envelopes she had already prepared, she immediately transferred a massive sum of money to my account right in front of everyone. Chloe’s chopsticks clattered loudly onto the floor. My mother-in-law paused. She frowned slightly. “Chloe, you aren’t getting any younger. You should start thinking about getting married and having kids of your own.” Chloe’s face soured. “Aunt Mary, I’m not in a rush.” My mother-in-law replied casually, “I just heard your mother saying the other day how anxious she is. She’s waiting for us to hold our granddaughters together.” Chloe forced a strained smile. “Aunt Mary, I really don’t mind.” Then, she suddenly looked right at me. “Besides, even if I never have kids, Arthur’s kid can always take care of me when I’m old, right?” My face dropped. But before I could speak, my mother-in-law slammed her juice glass down onto the table. Her face was deadly serious. “Even if you were educated abroad, you shouldn’t make jokes like that.” “Has the culture abroad deteriorated so much that people think it’s acceptable to joke about taking other people’s children?” The more she spoke, the angrier she got. She picked up her phone from the table. “I need to call your mother. She needs to have a serious talk with you about how you speak to people.” This time, Chloe’s face went completely white. She desperately kicked Arthur under the table. “Say something for your bro!” I picked up the toughest, chewiest fried meatball on the table and shoved it directly into Arthur’s mouth. “Hubby, taste this for me~” 05 “Pick Me” girls have one major advantage. They can use their “tomboy,” “carefree,” “one of the guys” label to pretend they don’t understand when people are disgusted by them, and just keep doing whatever they want. Outside the window, fireworks exploded in the sky. A knock came at the door, and Chloe immediately bounced over to open it. Two of Arthur’s childhood friends pushed the door open, greeting everyone with a barrage of New Year’s blessings. Chloe linked arms with one of them. She dragged him over to Arthur and held out her hand. “Arthur, the boys are here to wish you a Happy New Year!” “Wishing you prosperity, now hand over the red envelopes!” Arthur sneaked a nervous glance at me. I linked my arm through Arthur’s and smiled sweetly. “Sister Chloe, is the economy abroad really that bad right now?” The two friends who just walked in froze. I squeezed Arthur’s arm and gently swayed it. “Was it America? I heard they have a huge homelessness problem over there…” Before I finished the sentence, I covered my mouth in feigned shock. “I didn’t mean anything by it, sister! I just heard you just got back from America, and I was just curious…” Chloe’s face turned beet red with rage. She violently shoved away the hand of the friend she had been holding and pointed a trembling finger at me, screaming. “I came here to celebrate the New Year! I am Arthur’s BRO! What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” She kicked over one of the gift boxes the friends had brought. “Arthur, your wife is insulting me and you’re not going to do a damn thing about it?!” I recoiled in terror. Both my hands instinctively flew to cover my still-flat stomach. “Please… please don’t be mad…” Arthur gasped, quickly wrapping his arms around me to steady me as I stepped back. He glared at Chloe, his eyes flashing with genuine anger. “Chloe! She’s pregnant!” Chloe’s eyes were red with fury. One of the friends, Liam, tried to play peacemaker. “Chloe, it’s the New Year, let’s not get angry.” Her lips were trembling. She took a step back, right into Liam’s arms. “Arthur, everyone else gets married and stays the same! But the second you get married, you let your bros get treated like garbage?!” Arthur looked miserable. He looked at her, then looked at me. He was trapped. I bit my lip. “Sister Chloe, you just really hate the sight of me, don’t you…” I tugged gently on Arthur’s wrist. “Sister Chloe seems to have misunderstood me… Arthur, could you please explain it to her…” As I spoke. I let go of his hand and subtly wiped away a completely non-existent tear. My nose was perfectly pink. I looked at her, hesitant. “Is it because I’m not good at expressing myself? Did I say something to upset you…?” After I said that. The living room fell into a bizarre, heavy silence. Arthur wrapped his arm tightly around my waist. “It’s fine, honey. They’re just overreacting.” 06 Liam was the ultimate compromiser. He dragged Chloe outside, and within a few minutes, he had calmed her down. The two of them hauled several cases of liquor out of the trunk of his car. Chloe slapped the top of one of the boxes, looking incredibly smug. “I specifically told Liam to bring these for you! See? Only your bros actually care about what you want.” I slowly descended the stairs from the second floor. My tone was soft and delicate. “Hubby, the bedroom is so cold…” Every single person on the couch turned to look at me. Arthur hurried over and soothingly stroked my cheek. “Honey, go turn the heater on in the room first. Once they’ve had enough, I’ll come right upstairs to be with you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe aggressively opening bottles of alcohol on the couch, frantically shooting pointed looks at the two friends. She said loudly, dripping with sarcasm: “If you’re pregnant, you should stay upstairs and rest! Why do you have to come down and interfere with the men?” “Arthur, your wife is seriously high maintenance!” Liam quickly covered her mouth. Arthur looked deeply conflicted. “Evelyn, it’s so late… why don’t you… go back upstairs for a bit?” He lowered his voice, pleading: “I’ll get rid of them as fast as I can.” My heart stopped for a second. Something heavy settled in my chest, slowly sinking. 07 The noise coming from the living room downstairs was loud. Four people—three guys and one girl. They drank and hollered well past midnight. Chloe’s cheeks were flushed pink as she suggested playing a game. Truth or Dare, of course. She “lost” the very first round. Liam laughed mischievously: “Then you have to choose someone to kiss! We never got to see you guys when you used to sleep in the same bed! We gotta get a front-row seat this time!” The atmosphere was rowdy. Chloe, her eyes blurry with alcohol, grabbed Arthur by the collar and pulled him toward her. Arthur looked hesitant, his eyes darting around. “Chloe, you’ve had too much to drink…” Before he could finish his sentence, she crashed her lips fiercely against his. The security camera footage I was watching on the second floor was high definition. I could clearly see a pink tongue sliding back and forth where their mouths met. One full minute. They finally broke apart, looking reluctant. Chloe giggled, her words slurring slightly: “I bit your lip and made it bleed. Let your wife see that. You were always mine first.” I saw it with absolute clarity. Arthur’s hands, which had been hanging limply by his sides the whole time, seemed to suddenly regain sensation. He reached up and cupped the back of Chloe’s head. He scolded her, but his tone was affectionate: “You never behave.” I silently closed the live feed on my phone. The bitter ache in my heart completely vanished. I suddenly realized something. Arthur. He wasn’t the man I thought he was. I used to think he was just a bit oblivious when it came to boundaries, but at least he shared fifty percent of my mother-in-law’s DNA. I didn’t expect him to be as ruthless or decisive as her. I just needed him to not be a philandering scumbag like his father. I never imagined. I really, truly never imagined. 08 Early morning. The sky was just beginning to lighten. They finally called it a night. The mattress beside me dipped. The man next to me, reeking of alcohol, wrapped his arms around my waist. “Honey, don’t be mad. They just wouldn’t let me leave…” “I love you…” Before he could even finish the sentence. He was snoring heavily. I peeled his arms off me and moved as far away as possible. I opened the security camera app and watched the playback. After that first kiss, Chloe proceeded to “lose” almost every single round. She went down the line, exchanging saliva with every single one of her “bros.” Including Arthur. She lost two more times. The penalty for the dare was for the guys to reach under her shirt and unhook her bra. The scene was completely debauched. Even on fast-forward, you could tell everyone involved was having the time of their lives. I was suddenly incredibly thankful. Ever since my mother-in-law had a minor stroke a while back, I immediately had security cameras installed all over the first floor. However, I had never mentioned it to Arthur. 09 They finally woke up in the afternoon. There were a lot of elderly people in the neighborhood where they grew up. According to the local tradition, they had to go door-to-door to wish the elders a Happy New Year. Chloe was incredibly enthusiastic about organizing it. When she looked at me, her eyes carried a faint, unmistakable glint of contempt. I understood that look perfectly. See? The man you treat like a treasure is still easily caught in my trap. I pretended to be completely oblivious. I smiled back at her. Arthur suddenly hugged me from behind. “Honey, we drank a little too late last night. Please don’t be mad. I love you the most.” I frowned. I instinctively pried his hands off me. Arthur froze. But he recovered quickly and started coaxing me: “Honey, don’t be mad. It was just once for the New Year. I promise I won’t drink with them like that again, okay?” He hugged me again. From the other side of the room, Chloe yelled, “Hey! Arthur! Stop being so gross and get over here for the picture!” “Coming!” Arthur yelled back. He reached out to pull me along. “Please, honey, just give me some face right now. When we get home, I’ll buy you that bag you wanted.” He dragged me into the middle of the group. I suddenly suggested, “Let me take the picture! I’m not very photogenic anyway.” Arthur looked slightly taken aback. But Chloe immediately ran over and squeezed right next to Arthur. “Fine, you take it! But make sure you turn the beauty filter on! Make us look good!” She was loud and boisterous. Grinning from ear to ear, she threw her arm around Arthur’s shoulder and threw up a peace sign at me. I snapped five photos in a row. I told the childhood friends that I would create a group chat via airdrop right then and there to share the photos. Seeing the group chat immediately swell to 30+ people—because the wives and girlfriends of the other guys had also joined—I instantly sent the photos I had just taken. However. Sent alongside them were the video clips from last night’s security footage. To make it perfectly clear for everyone. I had selected the most exciting scenes and spent quite a bit of time editing them together. Very quickly. A scream erupted from the couch area: “Evelyn! What the hell is this?!” “Recall it! Recall the message right now!” In the crowd, the sharp sound of a slap echoed. Arthur’s face turned ashen. He sprinted toward me. “Honey! Honey, we were just drunk…” “I swear to God, there is absolutely nothing going on between me and Chloe! We didn’t do anything! I swear!” He was spinning in circles, frantic with panic. But he still grabbed my arm and begged: “Please, just recall the video first, okay? It’s not just me in there, it’s Liam, and Chloe, and the others!” “Evelyn, this isn’t the time or place to make a scene.” Chloe also came jogging over to me. “Evelyn! You did this on purpose! You did this on purpose, didn’t you?!” “How can a woman be so vicious and calculating?! We were just playing a game between bros, and you actually kept evidence?! Recall it! Recall it right now!” The living room. Was in absolute chaos. But I looked even more panicked than they did. “I didn’t do it on purpose! What do I do?! The time limit passed, I can’t recall it…!”

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It all started with something incredibly small. After Mia finished introducing herself to the class, our homeroom teacher was looking around, trying to figure out where to seat her. Oliver raised his hand and said, “Mr. Davis, she can sit next to me.” A collective “Ooooh” went up from the class. Then, eyes started darting toward me, some subtle, some blatant, curious to see my reaction. Everyone knew Oliver and I had practically grown up together. Everyone also knew that every time seats were reassigned after exams and I asked if we could sit together, he always made some excuse about preferring to sit alone and turned me down. I looked up at Oliver. He didn’t notice my gaze; he was too busy exchanging a knowing smile with Mia as she looked out from the front of the classroom. Watching that scene unfold, for some reason, I suddenly felt deeply, bone-tired. 01 The teacher left after Mia took her seat. It was a passing period, so the classroom quickly grew loud again. I could hear the whispers. I could feel the glances shifting from Mia to Oliver, and finally, inevitably, landing on me. I kept my head down, focusing on my work, completely ignoring the stares. It wasn’t until Mia finished unpacking her bag, turned around, and smiled at me brightly that I finally looked up. “Serena! It’s been so long,” she said, her voice warm and familiar, acting as if the ugly fallout between us two years ago had never happened. I didn’t look at Oliver sitting next to her. I kept my eyes fixed entirely on Mia. Polite, distant, and perfectly composed, I gave her a small nod. “It has.” Before she could react, I looked back down at my Physics homework. My complete lack of interest in catching up was glaringly obvious. Mia, who was always excellent at reading a room, knew when to back off. She turned back around, abandoning her usual act of pretending everything was perfectly fine. Chloe, who sat next to me, was practically vibrating out of her seat. She looked like she was dying to know what was going on, but the bell rang. Plus, the people involved were sitting right in front of us; even a whisper would be heard. So, she passed me a note. It read: WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!?!?! I could practically feel her desperation through the sheer number of exclamation marks. I crumpled the note in my hand and glanced at the row in front of me. Oliver and Mia had their heads close together. Oliver was pointing at something in the textbook for our next class, talking to her in a low voice, probably explaining where we were in the syllabus. The angle of his profile looked so incredibly gentle. Oliver rarely showed that kind of patience. Most of the time, he was aloof and easily annoyed with people. I remembered a time when I missed a few days of school because of a bad fever. When I came back, he was helping me catch up on Physics. After barely explaining two concepts, he got frustrated, frowning as he said, “Serena, how can you be this slow?” I wasn’t slow; he just didn’t have any patience. I used to think that was just how he was—impatient with everyone. But looking at him now, I realized he wasn’t impatient. He just wasn’t patient with me. 02 The next class was AP Calculus. As the period was winding down, Mr. Harris called my name. “Serena, could you go to my office and grab those two stacks of practice tests? Pass them out; they’re homework for tonight. We’ll go over the examples tomorrow morning.” I nodded and stood up to leave. Chloe immediately jumped up too. “Mr. Harris, I’ll go help Serena.” It wasn’t until we were out in the hallway that she finally lowered her voice and asked, “Serena, what is the deal with you, Oliver, and the new transfer student?” I paused. I knew Chloe was just worried about me. After all, my crush on Oliver was the worst-kept secret in school. Oliver and I lived next door to each other. In the eyes of our parents, we were childhood sweethearts. I had liked him for as long as I could remember. Oliver was popular. He was handsome, got great grades, and had a good reputation. He also had this laid-back, effortlessly cool vibe that made him incredibly well-liked. A teenage crush is a funny thing. No matter how hard you try to hide it or act careful, your feelings always manage to leak out through your eyes. Everyone could see it. They teased us, shipped us, linked our names together constantly. Oliver definitely knew, too. Sometimes, he’d even lean into the teasing, making harmless little jokes that only fueled the rumors. It felt like this unspoken, mutual understanding. A quiet kind of intimacy. But we never actually talked about it. Aside from focusing on getting into a good college, I honestly didn’t fully understand Oliver. There was a time when he was so gentle with me it was confusing. But the moment I gathered the courage to ask him what it meant, he’d turn cold and smoothly change the subject, making it seem like I had just misunderstood everything. I’m not the type to force things or chase after someone who doesn’t want me. When he pulled away, I naturally pulled back too. But the second I created distance, he’d start paying attention to me again. Chloe once told me that Oliver just liked the attention I gave him. He liked knowing I liked him. He didn’t want to date me, but he didn’t want to lose me, either. I never really understood that. In my world, you either like someone or you don’t. If you like them, you date them; if you don’t, you make it clear. But I have to admit, Oliver’s hot-and-cold routine made it impossible for me to fully categorize him as ‘just a friend.’ What really gave me hope happened recently, right after our midterms. My grades were strong across the board, but my Chemistry score was a little low. We were about to choose our tracks for senior year—STEM or Humanities. My counselor had even pulled me aside to suggest I lean towards STEM, but I personally preferred Humanities because I wanted to go into international relations. But Oliver said to me, “Serena, choose the STEM track.” His tone was casual, but it felt like a promise. “Let’s go to the same college.” I froze at the time. My ears turned red, and I tried to play it cool as I asked, “Is that a promise?” He just looked at me with a smile, not saying a word, and my hope was instantly reignited. I was like a fish. Every time I felt like I was suffocating and about to give up, he’d splash a little water on me, just enough to keep me alive. But now that Mia was back, I guess he didn’t feel like sparing me even a few drops of water anymore. I sighed, and Chloe looked at me with concern. I didn’t want to hide anything from her. I knew she cared. But honestly, the history between me, Mia, and Oliver wasn’t as complicated as she probably thought. 03 Mia and I went to the same middle school. She transferred into our class in the middle of 8th grade because her dad got a new job in the city. By that time, friend groups were pretty solidified. Plus, Mia was really pretty, so it was hard for her to fit in at first. I was generally well-liked, easy to talk to, and got good grades, so Mia gravitated towards me. She sat diagonally behind me, separated by an aisle. One morning, I didn’t have time for breakfast, and by the time homeroom was over, my stomach was growling loudly. I asked my desk mate if she had any snacks. Somehow, Mia heard me. She handed over her muffin, her eyes curving into a sweet smile. “I happened to buy an extra one this morning. You can have it.” I felt a bit awkward, but later on, she’d come up to me with this completely innocent vibe, asking questions about assignments. I always patiently helped her. Eventually, whenever there was a group project or an event, I’d bring her along, and that’s how she became part of my friend group. And that’s how she met Oliver. Back then, Oliver and I were truly just “childhood friends.” Although we hadn’t defined anything, just like now, he wasn’t hot and cold back then. If he skipped class to play video games, he’d bring back my favorite fries. He’d cover for me so I could sneak out to concerts. Once, during P.E., I sprained my ankle. Our classroom was on the top floor, and he piggybacked me up and down the stairs every single day. He stayed by my side through all my physical therapy. In those countless moments where I felt like I couldn’t handle the emotional whiplash of liking him anymore, I’d pick up one or two of those memories. Those hazy, beautiful moments became my motivation to keep going, making me believe that my obvious crush might actually lead somewhere. The turning point in our relationship probably started when Mia transferred to our school. Mia had moved around a lot as a kid because of her dad’s job, so she was much more socially adept and smooth than the rest of us. She was incredibly good at reading people. So, very quickly, I considered her a real friend. At that time, I hung out with Oliver a lot, and naturally, she got to know him through me. But when the three of us were together, she rarely spoke. She usually just sat quietly and listened. She seemed so harmless. It took me a long time to realize that whenever she and I were alone, the conversation would somehow always veer towards Oliver. His likes, his dislikes, embarrassing stories from his childhood, what made him happy or angry… Through me, Mia learned everything there was to know about Oliver, without ever having to spend much time with him one-on-one. She even teased me about my obvious crush on him, acting just like any other supportive best friend. There isn’t much to say about what happened next. A new movie starring an actor Oliver liked came out. I asked him to go see it, but he said he was busy. Later, my friends dragged me to the mall. By coincidence, we ended up near the movie theater, just in time to see Oliver and Mia walking out. Unlike the usual quiet dynamic when it was the three of us, Mia was laughing beautifully, and Oliver, looking unusually gentle, was gesturing animatedly as they talked, probably discussing the movie plot. I had never known that the usually quiet Mia had such an energetic side. I also never realized that the two of them were that close behind my back. I froze. It was too late to hide. When Mia and Oliver looked up and saw me, Mia’s face stiffened. She looked briefly embarrassed, but quickly recovered, flashing her usual smile and saying hi. Oliver, on the other hand, immediately started making excuses: “Mia likes this actor too. Since you don’t really like him, I just came with her.” Mia. Such an intimate way to say her name. My gaze shifted from his face to Mia standing behind him. I noted her unnatural expression, but I didn’t call her out. Because I clearly remembered that when I first told her about Oliver’s favorite actor, she looked confused and asked me who he was and if he had been in anything famous. There isn’t much else to the story. Even though she knew I liked Oliver, and even though she used me to get close to him and gather information, they weren’t actually dating at the time. She had the right to do whatever she wanted. I was just disgusted by her manipulation. I’m not a pushover. After that, I naturally distanced myself. I stopped hanging out with her, and my attitude grew cold. I didn’t say anything publicly, but I actively avoided any gathering she was at. The friends who used to invite her only did so because of me. After I bailed a few times, my friends—though they didn’t know what happened—stopped inviting her too. “She’s nice, gentle, and always says the right thing, but for some reason, she just feels… off. Like she’s not genuine.” “Serena, weren’t you guys super close? You brought her breakfast, let her copy your homework, tutored her… why are you shutting her out now?” I shook my head and avoided the topic. I feel like I was raised well enough to know that no matter what, I don’t like talking behind people’s backs. It’s petty. I never expected that one day, Oliver would be the one to confront me about her. He looked at me with an icy, disappointed expression, asking through gritted teeth, “Serena, are you the one leading the charge to isolate Mia?” Even though it was phrased as a question, the certainty in his tone told me he had already found me guilty. I felt like I was being accused out of nowhere. But my temper is usually pretty even, so I patiently asked, “What makes you think that?” He asked back, “Then why has everyone around you stopped talking to her?” That was probably his version of being diplomatic. I don’t know what Mia said to him, but my pent-up anger exploded. I looked at Oliver and said coldly, “I don’t respect her character.” What followed was an argument I’ve mostly forgotten. It was probably Oliver desperately trying to convince me that Mia was a great girl and that I shouldn’t be prejudiced against her. That was the beginning of the end. Later, Mia even came to apologize to me. But her apology felt more like a thinly veiled taunt, a way to show off. I looked at the smugness hidden beneath her apologetic smile, clutched my books, shoved her lightly, and said coldly, “Get out of my way.” I really didn’t use much force, but she stumbled backward as if she lost her balance, hitting the wall hard. Her eyes went red as she asked, “Serena, do you really hate me that much?” Before I could answer, someone yanked me hard from behind. Caught off guard, I almost fell. I turned around to see Oliver. He looked at me coldly, acting like a white knight defending Mia. “She sincerely apologized. What more do you want?” He paused, then added, “Besides, she didn’t do anything wrong in the first place.” My wrist throbbed from his grip. The books I was holding scattered across the floor, bruising my foot. Mia nervously tugged at the hem of Oliver’s shirt, telling him not to fight with me because of her. Such hypocrisy. I was young and hot-headed then. Even though angry tears welled in my eyes, I stubbornly refused to let them fall. I looked coldly at Mia and said bluntly, “Mia, you are truly disgusting.” Then I turned to Oliver and said, “Oliver, you’re an idiot.” I don’t know how Mia acted around Oliver in private, but I can imagine. From me, she knew Oliver inside and out. So she always knew exactly how to appeal to his tastes, possessing an uncanny, “perfectly timed” alignment with all his preferences. Oliver took those coincidences as fate, and his feelings for her grew. Even if he later realized that everything she knew was just information she gleaned from me, Oliver probably just chalked it up to her being jealous. Mia, the beautiful, perfect girl in his mind. After that, Oliver and I basically stopped talking. He and Mia grew closer, and the bond that used to be ours was replaced by hers. He studied with her, went to museums with her, and took her to our secret spot. One day, I pushed open the door to the school roof and saw them sitting side-by-side, looking at the sky and eating ice cream. They looked so comfortable together. After that, we just ignored each other. I remember for a very long time, Oliver and I didn’t exchange a single word. Until the beginning of freshman year of high school, when Mia moved back to her home state. I forget who gave who the out. Time has a way of blurring things, and distance does too. Oliver and I slowly went back to normal, even though the cracks were still there. We tacitly agreed never to bring up Mia, to the point where it felt deliberate. Until today, when Mia suddenly reappeared in our world.

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The day I announced my retirement from Hollywood, paparazzi caught Arthur Sterling entering and leaving a luxury hotel with his “One That Got Away”—the legendary muse, Seraphina Rose. The internet was ruthless. “No matter how beautiful the trophy bird is,” one viral comment read, “she’ll always have to fly away when the original muse returns.” Later, as I was leaving New York, Arthur attended the premiere of Seraphina’s comeback film. A reporter asked him, “Word is Melody St. Claire dropped out of her latest role to enter an arranged marriage back home. Is it true?” Arthur let out a sharp, mocking scoff, his face full of arrogant certainty. “She wouldn’t dare.” At twenty, Melody St. Claire wouldn’t have dared. But Melody is twenty-seven now. In this short life, I’ve decided to run toward someone who loves me, rather than the man I used to chase. 1 “Give the lead role in this movie to Seraphina.” “I’m not going to ask you a second time. Are we clear?” Arthur’s voice was cold, like a New York winter. He was clearly agitated; his silver fork clattered against the fine china, a harsh, grating sound in the private dining room. My throat felt tight. I forced myself to swallow the tears. My phone was buzzing incessantly on the table. I stood up to take the call outside, and as I opened the door, I ran straight into Seraphina. She smiled at me, radiant and ethereal. “I heard it’s your birthday, Melody. Arthur invited me to celebrate with you.” Around her neck hung a sapphire pendant—the one Arthur had bought at a high-stakes auction just two days ago for a record price. It was stunning. And it stung. I nodded and brushed past her to find a quiet corner. The caller was my older brother, Nathan. His voice was warm, tinged with his usual lazy charm. “Happy birthday, superstar.” “Grandfather is back in the States. Brace yourself; that family arrangement we talked about… it’s back on the table.” The arrangement had been set years ago between our grandfather and his old business partner. Since Grandfather went abroad for his health, it hadn’t been mentioned—until now. I looked down, my voice quiet but firm. “Nathan, I’ll do it. I agree to the marriage.” “I know the Vance family has a lot of rules. I’ll settle my affairs here quickly.” “And then… I’m leaving the industry.” 2 When I returned to the room, Seraphina was already sitting intimately close to Arthur. A perfectly cut piece of steak sat on her plate, placed there by his hand. “Melody, Arthur said you’re willing to give me the lead in The Last Song.” “I know the role might not mean much to an established star like you, but for my comeback, it’s the crucial first step.” “Melody, thank you.” Her tone was airy. I didn’t hear a shred of gratitude; I only heard the triumph. I bit my lip to speak, but Arthur cut me off. “Why are you thanking her?” “It’s just one role. Besides, you were always the better fit for the character.” The indulgence in his eyes was blatant. Shameless. My brother’s words echoed in my ear: “Melody, Arthur Sterling isn’t a good man. If he won’t go public, if he won’t commit, he doesn’t love you enough.” It wasn’t that he didn’t love me enough. He didn’t love me at all. Nathan was just trying to save my pride. I forced a smile. “Director Miller invited me personally for this film.” “I don’t have the right to ‘give’ it away. Mr. Sterling should know that no one interferes with Miller’s casting.” Arthur shot me a look, his expression turning frigid. “Then you resign from the project.” 3 I had been in the industry for seven years. I went from indie films to the silver screen. Arthur had watched me grow every step of the way. He knew better than anyone that this film was supposed to be my masterpiece, my legacy. But now… It suddenly didn’t seem that important. Not because the role didn’t matter, but because Arthur didn’t matter. I stayed silent for a long time until Arthur’s impatient voice cut through again. “Is there a problem?” I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “No problem.” Before re-entering the room, I had already called Director Miller to apologize. He tried to talk me out of it. I had spent three years in a local theater troupe honing my craft just for this role. Arthur frowned slightly when I didn’t fight back. He seemed surprised I had given in so easily. “Melody, don’t be dramatic.” “I’ve already looked at a few other scripts for you. You can pick one in a couple of days.” A slap, then a piece of candy. Ever since Seraphina came back, Arthur had been using this tactic to strip away almost all my resources. If she wanted it, I had to give it up. Once, during a heated argument, I asked him, “What if one day she wants you? Would I have to give you up to her, too?” Arthur had said, “She wouldn’t.” Only now did I realize what he meant. She wouldn’t have to ask. He was already hers. 4 As we left the restaurant, the first snow of the season began to fall over Manhattan. Arthur naturally took off his coat and draped it over Seraphina’s shoulders. I looked away instantly. Arthur cleared his throat, sounding slightly uncomfortable as he tried to explain. “Seraphina’s health is—” “It doesn’t matter, Arthur.” “My car is here. I’ll head out first.” My black SUV pulled up, followed by a familiar sports car. I cut him off with a smile; I felt strangely more peaceful than I had moments ago. As the door opened, Seraphina called out to me. “Melody, come with us.” “Let Arthur drop you off. You’ve helped me so much; I really should thank you properly.” She playfully nudged Arthur. “Is this how you treat your girlfriend? You don’t even know how to walk her to her door.” “You’re just as immature as when we were dating.” Arthur looked at Seraphina, his eyes filled with a tenderness I had never seen. “No need.” “I’ll drop you off first.” He took the keys from the valet, never once glancing at me. Seraphina kept teasing him, the perfect picture of a bickering couple. “I’ve told you so many times, girls need to be pampered.” “Arthur, do you ever listen to a word I say?” As the door closed, I let out a light laugh. It wasn’t just her words. She was the only one he ever listened to. 5 Seraphina was Arthur’s first love. In our third year together, he had whispered her name in a drunken stupor. She was the “Golden Girl” of Hollywood who had hit her peak and then suddenly retired and moved to Europe, vanishing from the map. That night, I didn’t sleep at all. When Arthur sobered up the next morning, he held me and confessed everything. “I didn’t know what love was back then.” “Even if I saw her again, I’d only feel a sense of debt toward her.” So they met. I don’t know what happened between them, but after that, Arthur became even more generous with me. He threw money at my career, securing every luxury brand deal and high-profile role. He said he loved watching me act, loved seeing me full of confidence in front of the camera. Just like when I was twenty, on the day of my first audition. Arthur, the lead investor, had ignored everyone’s objections to give me the lead role. The movie became a sleeper hit. My agent took me to a high-stakes industry mixer, telling me to thank the investors. I didn’t know my drink was spiked. In my panic, Arthur had suddenly burst through the door. That night. Arthur and I did everything we should and shouldn’t have done. The “love at first sight” from the audition flooded my heart, and I was completely lost. Back then, he built me up. Just like he was building up Seraphina now. 6 I went back to the penthouse Arthur had bought for me. Since Seraphina’s return, he barely came over. Once or twice, it was only because he had taken another contract or role from me. He’d tell me to wait for him at the apartment. Once he heard me say “it’s fine” in person, he’d leave in a hurry. But today. He probably wouldn’t come. Before going upstairs, I had the building manager bring up several large packing boxes. I turned on some music and began to slowly pack my things. I took down the photos from the display case one by one. Arthur never took photos of me. The ones I had were mostly official press shots from events we attended together, but I had cherished them like treasure. By the time the boxes were taped shut, Arthur had already sent several scripts to my email. He sent a follow-up text: “I’m going to be out of town for the next two weeks. I might not be able to reply to messages promptly.” “Once you’ve picked a script, contact my assistant directly.” “Happy birthday. Goodnight.” I curled my lip and didn’t reply. Before leaving the apartment, I deleted my fingerprints from the smart lock. I left the keys and the keycard in the tray on the foyer table. The night security guard looked at me uncertainly. “Are you leaving all of this behind?” “Yeah, I don’t need it anymore.” “I’ll have to trouble you to help me dispose of the rest. Thanks.” 7 On the day the cast for The Last Song was officially announced, Arthur, who was still out of town, actually called me. “Are none of those scripts to your liking?” “My assistant says you haven’t contacted him.” His voice was neutral, devoid of emotion. My brother, Nathan, was leaning back in the passenger seat of my car. Hearing Arthur’s voice, his brow twitched with annoyance. “I’m taking a break from acting for a while. I have other plans.” “I’m driving, I have to go.” Arthur didn’t say much. But before the call ended, a faint woman’s voice drifted through the car’s speakers. “Is Melody still upset about the movie?” “Arthur, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” I took a deep breath, meeting my brother’s probing gaze. “Nathan, I can handle the contract terminations myself.” “Don’t worry.” Because of Arthur’s ego, the business clauses in my contracts were mostly in my favor. Even if I breached them, the fallout wouldn’t be too bad. “If you need anything, call your brother.” “Drop me at the next corner. I’m meeting Silas…” Nathan nodded, but his voice trailed off. He looked out the window with a bit of awkwardness. “Silas Vance just happened to be in the city for business.” “Once you’ve finished up here, we’ll head back to Charleston together.” 8 By the time I finished all the paperwork to terminate my contracts, Arthur still hadn’t heard the news. In the past, he’d know the second anything happened to me, fearing I’d suffer or get hurt. The day I decided to retire, I was worried Arthur might try to block me. But as I drafted the official announcement for social media, I laughed. I was overthinking it. I felt a sense of relief; this was for the best. An ambiguous beginning, a clean ending. The post was scheduled. When I got out of the shower, there were several missed calls. From my parents. From industry friends. From producers and directors I had worked with. My brother’s call came through too, his voice urgent. “Are you home?” “Is it a good time? I’m coming over now.” It wasn’t until Nathan showed up at my door, drenched in sweat, that I realized the internet had exploded. Photos of Arthur and Seraphina entering and leaving hotels and tourist spots in Europe had been leaked at the exact moment I announced my retirement. The internet was having a field day. “No matter how beautiful the trophy bird is, she has to make room for the original muse.” I stared at the screen, at that top-voted comment. My heart felt surprisingly still. “Melody, are you okay?” “I’ve already called people to take the posts down. Don’t let it get to you.” I wanted to say it wasn’t necessary. But the Vance family was old money, deeply involved in the community. I might not care, but they would. And I truly didn’t want anything to do with Arthur Sterling ever again.

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I decided to go all out and hide my pregnancy to join a reality dating show. I thought I could just openly flirt with some cute, younger guys on the show. But I never expected a certain someone to follow me there, corner me, and look at me with red eyes: “Whose child is it?” 1 Ethan and I got together because of an arranged marriage between our families. He was a famous, A-list actor in the entertainment industry, while I was just a D-list “flower vase” – someone with a pretty face but no acting skills, constantly plagued by scandals. Because of my looks, many actresses in the industry were jealous of me and secretly (and sometimes not-so-secretly) boycotted me. As a result, my reputation in the industry was never great. Ethan and I had a secret marriage. We kept things polite and respectful after tying the knot, but an unexpected accident led to us sleeping together once. And it was that very accident that somehow got me pregnant. Staring at the ultrasound report in my hand, I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. Was this guy’s aim really that good?! My hand rested on my stomach. Even though it was only a month along, knowing there was a baby inside me triggered a strange, wonderful shift in my mindset. I pulled out my phone, ready to share the news with Ethan, only to be bombarded by a massive wave of entertainment news notifications. #A-List Actress Audrey Hayes Returns, A-List Actor Ethan Carter Personally Picks Her Up From the Airport# #What a Perfect Match! Actor Ethan Carter and Actress Audrey Hayes Look So Good Together!# I clicked on the article and saw a photo of my husband, Ethan, walking side-by-side with a young woman. The woman was beautiful, with long hair cascading down her back and a gentle smile on her fair, delicate face. Countless netizens were commenting on how perfectly they matched and begging them to get together! I knew about Audrey Hayes. She and Ethan went to the same acting school, and many fans shipped them as a couple. Seeing this photo and the comments seriously pissed me off. I remembered Ethan’s public schedule. A business trip? So his so-called business trip was actually going to pick up another woman? Even though our relationship was mostly formal, that didn’t give him a free pass to betray me. Anger flared up inside me. Suddenly, my phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Hey? Sierra, there’s a small reality dating show, do you want to do it? I know it’s not a major production, but given our current situation, we can’t really afford to be picky…” My manager, Valerie, sounded like she was preparing for a long, arduous persuasion, afraid I’d refuse. But before she could finish, I cut in: “I’ll do it.” “Huh?” Valerie was stunned for a second. I repeated, “I’ll take it. A dating show sounds great, why wouldn’t I do it?” A smile crept onto my face, but it didn’t reach my eyes. I swiped away the tabloid news about Ethan on my screen and shoved the ultrasound report into my bag. 2 Valerie told me the dating show was scheduled to film for two weeks. I packed a few things and flew out to the production set with her. I heard there were going to be six cast members in total: three men and three women, and the whole thing would be live-streamed. To build hype, the production team hadn’t released the official cast list beforehand, meaning we wouldn’t know who else was on the show until we arrived on set. To make a good first impression, I arrived super early, thinking I’d be the first one there. Who knew that as soon as I showed up, a camera would be pointed right at me, followed by the director’s voice: “Let’s welcome our final cast member, Sierra!” Me: “…” I was inwardly sweating dropping, but outwardly, I raised my hand and gave a fake, overly-sweet wave to everyone. “Sierra’s face is literally everything! I love her!” “Ugh, so gross. She’s just a flower vase. What does she have besides a pretty face? Why did the show invite someone like her!” I have excellent eyesight, and I caught the live comments flying across the screen instantly. But my expression didn’t change. I was in the entertainment industry to build character, anyway. I walked into the small house the production team had prepared. There were six chairs, and five were already occupied. B-list heartthrob Liam Davis, whom I had acted with in a drama once, had that classic “golden retriever” boy-next-door look and two cute dimples when he smiled. Sweetheart idol Chloe Miller, who debuted from a survival show, was wearing a pink dress and a messy bun, looking incredibly sweet and approachable. Seeing these two, my expression remained neutral. But when I saw the three people sitting behind them, my eyes widened in shock. Top idol Noah Sterling was winking at me. Beside him was A-list actor Ethan Carter, and A-list actress Audrey Hayes. Wasn’t this supposed to be a small, B-tier dating show? What were these three doing here?! The moment I looked toward Ethan, I met a pair of dark, deep eyes filled with an unreadable emotion. Before I could examine his expression, a figure in white blocked my view. “Since everyone is here, let’s get started.” Audrey casually positioned herself right between Ethan and me. A gentle smile played on her lips. “Audrey is so beautiful! Her smile just melts my heart!” “If we’re talking about looks, I still think Sierra is a level above.” “Sierra is just a flower vase. Please don’t compare her to our Audrey, OK?!” I pulled my gaze away from Ethan and suppressed my shock. I still couldn’t understand why a top-tier actor like him would come on a small show like this. But then it hit me: Ethan was a married man, and he was on a dating show! With Audrey, no less! Were these two trying to date in plain sight?! My face darkened. 3 The grouping began, using a random draw. Noah ended up next to me. I heard him lower his voice and ask, “How have things been lately?” Although his voice wasn’t picked up by his mic, his actions were caught on camera. “Ahhh! What is Noah doing! Why is he talking to Sierra!” “That little bitch! I knew she was a master manipulator!” “Noah, stay away from that woman!” As a top idol, Noah had a massive fanbase of obsessive fangirls. The moment he approached me, the live chat exploded. “Why are you on this show?” I whispered back. “I saw you were doing it, so I tagged along. Sis, your husband sure knows how to play the game. Trying to get paid to date on national TV?” Noah winked at me exaggeratedly. I forgot to mention, my real name is Sierra Sterling, and Sierra is just my stage name. I rolled my eyes at Noah. That was obviously impossible. Ethan might have come on the show to date, but the person he wanted to date definitely wasn’t me. The draw started, and I prayed inwardly that I wouldn’t be paired with Ethan. But they say the more you try to avoid something, the more likely it is to happen. Liam and Chloe were paired up. Noah and Audrey were paired up. And Ethan and I… were paired together. “WTF! How is Ethan not paired with Audrey! I refuse to accept this draw!” “Oh my god, Ethan got paired with that flower vase Sierra? She must be thrilled to death!” I was standing closest to the monitor and saw the comments instantly. I already had this inexplicable anger pent up inside me, probably made worse by the pregnancy hormones. I couldn’t hold it back and snapped directly at the camera: “What do you mean I’d be thrilled to death to be paired with Ethan? Why don’t you say he would be thrilled to death to be paired with me?” As soon as I said that, not only the set but the entire live chat went dead silent. But a second later, an even more intense wave of comments flooded the screen. “Oh my god, is this woman telling a joke? Is she possessed?” “Sierra, do you even know the meaning of the word ‘shameless’?” “Being paired with you, Ethan is probably thinking he has the worst luck in the world. How could he possibly be thrilled?” “…” Just a quick glance at the screen showed a massive wave of insults directed at me. In the past, worried about my reputation, I would act carefully on camera, swallowing a lot of grievances. But now, after clapping back, I felt so much better. Whatever! I don’t rely on the entertainment industry to eat anyway. I’m just here for fun. If I can’t handle it anymore, I’ll just go home and inherit the family fortune! Besides, I’m pregnant now. Holding onto anger is terrible for pregnant women! Once I figured that out, I stopped caring entirely. But to my utter shock, a deep voice echoed my words: “Yes, I’m thrilled to death.” Not only was I stunned, but even the smile on Audrey’s face stiffened. I saw Ethan’s dark, deep eyes staring intently at me, a flicker of an unidentifiable emotion dancing within them. What the hell is this man doing! Before I could recover, I heard a soft, gentle whisper near my ear: “Ethan is still the same as always, stepping in to help people out of awkward situations.” I frowned. Audrey’s overly familiar use of his first name grated on my nerves. Who needs Ethan’s help! 4 After the draw, the directors started assigning tasks. To help the pairs build chemistry and bond, our housing and food would depend on completing tasks. The directors brought us to the edge of a wooded area. The first task was to collect firewood in the woods. The pair that collected the most firewood would get first pick of the houses. The time limit was one hour. When the timer started, I rushed into the woods. Ethan followed behind me at a leisurely pace. I didn’t want to talk to him, so I bent down and started gathering wood. However, mindful of my pregnancy, I didn’t dare move too vigorously or carry too much at once. “You go sit and rest. I’ll get it. It’s dirty out here.” As I was focusing on gathering wood, Ethan’s voice sounded right next to my ear. I straightened up and looked around. Liam and Chloe were working hard nearby. Noah’s team was just Noah working alone. Audrey was sitting on a rock admiring the scenery, showing no intention of getting her hands dirty. “Why isn’t Audrey helping? Why is she just sitting there?” “Gathering firewood is dirty work. Why should our Audrey have to do it?” “Didn’t our Audrey already say she wasn’t feeling well? What’s wrong with resting for a bit?” “The other two actresses are doing it, why can’t Audrey? Just watching Noah do all the work? So high-maintenance.” “If you’re going to participate, then participate. If you can’t, then leave.” I glanced at the live chat. Noah’s fans and Audrey’s fans were tearing each other apart. I glanced at Ethan and scoffed: “What? Want me to draw the fire away from Audrey?” This man was unbelievable! I never realized he was this awful before! Ethan: “?” I turned around, refusing to look at him, and went back to gathering wood. The outer edges of the woods were pretty picked over, so I gradually went deeper in. A rustling sound came from a bush ahead, and I instantly went on high alert. They say there are often wild animals in the woods… could it be a wolf or a bear or something? I looked around. I was the only one in this area. Ugh, I’m scared… Just as I was about to turn and run, a figure burst out of the bushes. “Sis!” Hearing that familiar voice, I jumped, then immediately let out a sigh of relief. I was about to speak when I saw Noah point at the microphone clipped to my shirt. I understood and turned it off. “Sis, here, take all of this.” Noah walked over and shoved all the firewood he had collected into my arms. “Huh? If you give it all to me, what are you going to do?” He was the only one working on his team. “I’ll be fine, sis. I can sleep anywhere. But my sister can’t rough it.” As Noah spoke, he winked at me and blew a kiss. His exaggerated expressions made him look incredibly campy. Knowing that the persona he maintained for his fans was that of a cool, aloof guy, seeing him act like this in front of me was too much. I couldn’t take it and just punched him in the arm: “Talk normally.” Noah howled and dropped the act. But he still insisted on giving me the firewood. Thinking about my brother working so hard while Audrey just sat there watching, I felt a surge of resentment. I didn’t try to give it back and accepted it. Time was almost up, so I headed back to base camp. The massive pile of wood in my arms drew everyone’s attention. The director gave me a close-up shot, and I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve. “Wow, I didn’t expect Sierra to be such a hard worker! With all that wood, she’s definitely getting first place!” “I thought Sierra was just a delicate flower vase, but it turns out… the real delicate flower is someone else.” “Hey, the commenter above me, we already said Audrey isn’t feeling well.” “I didn’t even mention your Audrey. Why are you getting so defensive?” “…” Noah also collected some wood on his way back, but not much. Audrey looked at me, then at him, her face looking a little displeased. She subconsciously asked, “Why did you only get this much?” That complaining tone instantly set off Noah’s fans in the live chat. “Does Audrey have no shame?! Complaining that our Noah didn’t get enough?” “Hahaha! She did absolutely nothing, and she has the nerve to complain about our Noah? Is Audrey a bitch or what?” The moment Audrey said it, she realized her mistake. She quickly tried to backpedal: “Noah, I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t mind what kind of house we stay in…” I rolled my eyes as I listened from the side. I looked around for Ethan and realized that at some point, he had also gathered a massive pile. I had what Noah gave me, but his was all gathered by himself, and it was more than Noah and mine combined. Unsurprisingly, our team took first place. Liam and Chloe took second, and Noah and Audrey took third. There were three types of houses. A nice little two-story house, a single-story ranch, and a small, rustic cabin. Since I was first, I got to choose the best one, so I picked the two-story house. Liam and Chloe chose the ranch. Noah and Audrey had no choice but to take the rustic cabin. That cabin had absolutely nothing inside except a single bed. In contrast, my two-story house had two beds. I naturally wasn’t going to let my brother sleep in the same bed as that woman. Just as I was about to tell Noah to come over tonight, I saw Audrey walk over to Ethan, her eyes brimming with tears. “Ethan, could you guys share a room with me tonight? I haven’t been feeling well lately, and that house is drafty. I’m afraid I’ll catch a cold.” Audrey coughed a few times as she spoke. My expression instantly turned icy when I heard Audrey’s words. If Ethan dared to agree today, I’d pack him up and throw him out! 5 “Sorry, I don’t have the authority to decide.” I was slightly surprised. Ethan actually refused? When I looked over at him, Ethan was already looking at me. I heard him say: “You can ask my partner.” Ethan actually told Audrey to ask me? I was stunned. Audrey’s hands, hanging by her sides, involuntarily clenched into fists. Her face went from pale to green. The public always said she and Ethan had a great relationship, and there were even rumors they were dating. Only Audrey knew that she and Ethan had no special relationship at all. Those rumors were just PR stunts she orchestrated herself. But she and Ethan went to the same acting school, and he had never publicly rejected her or embarrassed her. Now, he was blatantly slapping her in the face. Audrey adjusted her emotions, and I saw her walking toward me. Before she could speak, I quickly called out to Noah: “Noah, do you want to come stay in the two-story house with us tonight?” “Sure thing,” Noah agreed immediately. Audrey froze in her tracks. “Does Sierra have no shame! What is she trying to pull!” “Wow, what a move! Is she trying to keep Audrey from staying there?” “What’s wrong with Sierra? I think she’s great. This is a reward they earned. She can invite whoever she wants.” “Exactly, exactly. Inviting our Noah shows she has great taste. Some people do absolutely nothing and just want a free ride.” In the live chat, Audrey’s fans tried to attack me, but Noah’s fans completely shut them down. “I admit I was a little harsh on Sierra earlier, but looking at it now, she has great taste and knows how to choose.” Audrey’s manager had been monitoring the live chat the whole time. Seeing so many people attacking Audrey, he glared at her, shooting her a warning look. The situation was set. Audrey had no choice but to sleep in the rustic cabin by herself tonight. The next task was to obtain food. Having learned her lesson, Audrey knew she couldn’t just sit around anymore. Otherwise, she’d get roasted even worse. She had originally wanted to portray a delicate, untouchable, pampered persona, but she failed miserably, and her persona completely collapsed. Now, a lot of Noah’s fans were starting to hate Audrey. Noah was a top-tier idol at the peak of his career; he had a massive fanbase. 6 The production team was somewhat generous. The food-gathering task wasn’t too difficult, and we finished it quickly. Maybe it was because of the pregnancy and the exercise, but I was starving. After getting my food, I sat in a corner and started eating. A strong wave of perfume hit me, and Audrey sat down next to me. “Sierra,” she called my name. I couldn’t help it; I sneezed loudly. Audrey: “…” “What’s up?” I moved over a bit, putting some distance between me and Audrey. The smell was too strong; I couldn’t handle it. Audrey glanced at the microphone clipped to my shirt. Seeing it was turned off, she felt safe to speak: “Sierra, do you know what kind of family background Noah comes from?” Me: “?” “He’s the second son of the Sterling Group in New York,” Audrey said, her expression flat. “You should know the Sterling Group. Top-tier conglomerate in the city.” “Oh.” I didn’t understand what Audrey was getting at, but I nodded cluelessly. “Noah and Ethan. Neither of them is someone you can ever match. Be smart and stay far away from them from now on.” Me: “…???” I found Audrey’s words hilarious. This girl was really something else! “I hope you look out for yourself,” Audrey said, then stood up and walked away. Idiot. I rolled my eyes, ignored her, and went back to gnawing on my chicken drumstick. Night quietly fell. Noah got one room, which meant I’d be sleeping in the same room as Ethan tonight. The production team confiscated our phones, but they gave us one hour of phone time every day. After washing up, I lay in bed and started googling “precautions for pregnant women.” “What are you looking at?” Just as I was deeply engrossed in reading, a voice suddenly sounded from above my head. I jumped, frantically locking my phone screen. “You scared the crap out of me! Don’t you make any noise when you walk?” I patted my chest to calm my racing heart. I didn’t want to tell Ethan about the pregnancy just yet. Ethan produced a glass of milk from who knows where and handed it to me: “Drink this.” “Where did you get this?” Even though I ate quite a bit at dinner, I was starting to feel hungry again. Thinking about the baby in my stomach, I took the milk. After I finished it, Ethan handed me a tissue. “A villager gave it to us.” I nodded and went to brush my teeth before bed. Lying in bed, the camera in the room was covered by Ethan. I was originally feeling sleepy, but with Ethan lying next to me, my sleepiness suddenly vanished. My mind replayed the events of the day. Audrey had tried to get close to Ethan multiple times, but I saw Ethan completely ignore her every time. What was going on? Wasn’t Audrey Ethan’s “first love”? He literally lied about going on a business trip just to pick her up from the airport! Could it be that because I was here, Ethan felt awkward? That made sense. I suddenly let out a cold chuckle. Even if Ethan didn’t care about my feelings, he had to consider the reputation of our two families. “What are you laughing about in the middle of the night?” I heard Ethan’s voice suddenly cut through the darkness. “Mind your own business.” I rolled over, turning my back to Ethan, closed my eyes, and went to sleep. 7 Early the next morning. I slowly woke up, and as soon as I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a smooth, fair chin. My eyes widened, and I let out a scream, accidentally headbutting Ethan right under his jaw. A muffled groan followed. I sat up and saw a look of pain on Ethan’s face. “Y-you shameless creep!” I pointed a finger at Ethan. “You’re taking advantage of me! Who told you to hold me while sleeping!” Ethan sat up too. I have to admit, to become a top-tier star, his looks really were undeniable. His messy bangs fell over his brow, and his dark, deep eyes stared at me. He rubbed his chin and said: “Are you sure I was holding you?” I frowned slightly, thought for a moment, and then a look of sheer embarrassment spread across my face. Earlier… it seemed I was the one pinning Ethan down. I’ve always been a restless sleeper. Normally, Ethan was busy, and sometimes he wasn’t home. But even when he was home, we slept in separate beds. I scratched my head and replied: “We’re an old married couple anyway. So what if I squished you a little?” I’ve never been one to lose an argument. After saying that, I didn’t dare look at Ethan’s expression and quickly scrambled out of bed. The production team had prepared breakfast. After we finished eating, they announced the task. Helping the villagers clean fish. Hearing the words “clean fish,” a vivid image flashed in my mind. Normally, I probably wouldn’t have thought much of it. But now that I was pregnant, just thinking about that scene made me want to gag. Ethan was the first to notice my reaction. He walked behind me and patted my back. “What’s wrong?” I was about to answer when I saw the director’s crew bring out the fish. The smell of raw fish hit my nostrils, cutting my words short as I doubled over, dry heaving again. The viewers in the live chat saw this and immediately started speculating. “What’s wrong with Sierra? That looks exactly like morning sickness.” “Is Sierra pregnant? Why else would the smell of fish make her throw up?” I saw Ethan narrowing his eyes at me. My heart skipped a beat. Just as I was trying to figure out how to explain, Audrey also started dry heaving nearby. “Ethan, ugh…” Audrey’s reaction was clearly much more dramatic than mine, the actually pregnant person. “Ethan, this smell is awful. I caught a chill last night, and the smell today is making my stomach turn.” Audrey, eyes red and brimming with tears, looked at Ethan, clearly waiting for him to come over and comfort her. But Ethan didn’t even spare her a glance. However, Audrey’s words gave me the perfect excuse. “I think I caught a chill last night too. My stomach is feeling really upset today.” “I’ll ask the production team for an extra blanket tonight.” Ethan suddenly reached out and felt my forehead. “Good thing you don’t have a fever.” I was startled by Ethan’s sudden touch. The live chat also went silent for a moment, and then the screen was flooded with comments. “Ahhhh! What did I just see! The Ice King just touched Sierra’s forehead!” “Isn’t this a dating show? Touching a forehead is normal interaction, right?” “Why didn’t Ethan touch Audrey’s forehead? Audrey said she wasn’t feeling well and he didn’t care, but he cared about Sierra.” “Commenter above, what’s your logic? The Ice King’s current partner is Sierra. Isn’t it completely normal for him to care about his own partner? Why should he care about Audrey?” “Aren’t the Ice King and Audrey universally acknowledged as a couple?” “??? When did the Ice King ever say he and Audrey were a couple? Please stop trying to force them together, thanks!” The live chat was going crazy, and it took me a moment to snap out of it. I saw Audrey looking at me like she wanted to eat me alive. I frowned, feeling annoyed. Ethan is clearly my husband. What the hell does that look mean? I let out a soft scoff, purposely putting on a delicate, whiny voice for Ethan: “Ethan, my stomach hurts so much. I don’t think I can clean fish later.” I threw Ethan a “you-know-what-I-mean” look. Honestly, I was a little nervous. I wasn’t sure if Ethan would reject me. But if he actually dared to reject me, he was dead meat. I heard Ethan give a soft “Mhm”: “I’ll do it. You rest on the side.” I let out a “hehe” and smiled. For Liam and Chloe’s team, Chloe also didn’t want to clean fish, and Liam told her to go rest on the side. When it came to Noah and Audrey, right before Audrey could speak, Noah’s voice carried over: “Audrey, the smell of this fish is making me feel sick too. You clean them.” With that, Noah shoved a large knife into Audrey’s hands and walked over to the side, crossing his legs casually. This move left not only Audrey dumbfounded, but the entire live chat as well. “Hahahaha! Oh my god! Noah’s move has me dying! Audrey is frozen.” “Is Noah being ungentlemanly? Why make Audrey clean the fish?” “What do you mean ungentlemanly? During the first task, your Audrey wasn’t feeling well and rested on the side while our Noah gathered all the firewood himself. Now our Noah isn’t feeling well and wants to rest. Why can’t your Audrey clean the fish?” “Audrey needs to stop being so high-maintenance.” Audrey’s fans were definitely no match for Noah’s obsessive fanbase. In no time, the entire live chat was spammed with “Audrey needs to stop being so high-maintenance,” making Audrey’s manager’s face turn darker than coal. Audrey was screaming internally, but Noah clearly wasn’t going to help. If Audrey didn’t do it, they probably really wouldn’t have any lunch. She had no choice but to resign herself to her fate, pick up the knife, and start cleaning fish. Audrey was wearing a white dress today, and in no time, it was stained with bright red blood. I have to say, I was reveling in her misery. I didn’t like her to begin with, so of course, I was going to enjoy this. I looked over at Ethan. He was wearing black clothes and had thrown a leather apron over himself. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, displaying his muscular arms as he expertly chopped the fish without a hint of hesitation. As I watched, I let out a light cough. I was almost blinded by how hot this man looked.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411842”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Five years ago, I stayed in Europe to study medicine just for him. He said he would wait for me, that he wouldn’t marry anyone else in this lifetime. Five years later, when I returned home with a treatment plan I had painstakingly researched, he was eating a rich cheese pastry fed to him by another woman. 1 Rowan Hayes had always been a quiet, aloof person. Partly because he was naturally introverted, and partly because he had suffered from a chronic illness since childhood, meaning intense emotional fluctuations were dangerous for him. Having grown up with him, I knew this better than anyone. So, when I saw the smile reaching his eyes as he looked at Lily Evans, a deep sense of unease settled in my chest. I hadn’t changed my flight to come home early just to watch this scene unfold. Rowan and Lily were sitting on a bench in the courtyard of his villa. Lily was holding a piece of cheese pastry right up to Rowan’s lips, looking eager. Though Rowan was frowning slightly, his body language showed no sign of pulling away. In fact, a faint smile was creeping onto his lips as he watched her playful, impulsive behavior. “Rowan.” I called out softly. One second he was opening his mouth to take a bite, and the next, he whipped his head around, staring at me in disbelief. His eyes overflowed with confusion, joy, shock, and a sliver of panic. “Harper!” Before I could even react, Rowan had crossed the distance and pulled me into a tight embrace. He leaned down, holding me tighter and tighter. I could feel his emotions rushing toward me like a flood. For five years, his embrace was what I had missed the most. The joy of our reunion momentarily took over, making me briefly forget the uncomfortable scene I had just witnessed. “Harper, it’s been five years. You’re finally back…” “I missed you so much I thought I’d go crazy!” Rowan’s voice was hoarse. Though his face rarely showed much emotion, the burning intensity in his eyes made me blush. He rarely got this worked up, but right now, the hands gripping my shoulders were trembling violently. “Yeah, I’m back.” Afraid he might lose control, I reached out and stroked the back of his hand to soothe him. I had to admit, I loved it when Rowan showed emotion because of me. Whenever he did, his love for me spilled over without reservation. But mild emotional fluctuations were fine; anything too intense, and I worried it would trigger his illness. As Rowan and I gazed deeply at each other, lost in the moment, I finally noticed Lily. She had stood up from the bench and walked over to stand beside him. I was instantly reminded of their intimate interaction just moments ago. “Rowan, who is this?” It was only when I asked the question that I realized the woman standing in front of me looked incredibly similar to me. So similar, in fact, that even I might have mistaken her for my own sister at first glance. It clicked instantly. During the five years I was gone, Rowan had found a knockoff to keep him company. The atmosphere instantly dropped below freezing. Rowan seemed to realize that letting me see Lily wasn’t a good thing. He shot me a panicked look but still opened his mouth to explain. “Harper, her name is Lily Evans. She’s a pre-med student at State University. A student I sponsored three years ago.” Three years ago? Now that he mentioned it, I had a vague memory of it. He had brought it up in passing during a FaceTime call back then. But he never mentioned that this Lily Evans looked so much like me. “You sponsor a student, and now she’s sponsored all the way into your house?” My tone was entirely flat, but a heavy stone was definitely lodging itself in my chest. “It’s not like that, Harper…” Rowan was visibly panicking. He grabbed my hand to explain, “She just came to drop something off today.” I glanced at the open box on the patio table. Several individually wrapped pastries were scattered around it. “Yes… because my paper won an award, my professor gave them to me. Please don’t misunderstand.” Lily kept her head down, seemingly afraid to look at me, but she still stammered out an explanation. “I’ve never had this kind of pastry before, and I figured Mr. Hayes probably hadn’t either, so I brought them over as a small thank-you gift…” Her voice got quieter and quieter until I couldn’t hear the rest. Rowan was the CEO of a publicly traded company. Who in their right mind would think there was an expensive pastry out there he hadn’t seen before? “Harper, it’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you.” Rowan lowered his eyes. Paired with his sharp, aristocratic nose, he really was handsome. Sweat was pooling in his palms as he held my hand; I could tell he was incredibly tense. I didn’t want to put too much strain on his heart. “Alright, I believe you.” I forced a relaxed smile. “But Rowan, you should avoid eating high-cholesterol foods like cheese pastries. Your condition has finally stabilized a bit these past few years. I don’t want you getting sick again.” Seeing that I wasn’t angry, the tension between Rowan’s brows finally smoothed out. He turned to look at Lily. A complex emotion flashed through his eyes, but he quickly returned to normal, using the cold tone he reserved for outsiders. “It’s getting late. You can go back now.” Lily’s head snapped up. She looked at him in disbelief, her expression slowly shifting to crushing disappointment. “But the pastries…” “Miss Evans, what’s your specialty at the medical university?” Hearing my random question, both of them looked at me in confusion. Lily pressed her lips together and whispered, “Cardiology.” “Then you should know that patients with IPAH shouldn’t consume foods high in cholesterol, right?” Lily stared at me blankly for a moment before something seemed to click. Looking utterly defeated, she turned back to pack up the pastries on the table, putting them in her bag one by one. “I’m sorry… I’ll take my leave now.” As she brushed past me, I noticed her lift a hand to wipe away tears. Winning an award for a paper, yet not even knowing that IPAH patients can’t eat high-cholesterol foods? The academic standards at State University really seemed to be slipping. “Rowan, since I’m back this time…” I was just about to tell him that I had fully graduated and didn’t need to leave again. But when I looked up, I saw him staring blankly in the direction Lily had gone. My heart sank. I didn’t finish my sentence. I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and walked straight into the house. When Rowan snapped out of it and realized I was already walking ahead, he recognized his slip-up. Looking guilty, he rushed forward and grabbed my suitcase. “Harper, let me get that!” I didn’t fight him for it. The suitcase wasn’t that heavy anyway. We walked into the house in silence, right up until the housekeeper, Maria, greeted us at the door with a beaming smile. She didn’t know what had just transpired outside in those few short minutes, but she could probably guess who it was about. Because there was no way I believed Lily had only come to the Hayes estate today. Today’s little drama was quite the “surprise” to come home to. 2 “Harper, what happened today wasn’t what you thought.” During dinner that evening, Rowan was the first to break the silence. “She really is just a student I sponsored. That’s all.” Rowan looked up at me, his eyes pleading. “Please don’t be angry because of her, okay?” “What’s with her face?” I asked. “I leave home for five years, and when I come back, I find you two acting intimately, sharing food. And it was food I explicitly warned you not to eat. Do you expect me not to be mad?” My tone was harsh. It was then that Rowan realized I wasn’t just throwing a petty tantrum. Panic seized him, and after a long moment, he leaned over and grasped my wrist. “Harper, I admit, I sponsored her through college because she looks so much like you. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d overthink it. But there is absolutely nothing going on between Lily and me.” “Rowan, let me ask you something. If I hadn’t spoken up to stop you today, would you have eaten that pastry from her hand?” I stared stubbornly into his eyes. His eyes were as dark as ink; anyone looking into them would be involuntarily drawn in. But looking at them now, I just wanted to cry. Hearing my voice crack, Rowan’s expression finally broke. His eyes filled with heartache as he pulled me into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Harper. I was wrong. Please don’t cry, okay…” “You’re unbelievable, Rowan. Who do you think I went to Europe for? Who do you think I went to medical school for? Do you know how hard med school is? And what’s the first thing I see when I get back! I see you eating some cheap pastry she gave you…” He coaxed me softly in my ear, but I was like a broken dam. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing. It was as if I wanted to pour out all the grievances of the last five years at once. Rowan clumsily tried to kiss me, but I pushed him away. He resorted to gently wiping my tears with his thumbs. This was the tenderness he never showed anyone else, a tenderness that belonged only to me. I don’t know how long I cried. I cried until I was dizzy, and Rowan carried me to the bathroom to wash my face, then laid me down on the soft bed. “Harper…” Rowan propped himself up to kiss me. I caught the faint scent of cedarwood on him. It was intoxicating. “Rowan…” I pushed against his chest as he leaned in. “Are you thinking about something you shouldn’t be?” “…” Rowan’s ears instantly turned bright red, and he turned his head away, too embarrassed to look at me. But that put my mind at ease. He was still the same Rowan. The Rowan who looked cold and arrogant to the world, but turned into a blushing mess whenever it came to me. I looped my arms around his neck and kissed him gently. What I got in return was a deep kiss that was anything but hesitant. It had been five years. We had both waited too long for this day. After that, we didn’t bring up Lily Evans again. We settled into the Hayes estate, picking up the life we had planned five years ago. Unfortunately, the peaceful days didn’t last long. Not long after I started my residency at the city hospital, Rowan’s old symptoms suddenly flared up. Shortness of breath, tachycardia. He collapsed in the underground parking lot of his company. When he was rushed to the hospital, I was in the middle of a heated debate at a medical conference with a senior professor. By the time the conference ended in the afternoon, I finally heard that an emergency patient had been brought in that morning. However, the first person I saw wasn’t Rowan in his hospital bed, but Lily Evans, pacing anxiously outside his room. Hearing my footsteps, she looked over joyfully, but when she realized it was me, the light in her eyes died. I had to admit, seeing her face was still jarring. It was like looking into a blurred mirror. But I didn’t have time to deal with her right now. I walked past her straight into the room. Nurse Sarah was monitoring Rowan’s blood pressure. “Dr. Brooks…” “How is the patient? Has he regained consciousness since he was brought in this morning?” I asked. “Not yet. But after putting him on oxygen, his blood pressure and oxygen saturation have returned to normal.” Looking at Rowan lying in the hospital bed with an oxygen mask, my heart ached terribly. “He’s stable for now. You can go back to your duties, Sarah. I’ll take care of him here.” I gave her a faint smile. Sarah nodded, but before leaving, she hesitated and glanced at me. “Is there a problem?” Was there another symptom they hadn’t told me about? “Dr. Brooks, I know it’s not my place, but that girl at the door has been standing there for a long time. Is she your sister?” I subconsciously looked toward the door. Sure enough, Lily was still standing there. Who exactly was keeping her from coming in? I smiled bitterly and shook my head. Sarah didn’t ask any more questions and left. Rowan lay on the bed. Even though his vitals were stable, he just wouldn’t wake up. It reminded me of a rainy night six years ago when Rowan had collapsed without warning just like this. That was when I first learned about Idiopathic Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension (IPAH). There was no absolute cure for it, which was why I made the firm decision to go to Switzerland, where some of the most advanced research on the disease was happening. “Didn’t I tell you to leave? Why are you still standing here like a pole?” “Mr. Miller, please just let me go in and see him. I’m really worried about him…” “Worried my ass. Who do you think you are? Get lost, go on, shoo! You’re blocking the doorway!” “Mr. Miller…” “Stop yelling! This is a hospital ward. Take it outside…” Hearing the commotion, I walked over and saw Lily arguing with a man holding a bouquet and a fruit basket. “Harper Brooks?” The man’s shocked voice made me turn to look at him. Thick eyebrows, big eyes, dyed blonde hair, wearing a black jacket covered in straps and chains. That flashy, avant-garde style, combined with that face… “Chase… Chase Miller?” “Ha! You remember! Five years and I thought you forgot about me! When did you get back? I bumped into Rowan passed out in the parking lot this morning and brought him in. Anyway, how is he? Is he awake?” His rapid-fire questions almost transported me back to our exhausting high school days. I smiled helplessly and stepped aside to let him in. “Go see for yourself…” I said. “Miss Brooks, please let me in too. Just one look at Mr. Hayes, just one… I’m so worried…” Before Chase could respond, Lily grabbed my arm. Her eyes were filled with tears as she begged, drawing the attention of passing patients and nurses. Lily was pretty (I mean, not to be narcissistic). Even though we looked alike, she possessed a pitiful, fragile aura that I completely lacked. Crying like that, it made it look as though I was the cold-hearted villain bullying her. “Tsk, what is wrong with you?” Chase said. “You’re not family, you’re not a friend. Why should we let you visit? Besides, aren’t you a student? Rowan pays for your tuition, and you skip a whole day of classes on his dime? Get out of here. If you hang around any longer, it’ll be dark, your dorm will be locked, and you won’t even be able to get back!” Chase’s rapid-fire delivery and sharp tongue made me wonder if he shouldn’t have majored in debate instead of art. Lily’s face turned beet red. Faced with his humiliation, she fought hard to keep her tears from falling. Chase shot me a triumphant smirk. I shook my head helplessly. “Har… Harper…” Rowan’s weak voice came from the hospital room. I immediately rushed back inside. Rowan was awake. He looked around in confusion until he saw me, then realized what had happened. “Did I have another episode?” A bitter smile touched his lips. My heart throbbed with pain. I lowered my eyes, trying to hide the tears welling up. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine,” I comforted him, though I was also comforting myself. “Alright, he’s awake. You can stop worrying now. Hurry up and leave, do you have zero situational awareness?” Chase’s voice drifted in from the hallway, followed by the sound of Lily walking away, sobbing. “What’s going on outside?” Rowan asked. “It’s Chase. He’s the one who brought you to the hospital,” I paused. “And Lily Evans.” Rowan didn’t say anything else, but the fleeting look of emotion in his eyes still stung me. It seemed this matter was far from over. 3 “How is Rowan doing? Why did he suddenly have an episode?” Shortly after waking up, Rowan fell back asleep. Chase pulled me out into the hallway and asked quietly. “There’s still no case of his disease being completely cured,” I sighed. “With current medical technology, we can only rely on medication to stabilize his condition… When you found him, was there anyone else with him?” Chase hesitated, looking at me as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. “Lily Evans?” He nodded. I knew it. “Uh, but don’t overthink it. She’s been staking out his office building for a long time. She just happened to catch him today.” “You’re really good at making excuses for your bro,” I complained, feigning anger. Chase panicked. “Tsk, I’m definitely on your side! Didn’t you see me roast that Lily girl until she was speechless just now?” The image of Chase arguing with our high school principal suddenly popped into my head. I laughed. “Alright, seriously though, thank you so much for today. I owe you a dinner.” Chase grinned, scratching his head awkwardly. “It was nothing… but since you’re offering, I won’t say no!” I waved at him helplessly as he left. However, just as I saw Chase off and turned to head back to the room, I saw Lily standing pitifully off to the side. Didn’t she leave? She really pulled a fast one on me. “Do you need something?” I asked her expressionlessly. “Miss Brooks…” Lily’s eyes were red, like a rabbit’s. “I’m sorry.” “Sorry for what?” “I…” Like someone who had been holding back grievances for a long time and finally snapped, Lily suddenly covered her face and burst into loud sobs. “It’s all my fault. I said things that upset Mr. Hayes. I made him sick. If it weren’t for me… if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have collapsed… It’s all my fault…” My mind went completely blank. “What did you say to him?” I tried my best to suppress my emotions, not wanting her to notice anything off about me. Lily rubbed her red eyes. “I came today to say goodbye to Mr. Hayes. I wanted to go back to my hometown. My relatives found a pretty good match for me to marry, and then… he got so angry he yelled at me, and then he collapsed from the stress…” I didn’t know what to say for a moment. In my memory, Rowan rarely got sick because of emotional fluctuations. “Miss Evans, you don’t need to cry.” I smiled faintly. “Rowan probably had an episode because he inhaled fumes. It was an underground parking garage, after all. There’s a lot of exhaust. “But Miss Evans, what you said is infuriating. Rowan sponsored your education for so many years, and you want to drop out to go back and get married? Isn’t that making all his efforts a waste? You should focus on your studies and not let us down.” Probably not expecting such a calm reaction from me, Lily looked up, staring at me in shock. I put on a look of concern. “Is it your relatives forcing you to go back and get married? Do you need me to introduce you to a lawyer?” Lily froze for a moment, then forced a smile. “No, no need.” I didn’t say anything more to her and turned back into the hospital room. Rowan was still sleeping, his breathing even. But I felt like I was suffocating. I had never doubted Rowan’s feelings for me. After all, we had known each other for twenty-two years. We were childhood sweethearts, having met when we were four. In my memory, before he turned seventeen, Rowan didn’t like smiling at others, and he never smiled at me. I figured back then, to him, I was probably just the daughter of his father’s friend. Even though we had been in the same classes since elementary school, we rarely actually spoke. When Rowan was seventeen, disaster struck his family. His father was reported for financial fraud. Shareholders pulled their investments overnight, the company was shut down and investigated, and his business partners absconded with the funds. The Hayes Corporation became the target of public outrage. Added to the cash flow problems, the Hayes family went bankrupt. At the time, Rowan’s mother had already been in the hospital for over a year due to health issues. Neither father nor son told her what happened. In the end, his father sold their house at a heavy discount just to scrape together enough money for her surgery. But when you’re at your lowest, tragedies tend to pile on. Rowan’s mother made it off the operating table safely, but died of sudden cardiac arrest shortly after. It was a common surgical risk; no one was to blame for the tragedy. But the sorrow didn’t end there. The night his mother died, another body appeared below the Hayes Corporation building. His father had jumped. By the time my family rushed over, Rowan was standing in the morgue, staring blankly at the bodies of his parents. My father stepped forward and held him tightly; my mother pulled me close, crying uncontrollably. At the funeral, Rowan didn’t cry. Like always, he was just silent, watching the friends and relatives who came to pay their respects with no joy and no sorrow. The few friends his father had when he was alive didn’t show up. Although they claimed they were tied up with business, I knew they were just afraid of getting involved in the mess. Despite the large number of relatives, not a single one offered to take in a seventeen-year-old Rowan. We couldn’t bear to let him go back to that shabby rented apartment. Rowan was in a daze, like a walking corpse. He slept quietly in our guest room that night. My father said, if they won’t raise Rowan, I will. And just like that, Rowan stayed at our house. He still went to school and came home like usual. His grades were always at the top of the class, and he had an ever-growing list of admirers. He was as normal as could be, but I always felt that the more normal he acted, the more he was suppressing his true emotions. I figured our house wasn’t where Rowan truly wanted to be. My father seemed to notice this too. One day, he suddenly placed the keys to the Hayes family villa in front of Rowan. A flicker of emotion finally crossed his deadened face. He nodded, said thank you, took the keys, and left our house. I knew my father was good to Rowan mostly to repay the debt of gratitude he owed Rowan’s father for giving him his start. But now, he truly cared for the boy from the bottom of his heart. After Rowan moved back into the Hayes house, he stopped going to school. He locked himself inside all day. Even when I went to drop off food, I could only leave it at the door. But days passed, and the food at the door remained untouched. I suspected he was having suicidal thoughts. “Rowan! Rowan!” After losing count of how many times I failed to see him, I had no choice but to bang loudly on the floor-to-ceiling windows of the balcony. No one answered. Finally, I smashed a hole in the glass with a rock, stuck my arm in, unlocked the door, and went inside. Probably hearing the noise, Rowan finally came downstairs. He was wearing dirty clothes, enveloped in a cloud of gloom. He was much thinner than the last time I saw him, and a fine stubble covered his chin. Although it was a false alarm, I was still furious. But before I could blow up, he grabbed me and dragged me toward the bedroom. “What are you doing! I’m going to scream!” I struggled in terror, but Rowan was tall and strong, and he literally dragged me all the way into the bedroom. It’s over, I thought. Rowan’s suppressed his feelings for too long, he’s finally lost his mind. However, what awaited me wasn’t the horrifying scene I had imagined, but a shallow stinging sensation on the back of my hand. Only then did I realize that the back of my hand had been cut by the glass at some point. Rowan carefully disinfected my wound with a cotton swab. His clumsy yet gentle demeanor was as if he were handling a fragile, precious treasure. It was right then that I realized I had a bit of a crush on him. Later, I talked to him a lot. I told him he could stay home alone, and he didn’t have to go to school, but he absolutely had to eat properly. I also told him that as long as he said he was sad, I would come over and stay with him until he was ready to face the world again. That was the first time I saw Rowan smile, and also the first time I saw him cry like a child. Later, when the investigation into his father’s case concluded, it was proven that the rumors were malicious lies. The rumor mongers were arrested, but Rowan’s parents were never coming back. It was also that day I learned Rowan had IPAH. He was rushed to the ER, and I was so terrified he would go in and never come out, just like his mother. Thankfully, he was okay. It was also from then on that I secretly changed my college major. It was precisely because we had been through so much together that I had absolute confidence in our relationship. I never imagined another woman appearing by Rowan’s side, much less that he would care excessively about any woman other than me. But these five years seemed to have changed too much. I was beginning to doubt. A man I was afraid to even argue with because of his health had actually been hospitalized out of anger over another woman. 4 Rowan slept until early the next morning. I had a nurse arrange some tests for him. As long as there were no major issues, he could be discharged. I sat on a stool watching Rowan. He stared out the window, his brows furrowed slightly, lost in thought. “Rowan, after you fell asleep yesterday, Lily Evans came by.” Actually, she had never left. Rowan shot me a quick glance, then asked calmly, “Did she say anything?” “She said thank you for all your help, and that she’s going home to get married.” “Cough, cough…” Rowan clutched his chest and started coughing. Normally, I would rush forward to coddle him, but now, I figured a few coughs wouldn’t kill him. After all, he’d already passed out for her. “How is that possible…” Rowan muttered to himself. “Why wouldn’t it be possible?” I fired back instantly: “Do you know her that well?” “Harper…” Rowan looked at me, his face pale. “Do you really want to talk about this right now?” “Fine, we won’t talk about it. You’re sick, after all.” I didn’t want to bother with him anymore. I pulled off the pulse oximeter and turned to leave. For whatever reason, Rowan grabbed my hand. “Ever since she left the house that time, she’s been coming to the company a lot. Every time, I’ve had my assistant turn her away. I just didn’t expect her to follow me to the parking lot yesterday, and even say she wanted to…” He didn’t finish the sentence. I turned to look at him, and he looked back at me, lost. “She said she wanted to get married, and you were so furious you passed out.” I couldn’t help but find it funny. “Rowan, just admit it. “In the three years you’ve known her, you wavered.” I shook off his hand and ignored his calls, told the nurses outside to keep an eye on him, and went back to my office. Before returning to the States, I never imagined that I’d come home to face Rowan’s infidelity. Those five years of sleepless nights and relentless studying felt like a complete joke. I moved out of the Hayes estate. At first, he stood outside my door saying a lot of sweet things, bringing up all our memories from high school. Listening to him, apart from sadness, I just felt a heavy weight on my heart. He knew our best memories were from back then. But the more he made me reminisce, the more lost I felt. Later, when he realized I wasn’t just throwing a tantrum, he panicked. He started apologizing constantly, promising he would cut all ties with Lily, that he would never let her appear in front of me again, let alone near our lives. My parents thought that since Rowan had admitted his mistake, and since nothing physical had actually happened with Lily, I should forgive him for the sake of our twenty years of history. But how many times had I woken up in the middle of the night, the image of Rowan smiling tenderly at Lily flashing in my mind? His smile was no longer exclusively mine, and his heart was slowly shifting away. I really did love him hopelessly. Being able to endure five years in a foreign country was entirely because of him. But now, I was starting to doubt. I was doubting if it was all worth it. “Harper, today is your birthday. Can we please just see each other?” After many days, Rowan’s voice had grown hoarse. He knocked on the door outside, but I ignored him. “Okay… if you ever want to see me, just call. I have something I want to tell you too…” Rowan’s desolate voice drifted in, followed by the sound of his heavy, retreating footsteps. I wiped away the dried tear tracks on my face, ready to pull myself together, when I received a text. It was from Chase. Ever since I went abroad, I hadn’t had much contact with my old high school friend. Even when I did get news, it was through Rowan telling me how Chase was doing. That familiar chat box blinked on my screen. “Happy Birthday, Miss Brooks!” Followed immediately by another text. “When are you cashing in on that dinner you owe me? I’ve already picked out a super expensive restaurant ι(｀?-?′)/” His use of emoticons was so spot-on it gave me intense déjà vu. I replied: “Let’s do today then. Are you free?” Chase replied instantly: “? For real?” Me: “For real, but if you’re too slow, this lady won’t wait around.” This time, he didn’t reply for a long time. By the time I got another message, he had already parked his car outside my door. Still rocking that eye-catching blonde hair and edgy, loud clothes. Seeing me, Chase lowered his sunglasses and gave me a cocky eyebrow raise: “Get in. I’m taking you out for a good time!” “Humph.” I sniffled slightly, opened the door, and got in. The car smelled faintly of paint. “I think I’m taking you out for a good time, okay?” “Alright, alright, Miss Brooks. You’re the boss. Where to?” Chase tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, seemingly in a great mood. For some reason, seeing Chase like this made me feel incredibly at ease. So much had changed in the last five years, but Chase was still the same carefree guy he had always been. “Pfft—” “What are you laughing at?” Chase looked at me laughing uncontrollably, completely bewildered. “Nothing… let’s go eat.” I said excitedly. “Let’s go somewhere with a huge menu!” “A huge menu?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411843”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

A viral TikTok asked, “How much damage can a guy’s ‘first love’ actually do?” I saw my boyfriend’s comment: “My current girlfriend was just diagnosed with a terminal illness. All I can think is: thank God she’s just a lookalike, and not her.” Clutching my diagnosis report, I cried until I started to laugh. 1 The first thing I did after leaving the hospital was pack my bags. Sean noticed me packing before he noticed my bloodshot eyes. He frowned and asked, “What are you packing for?” I looked up at him and grinned widely. “I’m packing up to go die.” But Sean didn’t laugh. His frown only deepened. I knew he only liked it when I offered a demure, close-lipped smile; he only liked me when I was gentle and quiet. But now that I was dying, I only wanted to do what made me happy. Right then, his phone rang. The room was so quiet I could hear his friend’s loud voice through the receiver: “Sean! She’s back! Are you coming to pick her up from the airport or what?” Sean’s grip on his phone tightened instantly. He gave a quick, soft “Yeah” and hung up. Probably out of guilt, I could feel his displeasure vanish, replaced by a kind of apologetic affection. “Baby…” he started, but I cut him off with a smile: “If you have something to do, go do it! Don’t worry about me.” Sean was in such a hurry he didn’t even notice my suitcase was already fully packed. He hastily ruffled my hair, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door. The moment he left, I rolled my suitcase straight to a salon and chopped off the long hair I’d grown out for five years. Snip. Five years, gone in an instant. 2 Sean had barely reunited with his long-lost first love at the airport when I showed up, dragging my suitcase behind me. Wearing sunglasses and holding a compact mirror, I looked at the woman beside him, then at myself in the mirror. I suddenly had the urge to get a DNA test. Seeing me, Sean’s brow furrowed so deeply it could have crushed a fly. “Chloe? What are you doing here?” See? In front of his first love, he resorted to using my actual name instead of his usual pet names. I took off my sunglasses and walked over confidently to say hi. “What a coincidence.” The woman was momentarily startled to see me, but she quickly recovered, offering an elegant, close-lipped smile and looking at Sean questioningly. Sean’s annoyance eased slightly at her smile. He introduced us simply: “This is Audrey, we grew up together. And this is Chloe, my… friend.” He said the word “friend” so quickly and quietly, it was as if adding “girl” in front of it made no difference. A sudden look back, and there she is, in the dim, fading light… Ah. I smiled and extended my hand. “Hi there, I’m Chloe. I’m a ghost, a phantom, someone who shouldn’t exist. And of course, I’m Sean’s ‘friend’.” “Hello,” Audrey replied, taking my hand. Every movement and smile radiated the ease and confidence of someone who knows they are favored. Sean looked inexplicably uncomfortable. He gently urged her, “Audrey, you still need to get over your jet lag. I’ll drive you home first. Chloe, you…” I smiled and cut him off again: “If you have something to do, go do it! Don’t worry about me.” This time, Sean finally noticed something was wrong. As if just realizing my short hair and the suitcase, his tone suddenly became anxious. “Why did you cut your hair? Where are you going with that suitcase?” I laughed. “Sean, you’re so funny. Where else would I be going with a suitcase at the airport but on a trip?” Sean’s pupils constricted. “You’re leaving me?” “Oh look, my flight’s boarding soon.” I checked my watch and waved at them. “Audrey, I’m leaving my friend in your hands. See you around.” With that, I turned to leave, but Sean grabbed my wrist and yelled, “Chloe, what the hell is wrong with you?!” I flinched at his yell, turning my head. The smile was still on my lips, but tears were falling pathetically down my face. “Sean, there is something wrong with me. I’m sick.” As I said this, my peripheral vision was entirely focused on her. She was so beautiful, so confident; even the sunlight seemed to favor her. “Sean, let me guess. Right now, are you thinking… thank God I’m the one who’s sick, and not her?” 3 I insisted on boarding my flight; Sean insisted I couldn’t. We ended up causing such a scene at the airport that even Audrey got dragged to the airport police station for questioning. Coming out of the station after giving our statements, I was still mourning the cost of my plane ticket. Sean tried to drag me home by the hand. I shook him off and took two steps back. “That’s not my home.” “Chloe, haven’t you made enough of a scene?” Sean had completely lost his patience. He said coldly, “Our engagement party is the day after tomorrow. I’ve already sent out the invitations. Who are you throwing this tantrum for?” “Oh, so you do remember we have an engagement party the day after tomorrow.” I let out a bitter laugh, turning my gaze to Audrey. I didn’t even need to speak; the sarcasm was practically overflowing. Hearing the words “engagement party,” Audrey also looked up at Sean, a fleeting look of loneliness crossing her face. “Sean, you’re… congratulations.” The moment his eyes met Audrey’s, Sean’s expression looked exactly like heartbreak. They say when the ex cries, the current girlfriend loses. Well, here I was—the ex didn’t even shed a tear, and I had still lost completely. Whatever. I’m done playing this game. I hailed a cab, leaving my suitcase behind, and told the driver to go. I saw Sean subconsciously take two steps after me, his face dark. But in the end, he turned and went to drive Audrey home, leaving my suitcase abandoned on the curb. Nobody wanted it. I pulled my gaze away, my nose burning with the urge to cry. “Miss, fighting with your boyfriend?” The driver glanced in the rearview mirror and gossiped, “Men, you know, they’re bound to have wandering eyes. As long as he has you in his heart, that’s what matters. You can’t push a man too hard, it just drives him further away. You just need to coax him a little and it’ll be fine.” I rubbed my nose. “Sir, please don’t try to talk me out of it. I’m taking a cab home to get an axe. If you talk me out of chopping him up, I’ll have to chop you up instead.” “…” The driver immediately shut his mouth, and the car finally fell silent. As we reached a downtown mall, I suddenly asked him to pull over. The driver dropped me off, muttered a curse, and sped away. I looked up, took a deep breath of the bustling city air, and decided to go on a wild shopping spree. However, once inside the mall, I lost interest and just sat blankly on a bench. Suddenly, I snapped out of my daze, my eyes locking onto Sean’s dark ones. Of course, he hadn’t come looking for me. He was there accompanying Audrey on a shopping trip. Beside Audrey was an older couple. The four of them were laughing and chatting together, looking like a picture-perfect family from an advertisement. That was something I had never had in my entire life. Seeing me as well, Sean’s face clearly displayed a look of blame, as if to say, ‘Are you haunting me?’ But before he could speak, the older woman beside Audrey suddenly became agitated: “Sparky? Sparky?” Tears streamed from the woman’s eyes as she practically threw herself at me, trembling. “Is it you, Sparky? Sparky, my Sparky!” “It’s really… it’s really Sparky…” The woman’s husband also recovered from his shock, his wrinkled, red eyes brimming with emotion. Audrey, meanwhile, was stunned. She looked at her parents, then at me, her chest suddenly heaving violently. “S-sister?” Sean was frozen, and I stood rooted to the spot. What kind of plot twist was this? I took a step back to avoid Audrey’s mother. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you have the wrong person. I know Audrey and I look very much alike, but I grew up in an orphanage…” I paused mid-sentence. “My poor Sparky…” Audrey’s mother cried so hard she couldn’t stand. Audrey’s father barely managed to support her, his graying temples seemingly drooping with exhaustion. “Do you remember the carnival when we were little?” Audrey wiped her tears furiously. “The carnival Mom took us to. Because we were throwing a tantrum, Mom bought us each a…” “A little hamster in a red bamboo basket.” “A little hamster in a red basket.” I instinctively finished the sentence, speaking almost simultaneously with Audrey. Audrey’s mother cried out “My Sparky,” clutching her chest tightly, practically fainting on the spot. Memories that had been forcefully sealed away for years suddenly burst open, and my entire consciousness blurred. “I remember… I remember that carnival. Because the little hamster ran away, I let go of someone’s hand to chase it. Then someone picked me up… I think I slept for a while, and was taken to a lot of places… and then my last memory is being in the orphanage…” My eyes glazed over, as if I were dreaming. “Are you… are you really my family?” Audrey grabbed my hand and nodded frantically, crying so hard she couldn’t even speak. All that elegance and composure vanished in an instant. As I slowly pulled my hand back, I realized I was already crying. I looked at Sean, then at Audrey, and finally at Audrey’s parents. Suddenly, I broke into a wide grin. “But why did it take you until now to find me? Did you know…” “I’m about to die.” 4 From as early as I can remember, I lived in an orphanage—a cage filled with gloom and bitterness. Fortunately, I met a wonderful teacher in elementary school who guided me onto the right path, teaching me optimism and cheerfulness. I liked to laugh out loud, I liked to play harmless jokes, and I liked to joke around while laughing out loud. Until I met Sean. It was at the freshman orientation gala. Sean was the student representative and the host, wearing a dark blue suit, standing tall and straight, his eyes bright as stars. It’s no exaggeration to say that just standing there, he was the brightest boy, the most heart-stopping moonlight. In that moment, I felt like my soul had been stolen by him. Of course, I wasn’t the only freshman whose soul was stolen by Sean that night. The girls swarmed him, but off-stage, Sean was like a block of ice—a block of ice with a bad temper. So you can imagine, when that block of ice melted only for you, it wouldn’t be surprising if you went a little crazy. Sean rejected every girl who asked for his WeChat, walked straight toward me through the crowd, and quietly asked if we could exchange numbers. I almost lost my mind on the spot. Back then, I thought that encounter was because of love, because of fate, or maybe even a connection from a past life. Now the answer was revealed: it was because of bloodlines. Because I was biological sisters with his first love. There was no more perfect “stand-in” for her in this world than me. Sean really was life’s favorite. If he couldn’t have the younger sister, life handed him the older one. That day at the mall, when I publicly announced my impending death, Audrey’s mother fainted immediately, her father wept bitter tears, and Audrey slumped to her knees, unable to accept it. Even the look Sean gave me was one I had never seen before… Shock? Unease? Panic? Heartache? A single word couldn’t describe that look. “Affection that comes too late is cheaper than dirt.” Audrey held my hand, her eyes swollen like peaches. She had been like this for the past two days: red-eyed, clinging to me. “Affection that comes too late is cheaper than dirt, sis,” Audrey repeated. “Don’t look back. He’s not worth it.” I smiled. “I thought you really liked him? Weren’t you looking pretty lonely outside the airport when you heard he was getting engaged?” “I’m sorry, sis, I’m so sorry…” Audrey’s tears started falling again. “I know I was acting like a total bitch back then. I clearly didn’t like Sean, but because he was always chasing after me, suddenly hearing he was marrying someone else made me feel like something of mine was being stolen. I thought I’d just flirt with him a little to disgust you on purpose… I really didn’t know it was you back then!” “I saw you and thought you looked really familiar, but I just assumed Sean had deliberately found a ‘stand-in.’ So it made sense that your features were similar to mine. I even thought to myself, Sean is really good at playing the devoted lover if he could find someone who looked so much like me. I even felt a sense of contempt and superiority deep down. I… I was wrong, I was so wrong, sis!” Audrey cried as she tried to explain, gripping my hand tightly, terrified I would pull away again. But I could understand what she was saying. It’s like a spoiled kitten—sometimes they just have to knock over a water glass with childish behavior to prove their place in a human’s heart. Because she didn’t know it was me, Audrey naturally felt entitled to enjoy being favored. She subconsciously wanted to show off her superiority as the “first love.” But once she knew it was me, she could no longer feel a shred of superiority, only overwhelming guilt. Human double standards have always been like this. Bzzzt, bzzzt, bzzzt… The phone on the table was vibrating like crazy. I clicked it open and saw it was all messages from Sean. Sean said he had already booked the best doctor for me, that my illness could definitely be cured. He said he wouldn’t break up with me because of this, and that he would still marry me. I watched the messages roll in one after another. Audrey watched me nervously, terrified I would soften. I just found it fascinating. Turns out Sean had such a passionate, proactive side to him too. In the past, I’d send him dozens of messages and he’d reply to one, and I’d carefully save every single reply, grinning like an idiot over them when I had nothing else to do. Honestly, I hadn’t planned on telling Sean about my illness this early. I wanted to leave quietly, die quietly, so that one day when Sean realized he could never find me again, he would stumble upon my gravestone, engraved with the joke: “Surprise! She’s already dead!” His expression at that moment would surely be priceless. Bzzzt, bzzzt. The phone showed an incoming call again. I pushed the phone toward Audrey, and she simply put it on speaker: “Hello.” Hearing Audrey’s voice, Sean clearly paused. “Audrey, give the phone back to Chlo… give it back to your sister. I need to talk to her.” But Audrey asked her own question: “Sean, do you like me? Do you want to be with me?” The other end of the line fell silent. The living first love versus the dying memory—choosing between them must be really tough for him, right? “Stop messing around, Audrey.” Sean’s voice was full of exasperation, not blame, as if dealing with a spoiled little girl. “This isn’t the time for this. Where’s your sister? She’s still throwing a tantrum at me. I’ll come find her in a bit.” I suddenly leaned close to the phone and repeated, word for word: “How much damage can a guy’s ‘first love’ actually do? My current girlfriend was just diagnosed with a terminal illness. All I can think is: thank God she’s just a lookalike, and not her.” “…” Beep. After a moment of silence on the other end, Sean hung up the phone. “Scumbag!” Audrey immediately blocked his number, trembling with anger. “Why didn’t I realize he was such a bastard before!” Because humans are the most selfish animals. Before their own interests are threatened, everyone is a “good person.” I smiled indifferently and turned the phone off completely. The living first love versus the dying memory. Which one to choose? He must be in quite a dilemma right now, huh? But he doesn’t need to worry. Because no matter which one… Neither of us will choose him. 5 Surprisingly, the ones who found me faster than Sean were Audrey’s parents. Or rather, my biological parents. Maybe there really is some sort of connection between blood relatives. They didn’t even ask me to take a DNA test; they recognized me as their lost daughter with just one look. But to me, blood is just blood; it doesn’t equate to family. Family bonds can only be built on time and companionship. They are irreplaceable. And without that bond, they were no different from strangers to me. However, when those two people, both over fifty, knelt before me, begging me not to give up on treatment, begging me to try other options… my heart still ached. I tried to pull them up, my tear ducts losing control. I couldn’t get them to stand, so I could only kneel down with them, tears blurring my vision. How was I supposed to explain to these two elderly people, who had just found their lost child, that they were about to face the pain of losing her all over again? When my life expectancy was down to just three months, I didn’t want to waste that time in sterile hospital rooms, enduring endless, agonizing chemotherapy, just to gamble on a one-in-a-ten-thousand chance of survival. How was I supposed to explain to myself why, looking back on my past, I realized I had wasted my entire twenty-something years? It’ll be better after midterms… it’ll be better after graduation… it’ll be better once I find a job… it’ll be better once I get married and have kids… My time was spent either surviving or waiting, as if my life would only become happy and fulfilling after passing some arbitrary milestone. It wasn’t until death was at my doorstep that I suddenly realized I had never done a single thing for myself in this lifetime. Even the love I fought so hard for was just me being a placeholder for someone else. As the song of my life dwindled down to its final three movements, I finally gathered the courage to take the conductor’s baton for myself. So, I wasn’t seeking death; I was seeking life. For my last three months, I wanted to truly live for myself… But could I? I cried like a mess, my words jumbled and incoherent. I originally thought my parents would firmly object, using their status as the ones who brought me into this world to forbid me from acting so recklessly. But instead, they said “Okay.” Even though they were crying a river of tears, even though they seemed to age ten years in the blink of an eye, they still said “Okay.” They said, “No matter what you choose, we will always love you.” I froze, and then, I sobbed uncontrollably. It turns out, I actually had really wonderful parents. It turns out, my life could have been really happy. Once everyone had calmed down, my mom held my hand tightly and showed me photos from when I was little. In the pictures, her younger self was holding two chubby little bundles, smiling radiantly. She pointed at an old photo and laughed, “Look at this one, Sparky. Your dad was trying to change your diaper for the first time, but he couldn’t tell the front from the back, and you ended up smearing poop all over his face…” As she laughed, her emotions broke down again. She cried, her mouth wide open but no sound coming out. Yet I could tell she was screaming, “My Sparky.” How was she supposed to accept this kind of ending? She’s a mother… she’s a mother! Having to watch her own child march toward death—how could she bear it? My dad held my devastated mom, his cloudy eyes suppressing tears. He smiled kindly and waved me off. “Go on. Go do what you want to do. Audrey, spend more time with your sister. All these years… she’s had it hard, all alone.” This sudden outpouring of care made me want to run away. My heart felt like a towel being wrung out, throbbing with pain. Audrey followed closely behind me. Her hands and feet were weak, but she still managed to look up at me and smile. “Sis, where are we going?” I took a few deep breaths to calm the throbbing pain. After thinking for a moment, I still asked the question: “If they love me so much, why didn’t they ever come looking for me?” Audrey’s eyelashes fluttered, and she told me the story of what happened back then. It turned out that when I got lost at the carnival, my mom immediately started looking for me and called the police. Witnesses said they saw me being carried away, and the police managed to track down the license plate of the kidnappers’ car. However, by the time they found the car, it had been involved in a major accident out of state. The gas tank exploded. All that was left in the wreckage was the charred body of an adult in the driver’s seat… and the charred body of a toddler in the trunk, burned beyond recognition. All the evidence pointed to me being kidnapped and then dying in the car crash. But my parents always firmly believed I was still alive. My mom quit her job and put up missing person posters everywhere. My previously healthy dad developed all sorts of illnesses practically overnight. If it weren’t for their younger daughter, Audrey, being there, the couple wouldn’t have survived until today. I tried desperately to recall my past. I did remember being placed in the passenger seat. After that, I slept for a long time. Maybe because I wasn’t crying or making a fuss, the person got out of the car midway and left me alone. Not long after, another person got into the car. Seeing me, he seemed very surprised. He carried me out of the car, put me in a small corner, and my last memory was of the back of a car driving away. Thinking about it now, it’s very likely the kidnappers ran into a car thief. The car thief threw me out of the passenger seat, but didn’t notice there was another kidnapped child in the trunk. In the end, the car thief got into an accident, and because of that, I escaped being trafficked and ended up in an orphanage instead. I really did experience all the coincidences in the world. And with a life like this, was I lucky, or unlucky? I couldn’t figure it out, and I didn’t have the time to try. At least for the days I had left, I wanted to be happy. I pulled out a crumpled piece of loose-leaf paper and unfolded it. The top prominently read four big words: “Bucket List” Audrey looked over, and I explained, “I wrote this back when I was 18. I had just watched the movie The Bucket List and thought it was fun, so I copied the idea and wrote one too. Who knew I’d actually need to use it someday? Good thing I didn’t throw it away.” Saying that, I pulled out a lipstick and crossed out the first three items on the paper: Live to be 100. Travel the whole world. Marry the person I love most. I put the lipstick away and smiled at Audrey. “Not bad. A good start is half the battle. I’ve already crossed three wishes off the list so fast.” Audrey covered her mouth tightly, her thick sobs making her words come out squeaky. “Sorry… Sis, I need to go to the bathroom.” I watched Audrey stumble away, the smile on my lips slowly fading. Was it because I hadn’t joked around in so long that my skills were rusty? Why did my jokes only make people cry now? “Chloe.” I was lost in thought when I heard the voice behind me—the voice I used to long for even in my dreams. I turned around and looked at Sean. He was wearing a black trench coat. His tall, lean figure standing there was a sight to behold. Seeing my bloodshot eyes, Sean reached out to take my hand, his voice gentle enough to melt ice. “Baby, let’s go to the hospital. Be a good girl.” I pulled my hand back and stepped away. “Piss off.” Sean stiffened but still tried to coax me. “Baby, I was wrong before. I apologize. That comment was just a joke. I didn’t know you were really… I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to curse you. I had a little to drink that day, and I don’t even know where I copy-pasted that sentence from. I didn’t mean it. Can you forgive me, baby?” I stuck with my original statement: “Piss off.” Sean’s face finally darkened. “Chloe, I understand you’re in a bad mood because you’re sick, but can you stop throwing childish tantrums? I heard from Mr. Davis that you’re planning to refuse treatment. Taking it out on your own body just to spite me—is that really worth it? Is that fair to Mr. Davis and your mom?” More guilt-tripping? I grinned. “Life is as short as a fart. As long as I’m enjoying myself, that’s all that matters.” Sean froze, then frowned, clearly displeased with my “vulgar language.” “Chloe, can you stop acting so neurotic all the time? Look at Audrey. A refined lady like her is much more likable.” I dropped my smile. “Sean, did you know? I actually heard the name ‘Audrey’ a long time ago.” Sean stiffened. “That day, you had a little to drink too. You were drunk, holding me, and kept mumbling ‘Audrey’, ‘Audrey’. But the funny part is, I actually thought you were reciting poetry. A sudden look back, and there she is, in the dim, fading light… Ah.” I stared at him, without a trace of a smile. “When you looked back, who did you actually see? The fading light, or Audrey?” Sean’s face turned pale. He murmured, “Chloe,” his hand hovering mid-air, trying to reach for me. Even though he was within arm’s reach, it felt like we were separated by life and death. “Sean, tell me the truth. Did you ever love me? Just me, pure and simple, not as a replacement for anyone else?” I looked at him pleadingly. “You don’t want me to take your lies to the grave, do you? I just want the truth.” Sean lowered his eyes and turned his head. He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse. “You… are more suitable for marriage.” I let out a soft “Ah.” The silence in my chest was terrifying. It turns out that when a person is about to die, the first thing to go is the heart. And right at that moment, Audrey came sprinting over, her eyes red, and planted a kick square in Sean’s back— “Go fuck yourself! Stay away from my sister!” Sean stumbled forward from the kick. When he turned around and saw it was Audrey, his face was a picture of shock. “Audrey?” And Audrey, the “refined lady” he just praised, was shielding me with one hand and pointing right at Sean’s nose with the other, screaming at him: “You disgusting piece of trash, stop pretending to be so devoted! You want your cake and to eat it too. White rose, backup plan—you’re just playing games and you actually got addicted to it. You really think you’re some great romantic, don’t you?!” “Audrey, stop.” I reached out to stop the enraged Audrey. Seeing this, Sean looked slightly surprised, and even a little touched, as if he was seeing me for the first time. But Audrey was anxious. “Sis, you can’t be soft on him! He’s just an empty shell of a scumbag! He can’t stand being lonely, but he wants to act like a devoted lover. He…” “Audrey, don’t do that.” I cut her off, shaking my head gently. “Don’t just use your words without using your hands.” Audrey stared blankly. Sean looked even more incredulous. I took out my lipstick and crossed out the fourth item on the list: 4. Beat up a jerk. I gave Sean a radiant smile. “Sean, I will take my disgust for you to the grave.” Then, I kicked him hard.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411844”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The power went out on the very first night I was alone with my arranged live-in fiancé. In the pitch black, I kicked him. “I want to take a bath.” After he drew the bathwater, I lazily tugged on his sleeve: “…Don’t leave. I’m afraid of the dark.” 1 I woke up and realized I was eighteen again. My future husband-of-convenience was helping me grade my practice SATs. Staring at the page full of red Xs, he frowned deeply. “…You really think you’re going to get into Stanford like this?” Ignoring the Stanford comment, I tilted my head, leaned in close, and asked curiously, “Mason, do you have a crush on me?” Scratch— His pen drew a long, harsh line across the paper. Mason stared at me, a mix of shock and embarrassment tumbling in his eyes. After a long moment, he scoffed, “And what if I do?” Tsk. Nineteen-year-old Mason was still too young to hide his emotions properly. I let out a soft “Oh,” buried my head back in my scratch paper, and pretended nothing had happened. As I absentmindedly counted my wrong answers, Mason’s low, strained voice sounded next to my ear, like he had been holding it in for ages. “Stella.” He gritted his teeth, his eyes fierce. “…Stop messing with me.” Hearing this, I turned to look at him, my expression unusually serious. “Mason—” He gripped his pen tightly. Me: “I’m hungry.” Mason stood up abruptly, shot me an icy glare, and then—marched into the kitchen. I couldn’t hold it in; I laughed out loud. 2 The year my dad brought him home, Mason was only fourteen. He was scrawny, wearing a faded, oversized button-down and dirty sneakers. He stood in our living room, pressing his lips together, trying desperately to hide the awkward anxiety in his eyes. I stood at the top of the stairs. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he was the first to look away. Gloomy, sensitive, fiercely proud yet deeply insecure. That was my first impression of him. When it came to his arrival, I wasn’t exactly welcoming, but I didn’t reject him either. As long as he wasn’t my dad’s illegitimate son, everything was fine. Mason was only a year older than me. He should have already started college, but because of me, he held back and repeated his senior year. After we got married, Mason became a man of few words, always busy with work, but incredible in bed. Aside from the lack of romance, you could say we had the perfect marriage. In the tenth year of our marriage of convenience… I accidentally discovered that he had been secretly in love with me for a very, very long time. The day after I found out, I woke up and found myself back in the summer after my high school graduation. So what now? Looking at Mason carrying a slice of cake over to me—standing tall, his profile sharp and handsome—I decided I didn’t want a different husband. I kicked off my slippers and used my toes to hook around his waist. “I’m so tired.” I lounged back in my chair, opening my mouth. “…Feed it to me.” Mason’s eyes were ice cold. We stared at each other for a long time, and he was the first to concede. Halfway through feeding me the cake, Mason jolted, grabbing my wandering foot. His voice was fierce and cold, laced with a heavy warning. “Stella. You better behave.” Fine. I shrugged and pulled my foot back. Mason took a moment to compose himself, then with a stony face, continued feeding me the cake. I pushed his hand away and tilted my head at him. “You eat some too.” Mason paused. His long, strong fingers gripped the fork as he took a bite of the remaining cake. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and a tiny dab of frosting stuck to the corner of his mouth. Looks delicious. And I wasn’t talking about the cake. Smiling wickedly, I looked at him with feigned curiosity. “Mason, you just used my fork… Does that count as an indirect kiss?” Mason gripped the handle of the fork, his face full of restraint. “Stella.” I didn’t let him finish, continuing on my own. “No, it doesn’t.” I leaned over, licked the frosting right off the corner of his mouth, and nodded in satisfaction. “…That is an indirect kiss.” Mason’s spine went completely rigid. A flash of intense embarrassment crossed his handsome face. His self-control was truly impressive. Even after all that, his eyes just got fiercer, but he didn’t react physically. Oh, wait. Actually, there was a reaction. I decided to rein it in a bit, switching to verbal teasing instead of physical. “You’re so mean, Mason.” “You clearly liked it, didn’t you?” Mason’s jaw clenched tightly. “…Is this how you treat me?” “Stella.” His expression looked pained. “I am not your toy.” Tsk. Nineteen-year-old Mason was so fun to tease. I just couldn’t help myself. “Of course you aren’t a toy.” I dropped the playful smile and looked at him seriously. “You’re… my live-in fiancé, obviously.” Perfect. That successfully pissed him off enough to make him storm out. Watching his slightly stiff, awkward gait as he walked away, I finally felt a little better. Honestly, I was still mad. He loved me, yet he never told me. Watching his retreating back, I let out a cold scoff. Fine. Keep holding it in, then. 3 Actually, Mason didn’t need to worry. My SAT scores weren’t as low as he expected; I could absolutely get into Stanford. Having lived through this once, I didn’t change my major either. In my past life, he stubbornly insisted on going to Stanford with me to prove his worth to my parents. But now, I suddenly understood. Maybe he just purely wanted to keep me by his side? On the third day after submitting our college applications, Mason planned to return to his hometown. After all, he had been away for five years and it was time for a visit. Our memories overlapped. But what was different this time was that he had a plus-one. We crossed the country, and I shamelessly tagged along with him to a place called Oakhaven. It was an old, rustic little town. It didn’t have the neon lights or the glitz and glamour of the city. It just had a few narrow roads and dim streetlights. Mason grabbed his luggage and stopped in front of an old house. The house was old but spacious. I knew it belonged to his late grandmother. Because his closest relatives had passed away too early, he was kicked around like a soccer ball when he was little, begging for scraps at other people’s houses. That was why he looked so ragged the first time we met. Mason bustled around, cleaning the old house until it was spotless. I lay on a wicker chair, rocking back and forth, staring at the wooden carvings on the ceiling beams. I, Stella Sterling, had never done a day of hard labor in my life. But Mason was the epitome of a kid who had to grow up too fast. The old house hadn’t been lived in for a long time, which I expected. What I didn’t expect was that the power would go out on the very first night we were alone together. In the pitch black, I couldn’t help but kick him. “I want to take a bath.” Mason knew my habits. I bathed every single day, and a power outage wasn’t going to stop me. He found some candles, lit them, and silently went to heat up water for me. After he prepared the bathwater, he turned to leave. I lazily tugged on his sleeve: “…Don’t leave. I’m afraid of the dark.” Mason’s back, illuminated by the candle he was holding, went stiff. It was incredibly quiet, and faintly, I could hear the sound of him grinding his teeth. “…Stella, do you have any idea what you’re saying?” “I do.” I slipped off my pleated skirt and casually tossed it into the wooden hamper nearby. “…I said I’m afraid of the dark.” The sound of fabric brushing against skin echoed softly. Mason’s breathing noticeably quickened. When he spoke again, his voice carried a heavy warning. “Stella!” Tsk. I hear you, I hear you. Both ears work fine. Yelling so fiercely, yet standing there with his back to me, not daring to move an inch. I gathered my hair up, paying him no mind. I scooped up some water and poured it over my shoulders. Setting everything else aside, Mason was incredibly good at getting the bathwater to the perfect temperature. But hearing the splashing water, he was probably going crazy. Hehe. He probably never expected me to actually go through with it. 4 I admit, I had been bullying Mason quite frequently these past few days. He seemed to be angry every single day. But I was used to it. After dealing with him for so many years, Mason had never smiled at me. Whether it was before or after we got married, he always called me by my full name, “Stella Sterling.” It was genuinely irritating. In the backyard, Mason was sitting by the oak tree, washing clothes by hand. The muscles in his arms were defined but not overly bulky. The soapy suds sticking to his skin inexplicably gave off a domestic, husband-material vibe. He looked healthy, his skin slightly tanned, radiating youthful energy, yet his eyes remained fierce and brooding. The Mason from ten years in the future? I definitely couldn’t outplay him. But the Mason right in front of me was only nineteen. Fresh, green, and radiating awkward youth. He was as stubborn as a wild mustang, and aside from bucking, he didn’t know what else to do. If I were actually the eighteen-year-old Stella, I really wouldn’t have known how to handle him. But I wasn’t. Taking my time, I strolled toward the oak tree. I stopped right behind him and then shamelessly hopped onto his back. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I couldn’t help but complain in his ear: “…Mason, I really, really hate it when you call me by my full name.” I looked distressed. “Why don’t you call me ‘Babe’? Or ‘Sweetheart’? That works too.” Mason’s back was as rigid as a steel board. His right hand tightly gripped a wad of fabric, the veins bulging on the back of his hand. Taking a deep breath, he stood up. “Stella!” Here we go again. I ignored it, dangling off his back and swaying. Nuzzling his cheek, I kept teasing him: “…Mason, call me ‘Honey,’ please? I’ll buy you candy.” Mason didn’t dare touch my legs; he only dared to issue verbal warnings. “Stella, don’t push it!” Stella, stop messing with me. Stella, you better behave. Stella, don’t push it. Those were the only three phrases he ever used with me, recycled over and over again. But I always turned a deaf ear. Hugging his neck, I was relentless. “Mason, you’re not allowed to be so mean to me! I don’t like it!” Mason didn’t respond. See? He was mad again. Mason didn’t even reach back to support me; he just let me dangle there as he marched straight into the house. He pried my hands off with one hand and tossed me onto the bed. Zero chivalry. Dissatisfied, I rolled around on the bed twice. I hooked my finger through the strap of a flimsy piece of fabric on the edge of the bed and tossed it at his chest, my tone entirely entitled. “…Wash this too.” Mason instinctively caught it. Looking at the fabric in his hands, his face turned a chaotic mix of red and pale green. I looked the picture of innocence. “I can’t touch cold water, you know that.” He held it in, and held it in again. Finally, he turned around and obediently walked back out to the yard. “Mason.” I picked up a book from the nightstand and called out to him. Flipping to the page I had dog-eared last night, I didn’t forget to remind him: “…That thing in your left hand. Don’t wash it with my clothes.” I crinkled my nose, looking incredibly serious. “Ugh… the smell of your ‘alone time’ is way too strong. I hate it.” “Stella!” Mason spun around in shock, his neck flushing bright red as he looked at me in disbelief. “Do you have absolutely no shame?!” Oh? Is he embarrassed and angry now? I tilted my head, looking at the bundle of light blue fabric in his left hand. “Actually— “I prefer you in tight briefs.” Even though that style would probably be a bit uncomfortable for him. But what did that have to do with me… right? 5 Mason had been ignoring me for three days. Even though he still acted like a devoted caretaker, willingly bringing me food and water, the moment I opened my mouth, he would turn and walk away. Standing in the yard, he looked as rigid as a small pine tree. After having so many deep, intimate conversations with him in the future, I obviously knew that briefs were definitely uncomfortable for him. Thinking about it, I licked my lips. I was kind of craving him. So I called out, “Mason.” Mason turned and walked away. This time, he walked straight out the front gate. I pouted, slowly walked to the door, and took a look outside. He was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t turn back. Instead, I headed to the yard next door. The little girl with pigtails was doing her homework on a stool. When she looked up and saw me, her eyes instantly lit up. “Stella!” Mason definitely wouldn’t have guessed that if he wouldn’t play with me, I could find someone else. In the few short days he refused to acknowledge me, I had built a deep friendship with the little girl next door. Daisy was adorable, and she loved coming over to play with me. Of course. Only when Mason wasn’t around. It was scorching hot lately, but Oakhaven was near the water and densely wooded, making it much cooler than the city. Daisy was almost done with her homework. She had made plans with her friends to go catching frogs and picking wild blackberries by the creek that afternoon. Seeing that I was bored, she loyally invited me along. Catching frogs? Sounded fun. I accepted the invitation and happily tagged along. I spent the entire afternoon with the kids. We flipped over every rock in the shallows, caught a whole bucket of tadpoles, and picked a massive basket of blackberries, having the time of our lives. When I got home at dusk, I was met with Mason’s wrath. He stood in the doorway, his face ashen, looking like he wanted to eat me alive. “Stella!” Holding two lotus flowers I had picked, I brushed past him, letting my skirt intentionally graze his calf. I carefully placed the flowers in a water basin, my tone careless. “…What?” Mason’s expression instantly darkened even more, but his tone leveled out. “Why did you run off without saying anything? Do you know I’ve been looking for you all afternoon?” Why didn’t I say anything? Because you ran away! If you run, I run. I gave a dismissive “Oh” and kept arranging my flowers. Mason suddenly exploded. Before I could even put the last flower in the water, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the house. Stumbling into the bedroom, I was thrown onto the bed. Looking at Mason’s face, my eye twitched, and I didn’t hesitate to scramble toward the corner of the bed. But Mason was faster. He reached out, grabbed my ankle, and pulled me back. Pinning both my wrists with one hand and pressing his knee against my legs, his voice was thick with fury. “…Stella, do you know how high and deep the mountains are out here? Do you know what happens if you get taken by human traffickers?! Do you want to be chained up in a basement and turned into an incubator?!” I squirmed, realizing I was completely pinned and couldn’t break free. I was going to reasonably explain, “I’m an adult, I have my own judgment,” but what actually came out of my mouth was, “None of your business.” Mason let out an exasperated laugh, nodding continuously. “…Stella, you’re really something.” My vision was forcefully spun around. Mason aggressively flipped me onto my stomach before I could even react. Smack— A sharp sting radiated from my backside straight to my brain. One after another. This was the first time in my life I had ever been spanked. I never expected the person to do it would be Mason. He was too strong; I couldn’t break free. I clamped my mouth shut, stubbornly refusing to beg for mercy. His hand was fast and ruthless, refusing to stop. Until finally, it hurt too much to bear, and I cried out his name: “Mason… it really hurts.” My voice was already breaking with tears. I didn’t actually want to cry. But it hurt so much, I couldn’t help it. Mason’s hand stopped. His grip loosened, and I could finally move again. My backside was burning. With my eyes closed, I slowly reached back, my trembling fingers brushing against it. A wave of intense pain shot straight to my brain. Tears dripped steadily onto the bedsheets. Mason didn’t say a word. Furious and terrified, I pulled the blanket over myself, refusing to look at him. “…Get out. I don’t want to see you right now!” My voice was muffled and completely lacked any threat. But Mason actually left. He walked out without saying a single word. An overwhelming wave of grievance washed over me, and I cried even harder. Once I started sobbing out loud, I finally felt a little better. I hadn’t eaten dinner tonight. But I was so exhausted that, crying as I was, I didn’t even realize when I fell asleep. 6 When I woke up the next day, it was broad daylight. I sniffed myself—a faint smell of sweat mixed with a heavy scent of medicinal ointment. I smelled terrible. Frowning in disgust, I grabbed my clothes and headed to the rustic bathroom. Mason wasn’t there, but the bathwater was already prepared. I didn’t refuse. After all, in his eyes, I, Stella Sterling, would never mistreat myself for anyone’s sake. And I couldn’t deny it; it was the truth. The pain was still stubbornly there. I managed to finish my bath with a grimace, finally feeling much better. As I stepped out drying my hair, breakfast was already laid out on the table, but Mason was still nowhere to be seen. I let out a cold laugh. Tsk. Trying to play the silent, devoted house-elf? If Mason thought he could get my forgiveness this easily, he was dead wrong. My parents were business people; they were master calculators. I was their flesh and blood. Did he think I’d take a loss? While I was showering, I had thought it through. Yes, I had taken the joke too far yesterday, but Mason hitting me was crossing a line, and he had to pay for it. Thinking about it, a surge of resentment welled up inside me. How dare Mason spank me—and in such a humiliating spot, too! Continuing to dry my hair, pretending I hadn’t seen the food, I marched angrily into my room and slammed the door shut. Here was my strategy: refusing to eat his food was my declaration of war. For the next two days, I used the bathwater he prepared and wore the clothes he washed, but I absolutely refused to eat the food he cooked, and I refused to speak to him. This wasn’t just throwing a tantrum. This was psychological warfare. Dealing with someone like Mason required extreme measures. Push him into a corner so he had nowhere to run, then give him the cold shoulder, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It was a battle of wills. My confidence stemmed from the fact that Mason cared about me. Sure, my stomach would suffer a bit, but obviously, the results would be highly effective. Mason was the first to break. On the evening of the second day of my hunger strike, he finally appeared before me. “Stella.” He stood there holding a bowl of porridge, suppressing his anger. “…Are you trying to starve yourself to death?” I turned my back to him, lying on my side on the bed, treating his words like wind passing my ears. The room fell silent, leaving only the sound of our breathing—one steady, one erratic. After a long time, Mason’s voice broke the silence again. “Stella.” His voice was very soft, and I heard him say, “…You win, Stella.” I rolled over and lay flat on my back. I gave him a response, but not much of one. Seeing my attitude, Mason simply gave up struggling. He asked in defeat, “Stella, what exactly do you want?” I hid my secret delight, my expression flat. “…Will you give me whatever I want?” After a moment of silence, Mason gave a difficult nod. “Yes. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” I rolled over again, leaning over the edge of the bed, my tone fierce: “Apologize to me!” Mason: “…I’m sorry.” I was somewhat satisfied. My shoulders instantly slumped, my voice weak. “Hurry up and feed me. I don’t even have the strength to hold the bowl.” This was completely different from the scenario I had envisioned. I originally wanted to string him along a bit more and negotiate terms, but I was just too hungry to maintain the aloof facade. No choice. Food is life. Starving for two whole days was already my absolute limit. Mason pressed his lips together tightly, holding back his temper as he fed me. “…Didn’t you even know how to sneak into the kitchen for a snack?!” “I would never!” I swallowed a large mouthful of porridge, my tone aggrieved yet defiant. “Even if I starved to death, I, Stella Sterling, would never bow down for a bowl of rice!” Thinking about the brutal beating I had endured, seeing Mason made me angry all over again. “…I’m still mad, Mason. How could you be so mean to me!” “You were the one not listening first.” Mason wiped my mouth for me. “And your attitude wasn’t right either.” “Then you still shouldn’t have spanked me!” I emphasized repeatedly, my tone firm. “I am an adult. No one is allowed to treat me like that, and neither are you!” Thinking for a moment, I added, “…Of course, if it’s a little kink while we’re sleeping together, that’s fine, but to be fair, I get to hit you back.” “Stella!” Mason was embarrassed and furious once again. “Shut up!” So boring. I was just making a joke. Mason has absolutely zero sense of humor. Full and satisfied, Mason went to wash the dishes. His movements were fast. By the time I finished showering and came out, he had already cleaned up. At this point, I had regained my usual calm rationality. Lying on my stomach on the bed, I called out without hesitation: “Mason!” He walked over, his tone unhappy: “What?” “Oh, nothing.” I casually lifted the hem of my nightgown, bossing him around with complete entitlement. “Hurry up and apply my ointment.” Mason snapped his eyes shut with lightning speed, veins popping on his forehead. “Stel-la, Ster-ling!” He gritted out my name through clenched teeth, his voice full of anger and warning. Tsk, playing the prude. He didn’t even know how many times he had touched me over the last two days, yet here he was acting all innocent. But I decided not to push him any further. After all, he was only nineteen. Getting mad all the time is bad for your health. “Okay, okay, no ointment then.” Adjusting my dress, I sat up straight, looking as proper as could be. “…Could my man please dry my hair for me?” Mason finally lowered his hands. Perhaps because the title was a bit embarrassing, he looked a little flushed with frustration. “Stella.” He grabbed the hairdryer and walked over to me, plugging it in while muttering, “You need to dial it back!” I just said “Oh” and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Stella!”

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