Category: English

On the eve of our wedding, during a romantic getaway, Caleb Shaw fell in love at first sight with the owner of a local bed and breakfast. He stubbornly believed she was the reincarnation of his deceased first love, a gift from heaven for his pitiful soul. In a fit of rage, I broke up with him, only to encounter a landslide on my way down the mountain. Caleb came to my rescue and ended up injuring his leg. Just like that, the rift between us disappeared, and we entered into marriage. It wasn’t until my later years, when I was diagnosed with cancer and discovered that our vast household couldn’t even afford my medical bills, that I learned the truth. All these years, Caleb had been secretly supporting that bed and breakfast owner from years ago. Even my children agreed with his actions. So, I died of anger. When I opened my eyes again, faced with Caleb’s confession, I shouted at him, slamming my hand on the table: “I support your brave pursuit of love!” The crowd, who had been drinking and chatting merrily, all stopped what they were doing when they heard my loud declaration of support. As curious gazes turned towards us, the usually cool and collected Caleb had somehow turned pale, grabbing my wrist and warning me with his eyes to stop making a scene. In my past life, I would have backed down at the first sign of his anger, always afraid of upsetting him. But now, I only wanted to expose the hypocritical face behind his mask! With this thought, I turned to meet Caleb’s disapproving eyes, twisted my hand to grasp his wrist, and walked towards the “main character” surrounded by the crowd. That is, Tara Swan, the owner of this bed and breakfast and the object of Caleb’s love at first sight. “Aria!” Sensing my next move, he growled at me with furrowed brows. But I showed no signs of stopping. Losing face, Caleb angrily shook off my hand: “This trip was meant to test our relationship. I’ve only experienced a feeling of attraction, I haven’t done anything to betray you. Why are you being so aggressive?” As he finished speaking, the crowd let out a collective sigh. At this moment, Tara, dressed in a white dress, slowly stepped forward from the crowd, stopping about three feet away from me. She first observed Caleb for a moment, then noticed his expensive watch peeking out from under his sleeve. Her gaze then shifted to me, looking me up and down. After a long while, she burst out laughing: “So this is a breakup trip.” “Miss Winters, you won’t even share a room with your boyfriend on a trip, and now you’re trying to control your boyfriend’s heart. Don’t you think you’re being too controlling?” She subtly pulled Caleb to her side. Seeing that Caleb had no intention of arguing, I smirked and pulled out the wedding photos stored on my phone. Smiling, I pushed the now ashen-faced Caleb towards Tara. “You’re right, I think I’m being too controlling too.” Then I turned to Caleb and raised my voice: “You should cherish this fate! Don’t miss out again!” “I’ll be waiting for your wedding invitation. Don’t worry, I won’t cling to you. I’ll explain about our engagement to my parents!” With that, I pretended to wipe away non-existent tears from the corner of my eyes, feigning heartbreak. In contrast, Caleb was now staring dazedly at the confused Tara in front of him. “Lena…” As Caleb’s hoarse voice rang out, the whole scene erupted. Even Tara blushed and lowered her head shyly, but her body leaned in closer. Some people said Tara was being treated as a substitute, while others said Caleb had actually called out “Tara”. So, being the kind person I am, I turned back once more. Under Tara’s confused and smug gaze, I kindly said, “Oh, by the way, my ex-fiancé once had a first love named Lena Swann. Come to think of it, your names sound very similar!” Slap! As I turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of Tara angrily slapping Caleb. How satisfying! In my past life, after Caleb confessed his infidelity to me, Tara was also present. But I didn’t react like I did today. Instead, I was immersed in the pain of betrayal. It was my departure that gave him and Tara the opportunity to interact. From that day on, Caleb stubbornly believed that Tara was the reincarnation of Lena. Faced with my persuasion and anger, he would always look at me coldly, and finally say calmly: “Aria, you really can’t compare to Lena’s gentleness and understanding.” “Over the years, I’ve more than repaid the kindness the Winters family has shown me, and I married you as you wished. But now, my Lena is right in front of me. Why can’t you let me go and pursue my happiness?” Just like that, a honeymoon that started sweetly turned into a bitter separation. I had never seen him so cold before, and in my anger, I broke up with him, choosing to end this journey alone. But I never expected to encounter a landslide. Nor did I expect Caleb to come to my rescue, injuring his leg in the process. I thought there was still love between us, until our later years, that is, the thirtieth year of our marriage, when I was diagnosed with cancer. Caleb said he couldn’t afford the treatment, and our children used the company’s cash flow as an excuse to refuse to pay for my treatment. Disheartened, I accidentally discovered that over the years, all our assets had been transferred to the same account. And that account belonged to Tara Swan, the woman Caleb had fallen in love with years ago. Only then did I realize how foolish I had been all these years. Our children all knew about Tara’s existence, and even chose one holiday each year to visit her. In the moment before I died of anger, Caleb, his hair now gray, personally removed my oxygen tube, his smile vicious: “If it wasn’t for your parents threatening me with the failed project back then, how could I have let go of Tara? This is all your karma!” My children stood coldly by, watching silently before leaving. Thinking back now, perhaps I had already lost myself in my past life, which led to my death from anger. Ding dong! The vibration of my phone in my pocket pulled me back to reality. I looked at the landslide alert on the push notification, my eyes darkening slightly. After that unpleasant parting, Caleb seemed to have disappeared, nowhere to be seen in the entire scenic area. On the contrary, all the tourists in the bed and breakfast knew about the drama that day, and when they looked at me, there was always a hint of sympathy in their eyes. But I felt fortunate. Everything had been stopped at a critical point, and there would be no more life after marriage where I could only ask Caleb for money, no more pain of being coldly watched by the children I had painstakingly raised. For me, these were all good things. Looking at the azure sky outside the window, I was humming a tune and about to go out. As I opened the door, I ran into Caleb and Tara coming out of the opposite room. “Why are you wearing such a short skirt? Change it,” the man frowned and ordered instinctively, making Tara, who was still smiling, immediately frown. Perhaps realizing the change in his identity, Caleb awkwardly lit a cigarette. He pulled Tara’s jacket up a bit and explained coldly, “Tara and I are still getting to know each other, it’s nothing.” Hearing this, Tara looked at Caleb with some resentment, but after catching his eye, she quickly put on a smile as if nothing had happened. I didn’t want to bother with this flirtation between them, but as I turned to leave, Caleb grabbed me forcefully. He blew smoke rings towards my face, softening his voice: “Aria, stop making a fuss. I just wanted to find that feeling from the past.” “When the trip is over, we’ll go back and get married.” Hearing his ridiculous words, I violently shook off his hand and pointed at the hickey on his exposed collarbone, sneering, “Caleb Shaw, you dared to confess to me that you’ve changed your heart, why don’t you dare admit what you and Tara did in bed?” “You disgust me!” Caleb’s smoking motion paused slightly, he opened his mouth as if to say something to me, but was interrupted by the commotion in the distance. We saw Tara, dressed provocatively, drinking and chatting happily with those tourists. The next second, the possessiveness in Caleb’s eyes surfaced, and he rushed past me straight towards Tara. This was the first time he had abandoned me. Since he found the Winters family at eighteen and successfully moved into the Winters’ house, he had never abandoned me. At that time, I, just coming of age, often liked to use my spoiled rich girl temper to make things difficult for him, but every time he was like a wooden block, never getting angry. He said: “Aria, you just don’t know how to get along with people.” I thought he was the one who understood me. So, I fell head over heels for him. Even though I’ve lived another life, even though I shared a bed with him for over thirty years in my past life, I still felt a bit lost at this moment. But this sense of loss was quickly diluted. At three in the morning, while I was still drinking in the small bar, I heard the sound of an ambulance. After asking around, I found out that inside lay Tara and a man. “Don’t know what conflict these two had, they ran up to the snow mountain, and on their way down, they both took a tumble. That’s why they’re in the hospital now.” A tumble. It was as if some important information flashed through my brain, making me follow them to the hospital involuntarily. But it would have been better if I hadn’t gone. This visit actually allowed me to know the answer to the question that puzzled me most in my past life! As the sky began to lighten slightly, many of the onlookers who had come to see what was happening dispersed. I found Caleb’s attending physician, claiming to be his fiancée. Seeing my anxious appearance, he shook his head regretfully: “Your fiancé’s leg was crushed too severely by a heavy object. Even if he wakes up, I’m afraid he’ll be left with a permanent disability!” It was as if my brain had been hit hard with a club, with only a constant buzzing sound in my ears. After a long while, after composing myself, I tentatively asked, “A disability? Like a limp?” The doctor nodded. At that moment, the last wall in my heart completely collapsed. I checked the calendar and found that in two days, it would be the day I left after arguing with Caleb in my past life. So, when he came to save me, his leg was already injured? But why did he do this! At this moment, I really wanted to rush into the ward, grab his collar, and question him properly. But what’s the use of that? This hasn’t happened in this life, and even if I said it, he would only think I was crazy. I don’t know how I walked out of the hospital. The various incidents of Caleb protecting me under him when the landslide collapsed in my past life played like a slideshow in my mind. I once asked him, do you regret saving me? But he held my hand, his eyes full of tenderness: “I’ve never regretted any decision involving you.” I tilted my head back to force back the tears, took off the ring that already had marks, and threw it into the sewer. As the ring made a series of clanging sounds as it hit the ground, I slowly released my nails that were deeply embedded in my palm… After leaving the hospital, I still pretended I didn’t know anything, seriously playing the role of a woman hurt in a relationship. I spent my days either drunk in the bar or lying in my room sleeping. During this time, I didn’t forget to bombard Caleb with text messages, creating the illusion that I was heartbroken and about to leave. [Caleb, can you not leave me? I can’t live without you.] [Caleb Shaw, if you don’t come and comfort me, I’m going home by myself!] … Watching the identical messages from my past life being sent one by one, I expressionlessly began to pack my luggage. Replicating the exact scene of leaving from my past life. Sure enough, Caleb got anxious. I opened the surveillance camera I had installed before leaving, and saw Caleb pushing his wheelchair upstairs, anxiously asking Tara to open my room. But when he saw my tidy room, there was no trace of anxiety on his face, instead, there was even a hint of relief. Could I have guessed wrong? Just as I was pondering, Caleb received a phone call, and his face immediately became serious, pushing his wheelchair out. Seeing this, I suddenly remembered Caleb’s resentment towards me in my past life. I hurriedly called my assistant, and after investigation, found out that his project had indeed incurred losses. As for that phone call, it should be from my parents’ people who learned about his change of heart, threatening him out of fear that I would be upset. Ding dong. Caleb was trying to crack the password to open my location. My heart trembled, looking at my position 800 meters away from the landslide site, I felt a bit more at ease. Soon after, Caleb rushed over. But the moment he got out of the car, the landslide collapsed. “Aria!” “Where are you, don’t scare me, Aria!” Caleb was stunned for only a second before he started shouting my name at the top of his lungs. As the rescue team arrived, more and more people gathered, and my baseball cap that I had placed in advance was spotted by the sharp-eyed Caleb. He ignored the dissuasion of the people around him and rushed in: “That’s my fiancée’s hat, I have to save her!” In the chaos, no one noticed his limp. He was seen hugging my hat, constantly moving stones, and even took time to answer a phone call, crying out in grief: “Uncle, Aunt, Aria encountered a landslide, I’m afraid I can’t fulfill what you asked me to do…” I clearly saw the smirk on his face after he succeeded. So, standing in the crowd, I called out: “Caleb Shaw, I’m here!” Hearing this, Caleb turned to look at me almost mechanically, his lips trembling in disbelief as he opened his mouth: “How are you…”

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When Ethan White, Selena Quinn’s first love, came to visit her on behalf of the school, he smiled softly, “Ms. Quinn’s students are everywhere, thanks in no small part to your support, Mr. Green. But Mr. Green, you need to be more careful from now on. How did you let her catch a cold in the rain?” My gaze shifted to the woman on the bed, whose hair was streaked with gray, but her eyes were locked intensely on Ethan. I couldn’t help but offer a humorless smile, “Wasn’t it you who invited her for that walk in the rain, leading to her getting sick? Or have you conveniently forgotten? Ethan, was it romantic? This is what she traded her health for.” When Ethan arrived for the visit, a group of students trailed behind him. At my words, they stood quietly in the corner of the room, exchanging nervous glances but too scared to say a word. Selena’s expression darkened, her eyes flashing with anger. “Jacob Green! What kind of nonsense are you spouting!” she yelled. I had married Selena for forty years. She was an esteemed university professor, and I had been the quiet, steady force at home, tending to her needs. For forty years, I watched as Ethan, her first love, would appear with every change of season. He’d seek her out to listen to the rain, admire the first snowfall, mourn the fallen flowers, and walk with her through the lush, green parks. Every moment seemed to drip with romance as if they were characters in a story written by fate. But Selena had pollen allergies. A simple stroll in the garden left her itching and miserable. And who had always been there to care for her after these romantic escapades? Me. Always me. This time, she had gotten caught in the rain as she was recovering from a major illness. All because Ethan had insisted that walking in the rain was the epitome of romance. I had warned her. Your health comes first, I had said. But she brushed me off as she scoffed, “You have no sense of romance at all!” Off she went with Ethan, down the tree-lined avenue. Upon returning, she collapsed with a fever. My heart turned cold at that moment. Ethan was her first love, the one she was supposed to marry before they mysteriously split up. Later, she met me and married me. But then he came back, and it was as if she was pulled back into that old orbit. From that moment on, it was like a storm I couldn’t stop. Seeing the look on my face, Ethan quickly tried to smooth things over, offering an explanation. “Ms. Quinn and I were just discussing work…” he said. I intervened, “I don’t care about your work. Just keep the class schedules to yourself next time. Because I’ve never seen ‘strolling in the rain’ listed as part of any curriculum. Selena, I’ve taken care of you for forty years, and I’m tired. Find someone else to do it.” I put down the water cup, not caring if my words stung, and walked out of the room. The sound of her violent coughing echoed behind me. Ethan’s alarmed voice followed, but I didn’t look back. Outside the hospital, my phone buzzed. It was our daughter, Cecil Green. I answered. “Dad, you’re overreacting! Leaving Mom alone in the hospital like that?” she yelled. “Mr. White was just joking, and you’re taking it so personally! Stop making a fuss and go back to take care of Mom.” As her vibrant voice filtered through the phone, a sense of disconnection clouded my mind. Is this truly my daughter? I pondered. Born of Selena, Cecil lacked any empathy for me. My voice turned icy. “Cecil, you’re an intellectual, too, but I don’t think you care about your mom. Your mom’s been sick for three days, and where have you been? You can’t be bothered to sit by her bedside, yet you have the audacity to question me? Are you such heartless? If Ethan is so great, why don’t you just let him be your dad?” I ended the call, and within moments, my phone buzzed with a message from Cecil. Cecil: [Dad, you’re totally unreasonable!] I shook my head, realizing my doting had perhaps been too generous, leading them to see my dedication as their due. Selena, with her sensitive digestion and allergy-prone constitution, had driven me to master the art of soup-making, cultivating in her a taste for the exquisite. Whenever she came back from one of her romantic outings with Ethan, she would need medication and my care. I was utterly drained. This time, she had returned from a lecturing trip, leaving her grappling with stomach issues due to the unfamiliar environment. She had barely left the hospital. And yet, Ethan, with his poetic notions, called her away for another stroll in the rain. I wanted to know what was inside Selena’s head. In the wake of her romantic whims, I spent the sleepless nights tending to her needs. One sentence from Ethan could erase the tapestry of my dedication. Their romance was woven through four decades of complex ties. Upon returning home, I was greeted by the familiar sights of Selena’s presence. Flowers were her passion, transforming our balcony into a floral gallery. I, a man of simple tastes, longed to cultivate vegetables, even if in a solitary pot. But she scoffed, “Why grow vegetables? This isn’t some rural backwater; it’s just not proper!” Her disapproval was law, so I abandoned the endeavor, though my soul still craved the verdant embrace of vegetable leaves. Now, it was time to move on.

I’ve been married to Selena for forty years. She’s a university professor, earning a comfortable twelve thousand dollars a month with all her allowances, while my retirement pension brought in a mere three thousand dollars. Each month, Selena would hand me three thousand dollars for our living expenses, telling me the rest of her income was being saved away for the future. “It’s all in the bankbook,” she’d say. “It’s in the wardrobe.” But when I took that bankbook to the bank, the truth hit me like a slap in the face. There was only eight thousand dollars in the account. But several large withdrawals had been made to an unfamiliar account. That account belonged to Ethan. All these years, while I had been pinching pennies and playing the dutiful husband, she had been siphoning our joint funds to support Ethan, her so-called “spiritual pillar.” I hadn’t wanted to make a scene. God knows I had tried to keep the peace. But her sheer audacity left me with no choice but to drop the pretense. I printed out the bank statements and marched straight to a law firm. I needed a divorce agreement, and I needed it fast. When I revealed my intent to divorce in my seventies, the lawyer gaped at me in shock. But then he simply nodded. “If you’re unhappy, Sir,” he said, “it’s best to cut your losses in time. No matter the age, if her heart isn’t here, you should make a clean break.” I agreed wholeheartedly. Within hours, the papers were drafted, and I sent the divorce agreement straight to Selena’s hospital room. It didn’t take long for her to call. The moment I answered, her voice erupted. “Jacob, what is the meaning of this? Just because I got a little wet and sick, you want a divorce? Is that it? You don’t want to take care of me anymore? Let me tell you, if you don’t want to take care of me, then never come back!” I indeed wouldn’t be coming back, I said calmly, “Selena, sign the divorce agreement as soon as possible.” I inhaled deeply as I ended the call. Selena likely believed I was just stirring up trouble once more. Throughout the years, Ethan had been the spark for numerous disputes between us. Over the years, she had accused me of being petty, of lacking grace. “Ethan lives alone,” she yelled. “We’ve been friends for years. What’s wrong with looking after him? You’ve been in your ivory tower too long, so you don’t understand the hardships of life.” I had mocked her, “If you care so much, why marry me?” She had gone wild, accusing me of jealousy. I seemed to strike a nerve because, after that argument, she didn’t come home for a week. Later, I found out why. A post on Ethan’s Facebook showed them together in Rainmith, strolling through gardens and listening to the rain. Immersed in their little world of classical beauty, they were carefree and oblivious to the pain they caused. Netizens had commented enviously, saying how lucky Ethan was to have such a “supportive partner.” Some even mistook them for a couple. But Ethan didn’t deny it. When I saw that, I said nothing, but I came home and tore up all of Selena’s manuscripts in a blind rage. I had gone mad, fighting with her until my voice was hoarse. But she met me with cold indifference as if my pain meant nothing. Even our daughter, Cecil, took her side, berating me and calling me hysterical. You’re unworthy of being the husband of my mother, she had yelled. They had forced this role upon me. Who made the rule that a professor’s spouse had to be all polished and genteel? I was a person with my own spectrum of feelings and needs, yet I couldn’t juggle affections like Selena did, with one love indoors and another out. If she couldn’t move on from Ethan, why then did she decide to tie her life with mine? Selena thought I was deliberately making things difficult for her, testing her limits to see if she’d break. But she didn’t expect what came next. After that call, I never visited her in the hospital again, leaving her unattended. However, Ethan was diligent, of course. He visited Selena whenever he could. Still, there was only so much one person could do. He couldn’t be everywhere at once. Before long, Selena couldn’t hold on anymore, so she was compelled to check out of the hospital. When she got home, she found I wasn’t there. My luggage was gone. Seeing that, Selena finally realized I was serious. A week passed before Cecil called me. “Dad,” she said, “Mom’s out of the hospital.” I argued, “If she’s out, then take good care of her. No need to call me.” There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line before Cecil stammered, “Dad, Mom’s not well yet. You’re really not coming to see her? What are you really upset about?”

Cecil was practically the spitting image of Selena. “Why would I come back?” I replied coldly. “She’s been doing just fine without me these days, hasn’t she? Tell her to sign the divorce agreement quickly, so we can part ways on good terms!” Cecil yelled, “Dad, you’re at this age and still talking about divorce? It’s embarrassing! Mom is at least a university professor…” “Are you done?” I interrupted. “If so, hang up. Don’t bother me unless it’s necessary!” I ended the call before she could say another word and looked around my little piece of heaven. I had bought this small farmhouse nearby with a large yard in the back. I planted sunflowers in the front. In the back, I was preparing to grow vegetables. For the first time in years, I was doing what I loved. The sunflowers, wild and untamed, burst with vitality. Once the seeds were sown, they reached for the light, flourishing with the wild abandon of weeds. The sight of the yard teeming with life brought a spontaneous smile to my face. “Selena,” I murmured, “without you, I can live the life I want. Without you, I can indulge myself without restraint.” For three consecutive days, Cecil and Selena kept sending messages and calling, but I ignored them all. Unexpectedly, they showed up at my door. The moment their car pulled up outside, I raised my eyebrows at the sight of Selena stepping out. Her expression was as cold and displeased as I had imagined. “Jacob,” she said, her voice dripping with disapproval, “you’ve had your time to cool off outside. I was in the hospital for so long, and here you are, living comfortably!” I smirked and replied, “Thanks to you, I’m doing quite well. So, what brings you here?” I turned back to my vegetable seeds, deliberately ignoring her. Her annoyance was palpable as she shouted, “Stop this nonsense. During my hospital stay, Ethan took care of me. You ran off in anger, but you’ve had your fun. Now, come back with me! And while you’re at it, let’s invite Ethan for dinner to thank him for his care.” Anger surged within me. I grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it in her direction. “Thank him? He got you sick; taking care of you was the least he could do! When have you ever thanked me for staying by your side in the hospital? For forty years, I was the one there, not him. Now, you want me to thank him? Bullshit! Selena, get out!” Her face turned pale and flushed red as she looked down at the dirt on her clothes. She screamed, “Jacob, enough! We’re family. What’s this talk of thanks?” “So, my efforts are taken for granted, but his occasional visits make you grateful?” I retorted. “Selena, you’re really something!” Selena was speechless as anger flashed in her eyes. Cecil quickly stepped in, ever the peacemaker. “Dad, stop this! Mr. White has it hard enough on his own. Besides, at your age, making a scene is laughable. How can Mr. White face his students at school? When I went there today, his students were looking at him funny!” I sneered, “Isn’t that because he feels guilty? If he didn’t do those things, would anyone look down on him? Cecil, stay out of your mom and my business.” She bristled at my words and growled, “Dad! All these years, Mom has been the breadwinner, dealing with workplace competition and you. With your bad temper, she shouldn’t have to cater to you anymore!” “Cater to me?” I echoed and sneered. “Is that how you see it, Selena? You and Ethan’s affairs are beyond my control. Either sign the agreement, or I’ll sue. A man who has affairs with a married woman has no place teaching!” Selena frowned, her expression one of annoyance. “What are you going on about? Ethan and I are completely innocent!” “You know the truth better than anyone. Ethan’s logs detail everything. Do you want me to show them to you, or should I take this up with your university’s leadership?” Selena, ever mindful of her image, certainly wouldn’t risk it. Seething with anger, Cecil intervened, “Dad, you’re being outrageous! Mom, divorce him. Let’s see how he enjoys his freedom without you propping him up!”

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The day I finally succeeded in proposing to my childhood sweetheart for the 99th time, news of Jason Gray’s proposal to her also went viral. On the giant screen, my fiancée Evelyn Song covered her blushing face as she shyly slipped on the ring Jason offered. Behind them, our families and friends showered them with blessings. No one knew that Evelyn had also accepted my proposal. Afterwards, she casually explained to me, “Jason has cancer. I’m just playing along to make him happy.” But as soon as she turned away, she wrapped her arms around Jason’s neck and cooed— “My wedding with your brother is in three days.” “I only said yes to you because I wanted to see you crash the wedding. Isn’t that romantic?” This time, I finally gave up and made a phone call— “The wedding’s in three days. Will you come? I need a bride.” On my wedding day, when I appeared before everyone with another woman on my arm, Evelyn suddenly went mad. “Vaughn Gray, can you stop being so unreasonable?” Evelyn snapped at me after rushing back upon receiving my call. She angrily removed her engagement ring and tossed it onto the couch. “Yes, I know you’ve suffered a lot in the past, but what does that have to do with Jason?” she continued, exasperated. “Do you really have to take out all your resentment on an innocent person?” My name is Vaughn Gray. Jason is my half-brother, and Evelyn is my longtime girlfriend and fiancée. When I was born, Jason’s mother, posing as a nanny, switched our identities. I was abandoned in the countryside, becoming a poor orphan, while Jason suddenly became the pampered heir of the Gray family. Perhaps out of guilt, my foster mother wasn’t kind to me. She would often beat me with thorny branches, leaving me covered in wounds. On freezing winter days, she’d force me to stand outside in the snow and ice, refusing to give me even a sip of hot water. During those dark days, Evelyn was my only support. She was the daughter of our neighbors – her mother was a gambling addict and her stepfather an alcoholic. When they fought, they’d take out their anger on her. I can’t count how many times I stepped in to shield her from their blows. In return, Evelyn would often sneak me half a bread roll when I was starving. Supporting each other this way, we made it through our difficult childhoods together. Even after my true identity was revealed and I returned to the Gray family, I never forgot to rescue her from that hellhole. I insisted on making her my girlfriend, supporting her life and education, elevating her from a poor girl to a pampered princess. She once tearfully cupped my face and told me I was the light of her life. If she ever left me, she would surely die. So I could never understand why she always hesitated and made excuses every time I proposed to her before. But now I finally understood— My fiancée had fallen in love with that impostor who stole my place.

Looking at Evelyn’s impatient expression, a dull ache rose in my chest. Instead of answering her question directly, I reached out to brush aside a strand of her hair that had fallen out of place in her anger. “Do you remember what you said to me when I first returned to the Gray family?” I asked softly. Even after reclaiming my true identity, I never truly fit in with the Grays. My parents preferred the son they had raised themselves, so Jason faced no punishment for his deception. They still took him to various social events and served his favorite dishes at dinner – dishes I was allergic to. Back then, Evelyn would hold my hand tenderly and say, “It’s okay. Even if the whole world doesn’t love you, I will. I’ll always be by your side.” But now even this one person had taken Jason’s side. Evelyn frowned and jerked away from my touch. She reluctantly replied, “I remember, of course I do. It’s just…” “Jason’s condition is critical now. We need to prioritize the patient’s needs.” Her tone softened as she tried to reassure me, “Don’t worry, I’ll play along with Jason and go through with this act. I just don’t want him to have any regrets. You’re still the one I’m going to marry.” But Evelyn was lying. Even though her words professed love for me, the impatience and hidden coldness in her eyes couldn’t deceive anyone. She had grown tired of me long ago and no longer loved me. Evelyn’s phone on the table buzzed. Though Jason’s photo flashed on the screen, she nervously tried to hide it from me, saying, “It’s probably my parents asking about the wedding preparations. You should go get ready…” She paused, then added meaningfully, “I’ll definitely give you a surprise on our wedding day.” With that, Evelyn hurriedly left. Frowning, I decided to follow her, still feeling uneasy. Sure enough, I saw Evelyn drive to another location. As soon as she entered the private room, I heard laughter from inside— “Evelyn, Jason, are you two really going to crash the wedding?”

Inside the room, Evelyn and Jason sat side by side. Jason playfully toyed with her fingers, raising an eyebrow. “I always keep my word. What do you think?” he smirked. Their friends burst out laughing, then continued fawning, “We just don’t understand – if you two want to be together, why did Evelyn have to accept Vaughn’s proposal? Isn’t all this back-and-forth a hassle?” Of course, I knew the reason. Because I had taken back Jason’s position as the Gray family heir. So Jason was going to extreme lengths to steal the woman I loved. He might be able to fool our parents with his innocent act and excuses, he might be able to deceive Evelyn, but he couldn’t fool me. But Jason certainly wasn’t going to reveal his true motives. He simply put on a meaningful expression and said, “Crashing a wedding – how romantic is that?” “It’ll be so much more dramatic this way, don’t you think?” The room erupted in laughter again. Someone turned to Evelyn and asked, “What about you, Evelyn? Aren’t you afraid Vaughn will be angry? Running off with Jason on your wedding day is basically cuckolding him in front of everyone. No man could accept that.” Evelyn leaned into Jason’s embrace, looking up at him coyly. “I’ll do whatever makes Jason happy,” she replied. Hearing those words, my heart sank. The laughter from inside, celebrating their public display of affection, felt like the cruelest mockery. I staggered back, my mind foggy, retreating from the scene. All I could think about was the image of Evelyn shyly accepting Jason’s ring, and their scheming plans for the wedding day. The winter wind was frigid, chilling me to the bone as it whipped around me. I closed my eyes, still hearing their final words echoing in my ears: “Mr. and Mrs. Gray know about this too.” “They agreed to it to fulfill Jason’s wishes.” “With the support of your parents, what are you afraid of?” I finally understood why my parents had been present at Jason’s proposal… It turns out, no one truly loved me. In their hearts, I was just a stepping stone for Jason to trample on his way to happiness. My parents felt this way, as did our relatives and friends. I used to think Evelyn was different. But twenty years of feelings, all my devotion and deep love for her, couldn’t compare to that simple phrase – “As long as Jason is happy.” So… why not just give them what they want? A sharp car horn jolted me out of my daze. I realized I had unknowingly wandered into the middle of the road. I sniffled, forcefully pushing down the dull ache in my chest. Finally, I made a phone call— “My wedding is in three days.” “Will you come? I need a bride.”

To satisfy Jason’s desire for a “dramatic” event, my wedding was arranged to be especially lively. My parents specially invited the media to broadcast the event from all angles. Those relatives and friends were also eagerly waiting to witness a shocking wedding crash. Everyone thought they had kept me in the dark. Evelyn arrived early in her wedding dress, sneaking off to be lovey-dovey with Jason backstage for quite a while. When I arrived, she emerged from the room with a flushed face. Seeing me, she jumped in surprise, nervously covering up: “The hotel lights were broken. I was waiting alone and got scared, so I asked Jason to come fix them.” Pretending not to know, I simply nodded. Evelyn smiled and took my arm. She pressed the ring into my palm and said, “During the ceremony, kneel down and put the ring on my finger yourself, okay?” I knew this was part of their plan. When I knelt to propose to Evelyn, Jason would suddenly appear and steal her away for maximum dramatic effect. This was the romance they were after. I nodded, but as Evelyn turned away satisfied, I pulled her back. Looking into her eyes, I asked, “You once said I was the light of your life, and that if I ever left you, you would surely die. Was that true?” Evelyn froze for a moment. After years together, our feelings had long since faded. She had probably forgotten her old vows. To placate me, she forced a smile and said, “Of course. Now hurry and get ready, the ceremony is about to start.” Watching her walk away, I gave a bitter smile. I really wanted to know if Evelyn’s past promises would prove true or false after today.

At the wedding venue, soft music began to play. Under everyone’s gaze, Evelyn walked towards me with anticipation. Unfortunately, her excitement wasn’t about becoming my bride – her eyes never left Jason. As we reached the ring exchange, the crowd held their breath. Jason stared at me intently, ready to rush up and steal the bride. Evelyn extended her hand to me. Even the background music cooperated, switching to a tense, dramatic tune. But I remained motionless. Evelyn grew impatient and urged me in a low voice, “Vaughn, what’s wrong? Hurry and put the ring on me!” I stayed silent. My parents stood up anxiously from their seats. “Vaughn, there are so many people watching!” Seeing that I still hadn’t put the ring on Evelyn, murmurs of confusion spread through the crowd. Evelyn’s face fell as she hissed at me again, “Vaughn, what are you doing? Didn’t you want to marry me? It’s our wedding day, with all our family and friends watching. You’re not going to humiliate me in public, are you?” I let out a sad laugh. So they did realize there were many people present, and that the bride and groom would lose face if anything went wrong. Then why did they plan such a scheme behind my back? After a moment of bewildered chatter from the crowd, I finally spoke: “I’m sorry, but my bride hasn’t arrived yet. Can we wait a bit longer for her?” Evelyn’s face instantly filled with disbelief. The crowd erupted in shocked whispers, unsure what was happening. Just then, the doors of the venue burst open. A familiar figure in a wedding dress rushed in— “Vaughn Gray, I’m here to marry you!”

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## I killed the classmate who tried to assault me. In the interrogation room, I covered my face and sobbed. Later, the court ruled me not guilty. As I walked out of the courthouse surrounded by officers, I made sure to keep the tears rolling down my cheeks. But the moment I reached a quiet corner, I wiped my eyes, let out a deep breath, and smiled—a smile of pure relief. “My name is Luna. I’m a senior at Westview High, in Class 6.” “And the deceased? He was your classmate?” I sat on the hospital bed, an IV tube attached to my arm, looking pale and weak. I took the water handed to me by the kind-looking officer in uniform and gave her a polite smile. The officer sitting next to me nodded reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Just take your time and try to recall every detail you can.”

If I had one skill I could count on, it’s my looks. Old men, teenage boys—it doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, they’re all visual creatures. Getting the attention of a teenage boy? Easy. A glance, a light touch, paired with a delicate, vulnerable expression—it’s all it takes to have them wrapped around your finger. For me, it’s second nature. I’ve always had a way of making people want to protect me. But I never thought this “gift” of mine would one day lead to something so dangerous. That day, I found a folded note in my desk. “Can I meet you after school by the equipment room? I have something I need to tell you.” I glanced at the signature and couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Gavin. Gavin, the perfect student. Top grades, polite to everyone, but distant—except when it came to his little sister. He had that overprotective “big brother” thing going on, which made him a bit of a mystery to the rest of us. Who would’ve thought someone like him would fall for me? But at the end of the day, even the most perfect student is still just a teenage boy. I smiled to myself, curious about what he might say. “So, he’s the one who asked you to meet him in the equipment room?” The officer paused mid-note, looking up at me. I gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Yes, officer.” “Alright, go on.”

After school, I went to the equipment room right on time. It was Friday, and by the time the final bell rang, the campus was practically deserted. The sky was already darkening as I arrived. I pushed open the creaky door. The room was empty. I wasn’t in a rush, though. I figured Gavin was probably working up the courage to show up. For a shy boy, confessing your feelings isn’t easy. As I waited, I wandered around the room, tidying up the cluttered shelves of old sports trophies and broken vases. It gave me something to do while I waited. Suddenly, the door creaked open again, followed by a loud slam. I turned around, thinking it was just the wind. I started walking toward the door to open it back up. That’s when I felt it—a pair of arms wrapping around me from behind. I froze. His hot, heavy breath brushed against my neck. He was panting, whispering my name as his hands slid under my shirt, roughly grabbing at my bra. Disgusted and furious, I struggled and cursed at him, trying to break free. But he only held me tighter, his lips pressing against my neck as he mumbled some nonsense about how much he “loved” me. My mind raced. Why had I come here? Why hadn’t I just told him no? How could I have been so stupid to believe a teenage boy could control himself? He made my skin crawl. I shouted at him to stop, to let me go, but he wouldn’t listen. To him, my protests were just flirting, and it only seemed to excite him more. I felt something hard pressing against me. He started grinding against me, and I wanted to scream. Fear and rage boiled over inside me. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I managed to twist around and shove him backward with everything I had. The shelf behind him tipped over, and one of the heavy vases on top came crashing down. It hit him square on the head. The vase shattered, and shards sliced into my shoulder, but I didn’t care. His grip on me loosened. His hands slid down from my waist as he crumpled to the ground. I stumbled toward the door, clutching my bleeding shoulder, and pulled it open. The light from the hallway flooded in. That’s when I saw him lying there, motionless. Blood pooled around his head. He was dead. “That’s everything that happened,” I said softly, brushing my hand over the bandage on my shoulder. Tears welled up in my eyes as I added, “If I’d known he was capable of something like this, I would’ve never agreed to meet him that day.” The room fell silent. The officers exchanged quiet glances, as if passing some unspoken message between them. The lead officer stood and gave me a slight bow. “Thank you for your time. We won’t keep you any longer.” I smiled faintly. “Take care, officers.” I watched them leave one by one until the room was empty again, the silence pressing in around me. My smile faded, and a shadow passed over my eyes.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, but when I woke up, a nurse was standing by my bed, changing the IV bag. “This is your last one,” she said brightly. “Once it’s done, you’re free to go home!” She smiled warmly, ruffling my messy hair. “You’re such a strong girl. Make sure to take care of yourself, okay?” I kept my gaze low, my voice soft as I blinked up at her. “Thank you. I’ll try my best.” People always want to take care of me. It doesn’t matter who they are—I’ve always known how to make them want to protect me. Sure enough, the nurse gave me a sad smile and pinched my cheek before stuffing a handful of candy into my hands. After she left, I let my composed expression melt into a grin. I’m an orphan. I’ve been on my own since the day I was born. A few years ago, I had family, but they’re gone now too. It’s just me. No one’s going to come help me with the discharge papers, and I didn’t expect them to. I followed the nurse through the process myself. Thankfully, she took care of most of the work for me. Before I left, she hugged me tightly, tears in her eyes as she whispered, “Promise me you’ll live a good life.” I put on my best performance, crying into her shoulder. But the moment I turned away, I wiped my tears and smoothed my hair. It’s all just a show, after all.

Even though the school suggested I take a couple of days off to recover, I went back the very next day. I’ve always been popular—the kind of person who seems to attract a crowd wherever I go. As soon as I stepped through the classroom door, my so-called friends surrounded me, bombarding me with questions and chatter. “Did you really kill him?” “Seriously? You actually went through with it? Damn, you’re cold.” Their words irritated me, but I kept my cool, plastering a polite smile on my face to deal with their fake concern and nosy curiosity. “Watch your mouth,” a girl standing nearby snapped at one of the boys, clearly annoyed. The boy immediately shut up, grinning sheepishly as he tried to smooth things over. “Yeah, my bad! Don’t be mad, okay, Luna?” I shook my head with a show of forced strength, my voice soft and steady. “It’s fine. I’m okay.” That was all they needed to launch into a chorus of comforting words. “That guy deserved it anyway. I never liked him. Imagine pulling that on you—what a creep…” The girl clicked her tongue again, and the boy finally stopped talking altogether. The energy around me was lively, noisy, and suffocating. But across the room, it was dead silent where Mila sat. Through the gaps in the crowd, I could see her huddled in the corner, clutching her pencil so tightly her fingers trembled. Her wide, anxious eyes flicked toward our group, only to meet mine. The moment our gazes locked, she froze. Then, as if burned, she dropped her head and frantically pretended to scribble something in her notebook. Mila. The classic loner girl. She never talked to anyone. No friends, no social life. The only person she’d ever been close to was her brother, Gavin. They did everything together—always glued to each other’s side. It was pathetic. She was pathetic. And I already knew exactly how the next chapter of her life was going to play out.

Our class had a reputation. It wasn’t just bad—it was rotten to the core. Every single person here had their own little piece of darkness, like termites gnawing away at the foundations. The corruption ran deep. In our class, the students had created their own hierarchy. There were three groups. The first group, led by Gavin before his death, was made up of the “good kids.” Straight-A students, well-behaved, the ones teachers loved. They were mostly left alone, since messing with them risked drawing the school’s attention. The second group? That was mine. The troublemakers. The ones who ruled the social scene with cliques and alliances. And the third group? They were the bottom of the barrel—the outcasts. Mediocre grades, no social skills, easy targets. They were nothing more than fodder for the rest of us. Sure enough, it didn’t take long for the hyenas to set their sights on Mila. When Gavin was alive, they’d stayed away from her out of respect for him. But now that he was gone, Mila was nothing more than a defenseless lamb surrounded by wolves. It started small. During breaks, someone would steal her chair while she was in the restroom. She’d come back, confused and embarrassed, forced to stand for the rest of class. Or they’d leave empty soda cans and crumpled tissues on her desk, treating her like a trash can. “Oh, wait—this is your seat? My bad, I thought it was the recycling bin,” one of the boys sneered, earning exaggerated laughter from the others. The teacher? She saw everything. Of course she did. Mila standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, her desk covered in garbage—it was impossible to miss. But she just glanced over, said nothing, and went back to teaching. I told you, in this class, everyone’s rotten. Not just the students. Their cruelty wasn’t just about Gavin being gone. Mila’s family situation was just as bad as mine—parents gone, only a brother left to look out for her. And now, even he was dead. With no one to protect her, the vultures circled without fear. I rested my chin on my hand, watching Mila squirm under the spotlight of the class’s mockery. What a shame. She wasn’t like me. She didn’t know how to hide.

I’ve always had a talent for making people care about me. Love me, even. Any kind of person. I know how to look helpless, how to tug at people’s heartstrings, how to make them want to protect me. At the same time, I know how to project strength—designer clothes, a polished image, the appearance of someone from a wealthy and untouchable family. A naive rich girl with a heart of gold. Who would dare mess with someone like that? But Mila didn’t have that ability. Her fear, her hatred, her vulnerability—it was all written all over her face. Every flinch, every tremble just made her tormentors more excited, like sharks smelling blood in the water. Just like now. A wad of paper hit Mila square on the head and bounced to the floor. Laughter rippled through the room as Mila sat there, her head bowed, her ears burning red. Another paper ball. Then another. It wasn’t until the teacher finally snapped and yelled at the class to stop that the bombardment ended—not because of Mila, but because it was disrupting the lesson. Mila’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears, her lips trembling. Pathetic. After school, my usual entourage swarmed around me, loudly declaring how they’d protect me while peppering me with questions. Their chatter annoyed me, but I just smiled and let it wash over me. As soon as I stepped out of the school gates, though, a man blocked my path. I looked up, immediately recognizing the face. “Hello, officer,” I said calmly. He blinked, clearly surprised by my composure, before nodding slightly. “We have a few more questions for you. Would you be able to come with us?” I glanced at the group of friends behind me. The same people who’d been shouting about “protecting” me just moments ago were now shrinking back, avoiding my gaze. Typical. I turned back to the officer and nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.” At the station, they sat me down in a chair. One of the officers handed me a bottle of water. I held it for a moment, feeling the coolness through the plastic, before handing it back. “Could I get one that’s warmed up, please? Thank you.”

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After my son went off to college, I gave him $2,000 a month for living expenses. Once he started dating, he’d always come to me, complaining, “Mom, how can I date with so little money? If you want a grandson, you better send me another $2,000!” To support his extravagant university lifestyle, I downloaded every loan app available and took out loans in his name. I did all this because I had sacrificed so much for him in the past. After graduating, he refused to get a job, insisting he needed to tackle life’s big milestones, like marriage and having kids. My husband and I reluctantly made the down payment when housing prices were at their highest. But when he couldn’t keep up with the mortgage payments, he turned violent towards me and his father, accusing us, “If you hadn’t bought me such an expensive house, would I be feeling this much pressure?” “I can’t repay it. You go earn money to pay it back for me, or I’ll hand this house back to you!” I was forced to work three jobs daily and eventually collapsed from exhaustion at work. This time, I made sure to damage his credit report first. Let’s see how he plans to secure a loan for another house now.

“Mom, I’m out of money this month. Could you send some more?” “Send a thousand, no, make it two thousand. The cafeteria food is awful and has given me diarrhea for three days. Eating out is expensive, but at least it doesn’t make me sick.” It’s only the 10th, and my son is already calling again. He’s a sophomore this year. Initially, his living expenses were $2,000, but in less than a year, he complained it wasn’t enough. It went up to $3,000, and even that barely lasts ten days now. In the past, I would have lectured him for ten minutes about saving money, reminding him how hard we work to earn it. But this time, I didn’t say anything. I calmly replied, “Okay, hold on. I’ll go get some cash for you.” I went to the app store, downloaded over ten loan apps, entered his ID, and borrowed $5,000. I sent him $2,000. He didn’t say a word, just a cold transaction on the screen. I took out a journal and noted the first loan for today. All of this because, in a previous life, I worked hard to put him through university. He insisted on getting married and brought home a pregnant Emily. The first thing he said was, “We need $30,000 for the bride price and a $200,000 house.” We didn’t have that kind of money, but seeing the young girl’s tearful face and my son’s pleading, I softened. We borrowed from every relative, scraping together $120,000—$30,000 for the bride price, the rest for the house’s down payment. My son was deeply moved. “Thank you, Mom and Dad. I’ll be a good son to you for life. You can relax at home and enjoy your grandchildren.” We couldn’t relax. We hustled to repay the relatives. Just as we thought we could catch a breath, my son came crying again. “Mom, help me. The mortgage is too much. I have a family to support. I just can’t keep up.” “Would you really let your son, grandson, and daughter-in-law be homeless?” “You and Dad work hard for a few more years, and once prices go up and salaries increase, the pressure will ease.” So, my husband and I went out again, financially supporting their little family. But after two years, not only did his salary not increase, but housing prices dropped, and the job market tightened. Someone in his neighborhood sold a similar house for $80,000. Worried about their pressure, I suggested selling our big house and moving to a smaller one. The difference could help pay his mortgage. But that led to him lashing out at us. “If you hadn’t bought such an expensive house for me, I wouldn’t be under this much pressure!” “I can’t pay it back. You go earn the money to pay it off, or I’ll just give the house back to you!” I took on another job. While washing dishes, I blacked out and collapsed.

As I watched my body fall, a colleague found me, and the boss immediately called an ambulance. But I knew I was dead. I saw my husband’s hair turn completely white overnight. He held my photo every day, not cooking or going to work, no matter how much our son berated him, he wouldn’t leave the house. Our son was busy. He dragged my body to the boss’s shop and left it there for two days. When the boss didn’t give in, he put up banners and made a ruckus every day. I watched as my son took the $50,000 the boss scraped together and left happily. He used it to eat and drink with his wife and son. No one cared that my body was still on the street. A young man finally informed my husband to retrieve me. After cremating and laying me to rest, my husband bashed his head against my tombstone and died. I woke up again, back to my son’s sophomore year. He had just secretly started dating a girl, doubling his living expenses. But at this point, our family still had some savings, and my husband and I hadn’t retired. We lived frugally, and things were manageable. I wasn’t that cruel. I just wanted to ruin his credit score so he couldn’t take out loans for a house. After he graduates, I won’t care about his life or death. After my son graduated, I put the house up for sale online. But three months before graduation, he brought Emily home. Emily, with a slightly bulging belly, timidly looked at me. “Hello, Auntie~” My son entered with a large bag of baby supplies. “Mom, Dad, this is Emily, your daughter-in-law.” “Hurry, call her Mom. This is your Dad. Don’t worry, my parents are really nice people.” Just as she was about to speak, I stopped her. “No, you haven’t even married yet. If word gets out, people will say we don’t have manners and bully young girls.” “Girl, sit down. I’ll get you some fruit.” At the dining table, I saw Emily repeatedly giving my son glances and occasionally making retching noises. I pretended not to notice, but eventually, my son couldn’t hold back. “Mom, I came back this time to get married. Emily is already carrying your grandson.” I rolled my eyes. In my past life, that grandson never called me Grandma. Whenever he saw me, it was like seeing trash—not a kick or spit. I thought he was just a kid, and I was too busy earning money to take him out to play like other grandmas, so I didn’t mind. Now that I think about it, this Emily, who gave such a great first impression, might not be as simple as I thought. “You’ve always taught me to be responsible as a man. You see if you can quickly contact Emily’s parents and set a date.” Yes, I taught him to be good to his wife and kids, and he did that. But I also taught him to be filial, yet he wouldn’t even take care of my corpse. “When are you and Dad available? I’ll talk to Emily’s parents.” “I’m free anytime. You decide and let us know.”

Emily got anxious but was too embarrassed to speak up, tugging at Michael Green’s sleeve. Michael Green looked at me, and I sipped my tea. “Mom, about the bride price, Emily said it’s quite high where she’s from.” I said, “Oh~” “If it weren’t for Emily being pregnant, I wouldn’t rely on you for everything.” “Don’t worry. Consider it a loan from you. I’ll repay it once I start working and earning.” I sighed. “Oh, Michael, let me be honest. Your university expenses were high these years, and we have no savings left.” He immediately changed his expression. “How much could I possibly spend each month? Are you just making excuses not to give?” “What kind of parents don’t prepare a house and car for their son, only caring about themselves?” “If I can’t marry, don’t expect me to support you in retirement.” “Go live in a dump!” I chuckled inside. This is my good son. If his parents don’t serve him as slaves, he shows his true colors. My husband couldn’t stand it and was about to speak, but I held his hand. “Son, it’s not that we’re not helping. We originally saved $50,000 for you.” “But look at how much you’ve spent over these years in university. Your monthly expenses are around $20,000. From sophomore year, for three years straight.” “And once, you said you broke your leg and needed surgery, so I transferred $5,000 to you. In total, it’s $52,000.” “Your marriage fund was spent by you. Where can we find money for the bride price now?” He was speechless, his face red. “If you don’t want to give, don’t. Why make so many excuses? How could I possibly spend over $50,000 in college?” “I’ve never seen parents like you. Since you don’t care, my son won’t acknowledge you. My son doesn’t have stingy grandparents. You don’t deserve it!” “Emily, let’s go! I can support you on my own!” “You both can keep your measly money to yourselves!” He slammed the door and left. Only Emily, looking pitiful, glanced back at me every few steps. After my son left, my husband was a bit upset with me. “Honey, don’t we still have savings? Why are you doing this to our son?” “Besides, nowadays, having a son means preparing a house and bride price for him.” “I’ve never met parents like you. Since you don’t care, my son won’t recognize you anymore. He won’t have stingy grandparents like you! You don’t deserve it!” “Lila, let’s go! I can take care of you myself!” “You two just hold onto your money and live your own lives!” With that, I slammed the door and left. Lila kept turning back to look at me, looking pitiful with every step she took. After our son left, my husband expressed his frustration. “Dear, we still have savings. Why are you making things hard for our son?” “Besides, it’s normal now for parents to prepare a house and wedding money for their sons.” “Look at what’s happened. He doesn’t want anything to do with us, and we won’t get to see our grandchild. When we’re old and sick, who will look after us?” I looked at my soft-hearted husband and asked, “Do you really think we can rely on a son like this for our care?” He didn’t have a reply, and after a while, he sighed. “Forget it. It’s fine with just the two of us. At least we won’t have so many worries.” 0

Isn’t it just a mess? In my previous life, he didn’t even claim my body, treating me only as a tool to extort money. We raised him for over twenty years, and he was less helpful than a dog. Just to be safe, I transferred most of the money to a card that neither my son nor my husband knew about. On the street, I saw a young man selling balloons in the cold wind. I was taken aback. It was the same young man from my past life who took care of my body after I died. Spring had just started, but it was still cold. He was wearing a thin black jacket. His face and nose were red from the cold. Since I wandered for a long time after my death in the last life, I know he has no parents. He only has an elderly grandmother at home, who is often sick and frail. So, he has to use all his time working. I took some free time, found his school, contacted his tutor, and quietly supported him. His name is Ethan, and he is currently a sophomore. He excels in his studies, receives a scholarship every year, and his tuition is waived. But because of his grandmother’s health, life is still challenging. I knew James wouldn’t let this go. After all, he hasn’t even graduated yet, so how could he support a wife and child? But I didn’t expect him to change so quickly. Within a week, he invited us to dinner at a hotel on Sunday night. I refused, but my husband is soft-hearted since we raised him ourselves. Parents can’t ignore their children’s major life events. I couldn’t convince him otherwise, so I had to go and let him see our son’s true nature. As soon as we entered, there was a strong smell of cigarette smoke. A young man, about twenty years old, with slicked-back hair. His feet were on the table, holding a cigarette. A heavily made-up middle-aged woman saw me but said nothing to me. Instead, she spoke to the boy. “Sit up; someone’s here.” After a while, our son came in. A woman’s voice rang out. “Let’s be clear, our family wants a $30,000 bride price, not a penny less.” “After all, we didn’t raise our daughter for free. Thirty thousand is not much.” “She’s carrying your family’s grandson now.” “And you can’t skimp on a house. My daughter won’t live with her in-laws! You need to prepare a big house, at least a hundred square meters.” “Otherwise, we won’t be able to stay when we visit her.” “Just write their names on it. If you agree, pay the bride price first, then we can discuss the wedding date.”

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### A security guard in our apartment complex was killed by a falling object. No one admitted to it, and there were no security cameras to catch what happened. No one had an alibi. Then, the guard’s son, holding an axe, stormed into the building. “Tell me,” he demanded, “who do you think the murderer is?” The finger-pointing began. And with it, the nightmare. It was Sunday, and I didn’t wake up until 2 p.m. That’s the life of someone caught in the grind of a relentless job—working 9 to 9, six days a week. Your only day off is mostly spent catching up on sleep, and even then, you never feel rested. Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled to the door in my slippers to grab the packages I’d been meaning to bring inside. Halfway through sorting the boxes, a deafening thud echoed through the building. Then came the screams. I froze in place, a terrible feeling settling in my chest. Something must’ve happened… something bad. Whatever drowsiness I had left was gone in an instant. I ran to the balcony and looked down. The security guard, Mr. Miller, lay motionless on the ground, his head bloody. Beside him was a shattered flowerpot. A crowd had gathered around his body, pointing and shouting, many glancing nervously upward.

Mr. Miller was dead—killed instantly by the falling flowerpot. When the paramedics arrived, they took one look at him, covered his body with a sheet, and left. The police sealed off the area. Someone in the apartment’s group chat shared a video. I clicked on it. In the video, Mr. Miller’s lifeless eyes stared blankly into the camera. The person filming sighed heavily. “It’s such a tragedy. Just like that, he’s gone. I was just talking to him earlier, you know?” “And that flowerpot… God, imagine if it had hit a kid instead.” The video was unsettling, and it didn’t take long for the building manager to delete it. But not before the accusations started flying. Someone in the group chat claimed the flowerpot had fallen from Building D, calling out its residents as potential murderers: “I suggest the guilty party turn themselves in. Otherwise, everyone in Building D is a suspect—and a murderer.” The comment lit a fire in the group chat. D602 | Clara Jones: “Find the person who did it! Don’t lump us all together—I’ve done nothing wrong and have nothing to hide.” D701 | Eric Howard: “I just bought this place, and now someone’s dead outside my building? I should be the one complaining about bad luck!” D502 | Mark Stone: “Relax. With all the cameras around, they’ll figure out who did it soon enough.” The chat devolved into chaos. I turned off my phone and looked at the officer standing outside my door. “Officer, have you caught the person responsible yet?” I asked nervously. He gave me a hard look. “As long as everyone cooperates, we’ll find the killer.” I nodded, still shaken. “I’m scared to even step outside. What if something falls on my head next?” The officer jotted something down in his notebook, then asked, “Miss Carter, can you tell me where you were between 2:00 and 2:30 p.m. today?” That was when Mr. Miller had been killed. It wasn’t hard to recall. “I woke up around 2:00, had some water, and started unpacking the packages by my door. I was still in the middle of it when I heard the noise around 2:30.” “What kind of packages?” I gestured to the corner of my room, where a mountain of boxes sat. “I’m a beauty blogger. Most of these are PR packages from brands, plus some things I ordered for myself.” The officer glanced at the pile, clearly surprised, and scribbled something down. “Did you hear anything unusual during that time?” he asked. I thought for a moment. “Actually… I think I heard the couple on the seventh floor arguing.”

After the officer left, the couple from the seventh floor exploded in the group chat. D701 | Eric Howard: “Who the hell has such a big mouth?” D701 | Jessica Howard: “My husband and I are perfectly happy together. Whoever’s spreading rumors should stop before I sue for defamation!” D701 | Eric Howard: “If I find out who’s been running their mouth, you’re dead meat!” The chat went silent. No one dared to respond. I ignored the drama and went back to unpacking the rest of my packages. By the time I was done, it was already dark. I stuffed some of the empty boxes into a large trash bag and decided to take them downstairs to the recycling bins. At the door, I bent down to put on my shoes. Out of habit, I glanced through the peephole. My heart stopped. Someone was standing on the other side of the door, staring directly into the peephole.

Who was it? Who was outside my door? I froze, my body rigid with fear. Thank God peepholes only work one way. As long as I didn’t make a sound, whoever it was wouldn’t know I was inside. I don’t know how long I stood there, holding my breath. Finally, the person moved. The sound of faint footsteps faded as they walked away. I collapsed against the wall, my legs weak. My back was soaked with sweat. I didn’t dare leave my apartment to take out the trash. Instead, I bolted into my bedroom and locked the door behind me. If I hadn’t checked the peephole, if I had just opened the door without thinking… I didn’t want to imagine what might’ve happened. The terror of that moment stayed with me, haunting me far more than Mr. Miller’s death had. That night, I dreamed of nothing but the eye staring back at me through the peephole. The next morning, after making sure no one was outside, I left the apartment complex and bought a discreet security camera. By the end of the day, I had it installed near my door, hidden from plain sight. If that person ever came back, I would catch them. And this time, they would pay.

Almost a week had passed, and the figure outside my peephole hadn’t appeared again. Today was Saturday, the last day of my soul-crushing 9-to-9 work week. Life seemed to have returned to normal—for the most part. The only noticeable change was the replacement of the security guard. Other than that, everything felt the same. After finishing my work, I went home, took a long, relaxing shower, and settled into my couch with a face mask while binge-watching a series. That’s when the sound of a power drill suddenly echoed from downstairs. It was loud, jarring, and completely out of place in the otherwise quiet night. I glanced at the clock. It was already 10 p.m. What the hell? Who starts drilling this late at night? I checked the apartment group chat. Sure enough, everyone in Building D was losing it. D502 | Mark Stone: “Who the hell is remodeling this late on a weekend?!” D602 | Clara Jones: “Drilling at this hour? Are you kidding me? Some of us are trying to sleep!” D701 | Eric Howard: “Whoever’s doing this, I swear I’ll kill you!” D502 | Mark Stone: @D701 Eric Howard “You go ahead, Eric. You’ve got my full support.” Eric didn’t reply after that. Our building was part of a high-end complex, with only two apartments per floor and plenty of space between each building. The noise was clearly coming from our building—only we could hear it. Meanwhile, the other buildings in the group chat were having a great time mocking our misery. Eventually, a girl from the fourth floor spoke up. She volunteered to find out who was doing the drilling, saying we wouldn’t get any peace unless someone stepped in. Everyone agreed, relieved they didn’t have to deal with it themselves. Ten minutes later, the drilling finally stopped. D502 | Mark Stone: @FourthFloorGirl “Thanks for handling that!” But she didn’t respond. I hesitated for a moment before typing a quick “thank you” message myself. It didn’t go through. I checked my phone and realized there was no signal. “No service?” I muttered. Weird. I tried switching to Wi-Fi. As soon as it connected, the lights in my apartment went out. Everything went pitch black.

No signal. No lights. The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence. A wave of unease washed over me. I walked to the window and peeked outside. The other buildings in the complex were all still lit up. Only Building D was shrouded in complete darkness. Something wasn’t right. I turned on my phone’s flashlight and lit a candle for extra light. It’s nothing. I told myself. Probably just a tripped circuit. The new security guard will notice and fix it soon. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. To distract myself, I opened my laptop. There was still enough battery left, so I decided to edit a video I’d filmed earlier this week. Making beauty content was just a side gig for me—something I did for fun on my days off. Somehow, I’d managed to grow a decent following of a few tens of thousands of followers. Brands had even started sending me products to review. I clicked on the file to start editing when a sharp, muffled scream cut through the silence. It was short—almost too short—but it sent chills down my spine. I froze, straining my ears to listen. Silence. An eerie, suffocating silence. Even the usual chirping of birds outside had disappeared. My hands started to tremble as my mind raced. I thought of Mr. Miller, the security guard who’d been killed the previous Sunday. Today was Saturday. At midnight, it would be the seventh night—the Seventh Night, the night when spirits were said to return.

It was 10:22 p.m. Not quite midnight yet. I couldn’t stay here any longer. I decided to pack a bag and leave for a hotel. Anywhere would be better than staying in this cursed building tonight. I quickly changed my clothes, grabbed my phone and laptop, and headed for the door. But just as I stepped out of my bedroom, I heard a faint rustling sound coming from the front door. Someone was outside. My mind immediately flashed to the figure I’d seen through the peephole last week. Thankfully, I’d installed a security camera after that incident. It was battery-powered, so it still worked even without electricity. The camera had night vision, too, so I could see exactly who was outside. I crept quietly to the monitor and glanced at the feed. It was my neighbor—David from the apartment across the hall. He was standing at my door, nervously glancing around. “David, what are you doing outside my apartment?” I called out. He jumped, startled, then leaned closer to the door and whispered, “Keep your voice down, Rachel… I’ve got a bad feeling about tonight. Something’s going to happen in this building.” “What do you mean?” He swallowed hard, his face pale. “Do you remember Mr. Miller? The security guard who died last week? I think… I think he’s come back for revenge.” A chill ran down my spine. Was he seriously saying this? If it had just been my imagination, I could’ve dismissed it. But hearing David voice the same fear… I tightened my grip on my phone, unsure of what to say. David continued, his voice trembling. “The whole building’s too quiet. I didn’t want to go to other floors—I was too scared. I thought maybe… maybe we could stick together.” He paused, then added hesitantly, “I brought these… do you want one?” He held up two small paper talismans, his hands shaking. Looking at his trembling legs and pale face, I felt an odd sense of calm wash over me. “How generous of you,” I said dryly. “What made you decide to share one with me?” David hesitated, then muttered, “Well… I’ve been following you for a while. I’m… a fan of your content.” A fan? Of me? I’m a beauty blogger. Why the hell would I have a male fan?

I never had much interaction with David before. At most, we’d exchange awkward nods in the elevator. Back then, he was just like he is now—timid, shrinking into himself like a mushroom that thrives in the shadows. I used to think he was pathetic, someone unworthy of a second thought. But tonight, as strange as it sounds, he didn’t seem so bad. “Rachel, I’ll leave the talisman outside your door. Don’t forget to grab it…” On the security monitor, I watched as David carefully placed the paper on the ground, glancing around nervously before retreating. I didn’t tell him I was about to leave the building entirely. “Thanks, David. You should go back inside now.” He muttered a small “okay” before shuffling off, his head ducked low. His footsteps grew fainter until I heard the sound of his door creaking open and slamming shut. I waited a few more minutes, just to be sure, before cautiously opening my door and picking up the talisman. If Mr. Miller had come back… maybe this flimsy piece of paper would actually help. I turned back toward my apartment, my mind racing. My laptop was still in the living room. If I could just grab it and shove it into my bag, I’d be out of here in no time. I pulled the door shut behind me. But just before it could fully close, something suddenly jammed it open. Thud. The sound made my blood run cold. I turned, heart pounding, and saw it: a man’s hand wedged in the doorframe. Was it… was it Mr. Miller? Panic surged through me. I threw my weight against the door, desperate to shut it, but the hand was too strong. No matter how hard I pushed, I couldn’t get the door to close. Then I remembered the talisman. Clutching it tightly, I raised it like a weapon. The door swung open, and in the dim flicker of my candlelight, I saw… David.

elief flooded through me. It wasn’t a ghost—it was just David. But something still wasn’t right. He stood in the doorway, perfectly still, his figure shrouded in shadows. He looked the same as always, yet there was something deeply unsettling about him now. My chest tightened as my heartbeat roared in my ears. Forcing a shaky smile, I tried to play it cool. “David, what are you doing? You scared me half to death. Seriously, jokes like this aren’t funny.” He smiled too. A slow, eerie smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m really sorry, Rachel.” “But I just can’t help myself anymore. Rachel, I’m so sorry… I like you too much.” As he spoke, he stepped inside, moving closer to me. “Don’t come any closer!” I shouted, stumbling backward. But he didn’t stop. In fact, he quickened his pace, grabbing me effortlessly before I could run. I screamed, but it made no difference. He pulled out a rope and tied me to a chair, his movements quick and practiced. “What do you want?!” I cried, my voice trembling. “Is it money? Tell me how much you want—just don’t hurt me!” David shook his head, his expression strangely calm. Even… gentle. “Money? No, Rachel. I don’t want your money.” His voice was soft, almost tender, which only made it more terrifying. “I told you—I’m your fan. How could you think I’d hurt you? I only want to be close to you. That’s all.” My skin crawled. “This is how you show you like me?!” I spat, struggling against the ropes. David tilted his head, his smile faltering. “I know you don’t like me. I know you think I’m pathetic. That’s why I never said anything before. I was happy just watching you from afar. Just seeing you was enough for me… but…” His voice cracked as he knelt in front of me, his face twisted with a strange mix of sadness and frustration. “But then you saw me, didn’t you? I couldn’t stop myself from watching you. And when you installed that camera by your door… I knew you’d caught me. I couldn’t come back after that. I tried to hold back, Rachel, I really did. But I just couldn’t anymore.” My breath hitched. The eye. The one I’d seen through the peephole. “It was you,” I whispered, horrified. David nodded, his smile returning. “Yes, it was me.” My stomach churned with nausea. He grinned wider, his face alight with an unsettling joy. “But it’s okay now. You’re mine, Rachel. Finally, you’re mine.” I’d rather die than let this creep keep me tied up like some kind of sick trophy. As he leaned closer, I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for whatever horror was coming. Then, suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed from outside the door. Thump. Thump. One step light, the other dragging, like someone with a limp. The sound didn’t stop at my door. Instead, it continued down the hall—toward David’s apartment. A loud knock shattered the silence. Bang. Bang. Bang. A low, raspy voice followed. “Room 802. David, are you home?”

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I confirmed Lucas’s betrayal on Christmas Eve. 28-year-old Lucas was dressed as Santa Claus, entertaining a young woman. I returned home in a daze and sat numbly in the living room for hours. When Lucas finally came home, I asked him, “When are we getting married?” He frowned and replied without hesitation, “Didn’t we agree to discuss this after the company is more stable?” I nodded and went to bed. The next morning, I woke up early and packed my things, ready to leave. Later, I sold my company shares to Lucas’s competitor. When I discovered that Santa was actually Lucas, I wasn’t even angry. Even though he had just flirted with a young woman right under my nose and then kissed her. I simply calmly confirmed the fact of his betrayal. Light snow was still falling from the sky, and a thick layer had already accumulated on the ground. In this weather, staying in a warm room with the heater on would have been so comfortable. Unfortunately, I was out running errands for the company. I had just received a message that my business partner couldn’t make it. Which meant that after waiting for three hours, I had been stood up. Perhaps the cold had numbed me, to the point where even seeing Lucas’s betrayal didn’t stir much emotion in me. I moved my nearly numb legs and decided to take a cab home. When I returned to the home Lucas and I shared, the living room was pitch black. I turned on the lights, and it finally brightened up. On the dining table was the loving breakfast I had made for Lucas before leaving this morning, untouched. Next to it was a sticky note with hearts and smiley faces drawn on it. I froze for a moment, unconsciously picking up the note. Lucas had taught me how to draw these simple doodles back when we were still in the honeymoon phase. He had held my hand and shown me how to draw them. It was just a simple sketch, but he had insisted on being close to me while teaching it. Now, it had been five years already. I suddenly realized Lucas and I had been together for five years. It had been such a long time, no wonder he had fallen for someone else. After a moment of silence, I tore up the note in my hand and threw it in the trash along with the untouched breakfast. It had gone cold anyway, no point in keeping it. Might as well throw it out. Sitting on the couch, I didn’t know what to do for a moment. I was tired today and didn’t want to go to the office. In the past, I would have been excitedly making travel plans at a time like this. So that Lucas and I could go on a trip together when he had time. I loved traveling, but Lucas didn’t enjoy it as much. As a result, out of ten times, Lucas was only willing to accompany me once or twice. And even on those occasions, it was mostly because I had landed a big deal for the company. Thinking of this, I gave a self-deprecating smile. I didn’t know when I had become one of those people I used to look down on. Before getting together with Lucas, I would encounter women who mistreated themselves for love. I always found it incomprehensible. Now that I was in the same situation, I could understand a little. It was just craving some warmth after all. Who doesn’t have some unforgettable memories when they’re in love? I don’t know how much time passed before Lucas came home.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?” Lucas frowned as soon as he saw me. I couldn’t tell if his words were out of concern or accusation. He used to say this in the past too. Back then, he would follow up with another question. “Is something bothering you?” But now, I waited and waited. And never heard those words. Of course, I had just witnessed his betrayal with my own eyes. Why was I still clinging to these things? I didn’t answer him, just looked up and stared at him intently. “Lucas, when are we getting married?” This was the first time I had asked this question directly. But I had said similar things countless times before. Back then, I would ask: “Lucas, when are you going to marry me?” But the result was always a polite refusal. This time was no exception. “Why are you asking about this again?” “Didn’t I tell you before? We’ll talk about these things after the company is more stable.” I wanted to argue – what exactly counted as stable? The company had already gone public, wasn’t that enough? But I didn’t ask. I just nodded and went to bed. I hadn’t really expected him to agree anyway. I was just asking one last time, for the sake of these five years. The bedroom was very cozy, with warm color tones. It allowed my mind to relax a little whenever I was exhausted from work. Lucas and I had chosen it together. There were still many stuffed animals on the bed, remnants of our honeymoon phase. Back then, he would say: “What guy plays with these things?” While shouting loudly to me: “Baby, come quick, this stuffed animal is so cute!” Those sweet memories flashed through my mind, but ultimately froze on the image of Lucas embracing and kissing that young woman today. I paused, then packed up my things and went to the guest room. As expected, Lucas didn’t ask me a single question. I slept until dawn. When I woke up, there was probably still a smile on my face. Because in my dream, I had seen those beautiful memories from the past. In the dream, 23-year-old Lucas was still holding my hand, loudly promising: “We’ll be together forever!” But when I woke up, I had to face the reality of 28-year-old Lucas’s betrayal. The huge gap left me feeling disoriented.

I decided to move out. When I made this decision, I felt a bit sad. Not for any other reason. But because the house was under Lucas’s name. If it had been under my name, I could have asked Lucas to move out now. Instead of having to leave myself. I realized again that Lucas probably stopped loving me long ago. If it was the Lucas from before, he should have put the house under my name when we bought it last year. For men, where the money goes is where the love goes. No exceptions. As I was packing, I ran into a problem. In the short year since moving in, I had already accumulated many items. Things that seemed insignificant in daily life all needed to be taken when moving. I was packing frantically, not even noticing when Lucas woke up. “What are you doing?” Maybe the dream from this morning still had too much of an effect, because hearing his voice made me feel a bit nauseous. I held my chest, patting it lightly. Before I could speak, he spoke first. “You’re not pregnant, are you?” Pregnant? Realizing my period was late this month, my face instantly turned pale. Although Lucas and I always used protection, what if…? Lucas must have noticed something was off, because he immediately took me to the hospital. The whole way there, Lucas seemed to have returned to how he was before. Asking if I was feeling alright, constantly checking if I was uncomfortable. If I didn’t know about his betrayal, I might have been fooled by this facade. This all lasted until we ran into that young woman at the hospital. “Jasmine, why are you here?” Lucas immediately let go of my arm when he saw her. The worried look on his face was something I hadn’t seen in a long time. I looked at the young woman. Before this, I hadn’t planned on confronting her. Because I had thought that maybe she was tricked by Lucas. That she didn’t know Lucas already had a girlfriend. But it wasn’t until I clearly saw her face that I realized. She and I were actually old acquaintances. Jasmine. Jasmine Lin. The junior I had personally mentored. I stood there, watching them fuss over each other in front of me. After a while, Lucas finally brought Jasmine over. “Senior.” Jasmine greeted me sweetly, not showing any sign of guilt. “Jasmine wasn’t feeling well, and she’s never been to a hospital before, so she’s not familiar with the procedures. I’m going to help her out.” “You’re more familiar with hospitals, and it’s probably nothing serious anyway, so why don’t you go first? I’ll come pick you up when I’m done.” Lucas had some nerve, accompanying an employee to see the doctor while leaving his official girlfriend behind. It was truly laughable. But right now I was anxious to confirm whether I was pregnant or not, so I didn’t have the energy to deal with them. If I wasn’t pregnant, that would be fine. But if I really was pregnant, I’d have to suffer through it. Fortunately, my streak of bad luck didn’t continue. It was just an irregular period. I left the hospital, planning to take a cab home by myself. But then I heard Jasmine’s voice.

Jasmine was sitting in Lucas’s passenger seat, waving at me. Her face was radiant with joy, making her look bright and lively. “Senior, come on!” This made it impossible for me to pretend I hadn’t heard. Might as well take the ride. The whole way, Lucas and Jasmine were chatting and laughing. Making me feel like an outsider. I kept quiet, not intending to interrupt their little world. But Jasmine kept trying to provoke me. “Senior, Lucas is so thoughtful and caring, you must be very happy!” “Senior, you have to treat Lucas well, I’m so envious of you!” “Senior…” “That’s enough, be quiet!” I finally couldn’t stand her constant chatter. I just wanted to get home in peace, was that so hard? “Why are you yelling? Jasmine was just saying a few words.” “When did your temper get so bad? Jasmine is still your junior.” I had only raised my voice a little, but Lucas was already defending her. “She’s my junior, why are you speaking for her?” I couldn’t help but snap back at him. “Jasmine is my employee too, what’s wrong with me saying a few words for her?” “Employee?” I found it laughable. “More like your little mistress, right?” As soon as I said that, the car fell silent. After a while, Lucas coughed awkwardly. “What nonsense are you talking about? Jasmine and I are completely innocent.” Seeing his reaction, I turned to Jasmine. “What, you’re with him but he won’t even give you a proper title?” Jasmine stammered, unable to reply. I gave a cold laugh, not saying anything more. Jasmine got out of the car first. On the way back home, Lucas and I didn’t speak. When we got home, I ignored Lucas behind me. I went straight to finish packing the luggage I hadn’t finished this morning. These were gifts Lucas had given me, I didn’t want them anymore. These were things Lucas and I had bought together while shopping, I didn’t want those either. After clearing things out for a long time, I finally realized that most of the items were related to Lucas in some way. I didn’t want any of it. It’s not like I was short on money anyway. I could just buy new things later. I sorted out some things I particularly liked and some essentials I had to take. As I was about to leave, Lucas finally spoke up. Before that, Lucas had just been quietly watching me. He seemed convinced that I was just putting on an act. “Olivia, are you really leaving?” “There’s nothing going on between Jasmine and me, can you stop being so petty?” “I didn’t say anything when you were out drinking with those businessmen all night for work, I just accompanied her to the hospital once.” “Slap!” Lucas’s words made me tremble with anger. I turned around and slapped him. “Nothing going on between you and Jasmine? You’re still trying to fool me, I saw everything yesterday!” After saying that, I took a deep breath. “Forget about your betrayal, what did you mean by what you just said?” “What do you mean I was out drinking with those men until late?” “If I hadn’t worked so hard to land those big deals, would the company be this successful?” “Now that the company has gone public, you’re using this against me? Where were you when I was drinking until I vomited blood?” I couldn’t believe that the person speaking to me so harshly now was the boyfriend I had loved for five years. The person who used to care for me so tenderly. My throat hurt from yelling earlier. “Lucas.” I couldn’t help it, my voice cracked a little. He was the only person I had ever truly loved. “Let’s end this here.” I left without looking back. Two months ago, I had bought myself a house. Without telling anyone.

Maybe I had already sensed something was wrong back then. It’s too easy for a woman to notice when something’s off with her partner. Not coming home at night, unexplained overtime. Suddenly finding cute little decorations at home that weren’t there before. All these little things, I had long suspected something was wrong. But Lucas had hidden it so well, I just couldn’t find any evidence. Wiping away my tears, I moved my things from the car into my new home. I didn’t have the energy to properly unpack everything, so I just rested for now. Things had gotten to this point with Lucas, and I wasn’t short on money anyway. I still had to go to the company tomorrow. Lucas owned 30% of the company shares, while I owned 21%. There was no reason for him to sit in the office every day while I had to run around for business, putting on fake smiles and drinking until I threw up. The next day when I arrived at the company, I noticed everyone looking at me strangely. Before I could ask, my former assistant quietly told me. Lucas had promoted Jasmine to be his personal secretary. The two of them were openly affectionate at the office, no longer caring about others’ opinions. “Olivia… this…” My assistant felt indignant on my behalf, but I shook my head. “Lucas and I have broken up, his business is none of my concern.” I actually have a very gentle personality. In the past, my friends would call me a pushover. Because I seemed to never get angry, not even knowing how to fight back when bullied. After getting together with Lucas, he would always stand up for me when I was wronged. But now, Lucas was the one bullying me. I didn’t know what to do. I decided to resign. There was no point in staying at this company anymore. I arranged all my work and gave instructions. I had shares in the company, so I didn’t need to worry about money. Now I wanted to travel and relax, not be a workhorse anymore. “Senior, what’s wrong?” I heard Jasmine’s voice as I was giving instructions. The smugness in her tone was about to overflow. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with her and continued delegating tasks. “Senior is resigning? Why not stay on? Even though you broke up with Lucas, if I put in a good word, you could still keep working here.” “After all, our company’s benefits are quite good. Most people wouldn’t want to leave. Don’t you agree, senior?” Jasmine sat down at my desk, crossing her legs and playing with her nails. Seeing her arrogant attitude, I couldn’t imagine how this Jasmine was the same person who had begged me for help before. Back then, she had clung to me, constantly calling me “senior”. Later she said she couldn’t find a job. I pulled some strings to get her into the company, and personally mentored her on how to negotiate deals. But Jasmine couldn’t adapt to running around for business. So I arranged a cushy job for her instead. But now that she had hooked up with Lucas, she came to flaunt her power in front of me. I looked down at her and smiled. “You should stop calling me senior. I don’t have any juniors who are homewreckers.”

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## I had worked so hard to climb that mountain and get a protection charm from the temple—only for Anthony Sullivan to casually toss it around the neck of the class queen’s pet dog. The sound of laughter echoed all around me as I stood frozen, humiliated. I turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me. “Relax, Anthony,” one of his friends called after me, laughing. “Chloe will come crawling back in under thirty minutes. She always does.” They were wrong. I wasn’t in this for Anthony Sullivan. Not really. I was just trying to collect the beauty points my system had promised me. See, the system gave me two options if I wanted to become beautiful: One, I could “win over” Anthony Sullivan, the school’s golden boy. Or two, I could become a straight-A academic superstar. Being the lazy girl I was, I chose the first option. Who wouldn’t? Flirting seemed a lot less painful than hours of study. But standing there, humiliated by Anthony’s cruelty, I had a revelation. If I had the determination to chase after a guy like him, why couldn’t I put that effort into something meaningful? Why not aim for the top universities in the country instead? And so, I gave up on Anthony and poured everything into preparing for the national academic competition. But just when I was on the verge of winning gold, Anthony couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re doing all of this for him, aren’t you?” he snapped, pointing at the quiet, sharp-eyed boy standing beside me—the academic prodigy he had just punched in a jealous fit. I slapped Anthony across the face. I had already transformed into someone stunning. Men were lining up for me. Why on earth would I waste another second on him? For Anthony’s birthday, I’d gone all out preparing a thoughtful gift: the protection charm from the temple. It hadn’t been easy. I wasn’t exactly athletic, and climbing that mountain had felt like a death sentence. But for Anthony, I pushed through. Halfway up, I was wheezing like an asthmatic goat, ready to collapse. “Come on, Chloe!” the system chirped in my head. “You can’t win Anthony over without that protection charm! And you can’t get your beauty points without winning him over!” The system had a point. So, gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up the trail. When I finally made it to the top, drenched in sweat and on the verge of passing out, I got my charm. Later that evening, I set up the perfect birthday surprise. I decorated the room, arranged a cake, and waited for Anthony and his friends to arrive. The moment they walked in, my heart sank. Next to Anthony stood Katie Harper, the school’s undeniable queen bee. Her hair was immaculate, her makeup flawless, her features strikingly delicate. The two of them looked perfect together. Still, I wasn’t about to back down. “Happy birthday, Anthony,” I said, stepping forward and holding out the charm. “What’s this?” he asked, taking it from me with as much interest as if I’d handed him a napkin. “It’s a protection charm,” Katie chimed in, her voice sweet and melodic. She turned to Anthony, smiling. “Chloe’s so thoughtful. I heard this charm is only available at the temple on top of Redridge Mountain. She must’ve climbed all the way up to get it for you. Isn’t that sweet?” “Wait,” Anthony said, narrowing his eyes at me. “You climbed a mountain for this?” “Well, yeah,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “I heard the temple was really special and…” Before I could finish, Anthony cut me off with a laugh. “Are you serious? You climbed all the way up there for this stupid thing? What, did you think this would make me fall in love with you or something?” I froze. He wasn’t done. “God, Chloe. Do you seriously believe this is some kind of romance movie? Crawling up a mountain for a charm just to prove how much you ‘love’ me? Did you even stop to think if you’re worth it?” The room filled with laughter. “Man, Anthony,” one of his friends jeered. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a real-life stalker!” “Yeah,” another chimed in. “She finally confessed! Took her long enough!” Anthony’s face darkened, and he turned back to me with a look of pure disdain. “You really picked my birthday to pull this pathetic stunt?” he snapped, holding up the charm like it was trash. “Look at yourself in a mirror sometime, Chloe. You actually thought I’d be into you?” I felt my chest tighten, my vision blurring with unshed tears. I had known Anthony might reject me. I had prepared for that. But I hadn’t expected him to humiliate me like this. This was the same Anthony who’d once been kind to me, the same Anthony who had helped me when I was at my lowest. How could he use my insecurities to tear me apart like this? “Anthony, don’t be so harsh,” Katie said, her voice dripping with feigned sympathy. She turned to me with a pitying smile. “Chloe clearly likes you. She must’ve thought you liked her back. I mean, why else would she have the courage to confess in front of everyone?” Her words were like gasoline on a fire. “Like her?” Anthony shouted, his voice rising. “Are you out of your damn mind, Katie? What makes you think I’d ever be interested in her? I’m not blind!” 2. Anthony was so furious that the veins on his forehead were bulging. Just then, Katie’s fluffy chow chow waddled into the crowd, its tail wagging. Katie scooped up the dog and kissed its head affectionately. “Aww, tell Daddy not to be mad anymore. It’s his birthday—he should be happy!” Daddy? Wait, wasn’t that Katie’s dog? And just like that, it all clicked. Anthony had already become the daddy of Katie’s dog. “Come here, Coco,” Anthony said, his anger melting away as he patted the dog’s head gently. So that’s how it was. Anthony treated me worse than a dog. The next thing I saw made my blood boil—he took the protection charm I had painstakingly climbed a mountain to get for him and tied it around the dog’s neck. “Here, you can play with this,” he said casually. “Whoa, Anthony! You just gave your little fangirl’s gift to the dog! She’s gonna lose her mind, man!” one of his friends jeered, laughing hysterically. They weren’t wrong. I was losing my mind. I had sweated and struggled to climb that mountain for hours to get that charm. And now? He’d just turned it into a toy for Katie’s dog. I felt both angry and heartbroken. Sure, I was chasing Anthony because of the beauty system, but my feelings for him had been real. But this? This was like stomping on my pride and grinding it into the dirt. Sure, I wasn’t beautiful, but I had dignity. If Anthony saw me as nothing more than a joke, then why should I waste another second chasing after him? As laughter erupted around me, I stormed out, slamming the door behind me. “She’ll come back,” one of Anthony’s friends said, snickering. “She’s just a little lapdog—give her half an hour, tops.” But they were wrong. That was the moment I decided I would never like Anthony again. He had let me stay in his life, allowed me to orbit around him—not because he appreciated me, but because I was convenient. I wasn’t a person to him. I was a tool. And I’d been stupid enough to let myself believe otherwise. I had thrown him a birthday party. I had bought him a thoughtful gift. I had even confessed my feelings to him in front of everyone. And all I’d gotten in return was humiliation. Katie’s laughter rang out behind me, sharp and grating. Katie Harper—the transfer student who had turned everything upside down from the moment she arrived. Her striking features and hourglass figure had caused quite the stir. With her long, flowing hair and perfectly styled makeup, she had quickly become the girl everyone wanted to be—or be with. Anthony had been distant ever since she showed up. Before she came, he’d still let me hang around his group. I’d run errands for him, but he’d let me stick around and join their conversations. Back then, I’d convinced myself that Anthony wasn’t shallow. That he wasn’t just about looks. After all, he had stood up for me once. When classmates mocked my appearance, Anthony had spoken out. “Do you seriously think it’s funny to bully someone over how they look?” It was Anthony who had pulled me out of a humiliating situation, who had taken me to the nurse’s office after I’d been pushed down and pepper-sprayed by a group of bullies. “Don’t be scared,” he had said at the time, his tone firm but kind. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” That Anthony had given me hope. He had made me believe that maybe, just maybe, I could win him over. But Katie’s arrival had changed everything. 3. I had officially become a full-time errand girl. Anthony didn’t let me linger around him anymore, nor did he invite me to hang out like he used to. He’d make me deliver an umbrella to the basketball court in the middle of a downpour but wouldn’t let me stay and grab dinner with his buddies. He’d have me take my neatly organized class notes to him but wouldn’t ask me to study with him. The teasing from classmates got worse: “Chloe, don’t tell me you actually think Anthony likes you?” “Only someone like Katie—gorgeous, popular, flawless—could ever match him. Give up already.” But I refused to believe them. I stubbornly continued to treat him well. “Chloe, can you grab some cold medicine from the nurse’s office?” I saw Anthony’s message and thought he was sick. Without hesitating, I sprinted to the nurse’s office and bought the medicine. Then I hurried to his classroom to deliver it. “Well, well, Anthony, your little errand girl is here again,” one of his friends jeered. Anthony barely raised an eyebrow as he took the medicine from my hands. “Are you sick, Anthony? Is it serious?” I asked, concerned. His friends burst into laughter. “Anthony, did you hear that? Your little assistant really cares about you!” But Anthony didn’t even acknowledge me. He calmly poured the medicine into a cup, filled it with steaming hot water, and walked out the door. I stood there, stunned, watching him head straight to another classroom—the one Katie was in. “Katie, here, drink this,” he said, handing her the cup. My heart dropped. Anthony wasn’t sick. He’d sent me to get the medicine just so he could give it to her. “Anthony, how could you? I thought you weren’t feeling well…” Katie glanced between Anthony and me, then smiled sweetly. “Oh, Chloe, you got this for me? Thank you so much!” Wait. What? Why was she thanking me? What was their relationship? “Chloe,” Anthony snapped, annoyed, “it’s just some medicine. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” He rolled his eyes, speaking to me in a tone he never used with Katie. I felt a lump in my throat. He really did like her, didn’t he? “System,” I whispered in my mind, “it looks like Anthony has fallen for Katie…” “Host, would you like to explore an alternative path to becoming beautiful?” I hesitated, unsure of what to do. I trudged back to my own classroom, feeling defeated. As I passed by a window, I caught a reflection of myself. Small eyes, flat nose, protruding mouth, and a wide face. I was hideous. So, that’s why Anthony liked Katie. Because she was pretty. But if he liked me, I’d become beautiful overnight. You see, I wasn’t just an ordinary girl. I was bound to a beauty system. The system had told me there were two paths to becoming beautiful: Win Anthony’s heart. Become a straight-A student. Naturally, I chose the first option. Who wants to bury their head in books when they can chase love instead? Anthony wasn’t just any guy. He was the most handsome guy at school—tall, athletic, charming, and from a well-off family. Most importantly, he’d never mocked me. In fact, he’d once stood up for me. I still remember that day vividly. A group of mean girls had shoved me to the ground and sprayed chili water into my eyes. Anthony had stepped in, pulled me up, and taken me to the nurse’s office. “Making fun of someone’s looks? Real classy,” he’d scolded them. “Don’t worry,” he’d told me, his voice low and comforting. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 4. His voice was so deep, so soothing, that I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. So when the beauty system appeared, I was overjoyed. It felt like the universe was giving me permission to like Anthony. To become beautiful for the one I loved—it sounded so romantic. Without hesitation, I chose the first path. I’d even daydreamed about the moment Anthony and I got together. Would he be surprised when he realized I’d transformed into a stunning beauty? Would he be happy? But now, after more than a year of chasing him, I’d gotten nowhere. Despite everything I’d done, the system’s progress bar for my beauty hadn’t budged an inch. It was clear—I needed a new strategy. Why waste my time pining after someone who didn’t care about me? Why not aim for something bigger, something better? Like getting into one of the top universities in the country? I summoned the system. “I want to change my approach. I’ll choose the second option.” “Understood. Host has selected the academic path to beauty. If your test scores improve by 30 ranks next month, you’ll receive 10 beauty points.” With a new goal in mind, I felt a surge of motivation. “Study hard, become a straight-A student, and transform into a beauty—let’s go!” When the new week began, I threw myself into my studies. I highlighted anything I didn’t understand and stayed after class to ask the teachers questions. I used every free moment to study, staying glued to my desk during breaks. Anthony and I weren’t even in the same class. If I didn’t go out of my way to see him, we’d have no interaction at all. Maybe he noticed something was off because, after gym class one day, he cornered me in the hallway. “Why haven’t I seen you around lately? Are you mad at me?” he asked. I ignored him. Anthony shifted awkwardly. “Look, what I said on my birthday was harsh, but you have to admit, you were out of line.” Out of line? All I’d done was confess my feelings. Was that really so terrible? I guess it was, if the person on the receiving end didn’t like you. But I didn’t care anymore. Anthony, seeing that I wasn’t responding, started giving me orders again. “I’ve got a basketball game tomorrow. Make sure to bring water and tissues for the whole team.” And with that, he walked off without waiting for my answer. But there was no way I’d do it. I had no time for that nonsense anymore. My focus was on studying now. If I worked hard, I could become both a top student and a beauty. Why hadn’t I realized sooner how great this deal was? Anthony? He could go to hell. 5. The next afternoon, during club activity time, I was still glued to my seat, working through practice problems like a monk in meditation. “Chloe, aren’t you going to watch Anthony’s game today?” my desk mate whispered. I shook my head. “No. I’m done. I won’t be going anymore.” By the time I finished another worksheet, most of the classroom had emptied out. From the open-air basketball court below, I could hear the roar of the crowd, cheers erupting every now and then. But none of that mattered to me anymore. The girl who sat behind me was the top student in class. She was still at her desk, quietly working on her assignments. I glanced at her, then at the blank questions on my own worksheet. “Hey, genius, mind helping me out with this one?” I asked, forcing myself to sound casual. I braced for sarcasm or a snide remark, but none came. She simply took my paper, scanned the question, and began explaining in a calm, gentle voice. To her, I was just another classmate—no different from anyone else in the room. When she finished, I finally understood the problem. It hit me then: connecting with people wasn’t as hard as I’d made it out to be. Not everyone cared about how I looked or judged me for it. So why should I care so much? For the first time, I started enjoying studying. Just as I was diving back into my work, my phone buzzed with a new message. It was Anthony. “Where are you?” I wasn’t planning on watching his game, but I couldn’t let them go thirsty because of me. “I’m not coming. Ask someone else to grab water for you,” I replied. With that, I turned off my phone and dove back into my sea of practice problems. When the monthly exams rolled around, I hit my goal and jumped 30 spots in the rankings. “Congratulations, Host! You’ve earned +10 Beauty Points. Current Beauty Score: 15.” Wow. That’s when I realized: my starting beauty score had been a measly 5. After the system announcement, I rushed to the bathroom to check my reflection. Was it just me, or did my skin look a little less sallow? I even seemed a bit slimmer. “Host, if you improve by another 50 ranks in the next exam, you’ll earn 15 more Beauty Points.” Another 50 ranks? That would put me in the top 100! It sounded tough, but I couldn’t back down now. I doubled down on my studies, using every spare moment—even lunch breaks and bathroom trips—to memorize vocabulary and history facts. “Chloe has made remarkable progress this time. Everyone should take inspiration from her,” my homeroom teacher announced proudly after handing back the test results. It was the first time I’d ever been publicly praised like this. The feeling was… indescribable. I was still basking in the glow of those words when I bumped into Anthony on the stairs. “Chloe, looks like you’ve grown a backbone, huh? Skipping my game and even blocking me?” Anthony said, a smirk playing on his lips.

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On our third wedding anniversary, I tricked my husband, Benedict Gabor, into signing the divorce papers. The reason was that the doctor said I had stomach cancer and wouldn’t live past three months. Benedict thought I was throwing a tantrum. Annoyed but dismissive, he signed the papers and then whisked his precious Tylor Gabor away on a scenic overseas getaway. Later, when he realized I was serious, he used every method possible, threats, schemes, even outright vengeance, to try and bring me back. But all he got was a final goodbye at my funeral, delivered through a video I left behind. “Benedict,” my recorded voice began, calm and steady, “if you’re watching this, I’m already dead…” That day, the proud and unshakable Benedict finally lost his mind. I first sensed it was over when I landed in the hospital from overworking myself into a bleeding stomach. At that very moment, Benedict was at home, hosting a private fireworks show for Tylor in the backyard. When reporters shoved their microphones in my face, I forced a smile through my pale, exhausted expression. “Don’t speculate,” I said. “Benedict and I are doing fine. The girl you saw with him is just his cousin.” The journalists looked unconvinced, their disdain and disbelief practically dripping off their faces. The truth was, I wasn’t entirely lying. Tylor wasn’t his real cousin, though, just an orphan taken in by Benedict’s family. Our marriage had always been a calculated business arrangement. Benedict had played his role well until Tylor came back three months ago. Since then, he’d stuck to her side like glue, completely forgetting he even had a wife. The “perfect husband” image that the media had painted for him was nothing but a façade. That night, while the entire household staff was preparing fireworks for Tylor, I called Benedict over and over again. He didn’t answer. Left with no choice, I discharged myself from the hospital and took a cab home. The house was alive with celebration, the vibrant colors of fireworks painting the night sky. I stepped into the yard, cold and silent, entirely out of place amidst the revelry. Under the fireworks that illuminated the backyard, I saw Benedict tidying Tylor’s hair and feeding her a piece of cake. Suddenly, I felt like an outsider. The autumn leaves covered the ground. As I stepped on them, they crackled softly. Tylor noticed me first. She jumped out of Benedict’s arms like a frightened rabbit, her delicate expression painted with innocence. “Kendra!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling. “Please don’t misunderstand! We were just celebrating the company’s revival!” Huh. Revival? A celebration? Was she serious? The company did revive, yet she had no part in its recovery, none at all. As my disdainful gaze swept over them, Benedict charged toward me, shielding Tylor like she was a priceless treasure. “Kendra, can you stop wearing that poker face all day?” he snapped, his voice sharp and full of irritation. “Enough with the innocent routine in front of the cameras. Haven’t you had enough? “What do you want? My sympathy? My pity? Dream on!” Behind him, Tylor clung to his arm, her eyes glistening with crocodile tears. “Benedict, please calm down,” she whispered, trembling. “You’re scaring me.” The scene was absurd, a soap opera unfolding in my own home. But I was too exhausted to focus on this drama. To their surprise, I forced a smile, closing the distance between us. “Benny,” I said softly, my tone full of practiced sweetness, “don’t be mad. I didn’t misunderstand. I just wanted to remind you… today’s my birthday. I know you’ve been busy and must’ve forgotten, but it’s okay. I don’t blame you.” For a split second, he froze. A hint of guilt flickered across his face before being quickly buried beneath his usual indifference. “Birthday?” he repeated, scoffing. “Didn’t you always say you hated celebrating your birthday?” Yes. I used to say that. My mother had died giving birth to me. My birthday was also her death anniversary. My father, who worshipped her, would spend every year mourning her with grand ceremonies. For years, I avoided celebrating my birthday. But Benedict had once changed that. Over the first two years of our marriage, he’d celebrated with me, helping me shake off the shadow of grief. I could still remember his gentle words, whispered in my ear with a warm smile. “Kendra, from now on, you’ll never feel alone on your birthday. You’re not a curse. You’re my good luck charm.” Looking at him now, standing in front of me to shield Tylor, I realized those words had long since lost their meaning. But it didn’t hurt anymore. He didn’t know I’d already tricked him into signing the divorce papers a week ago.

The stomach bleeding today wasn’t a fluke. A week ago, I had been diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, with only three months left to live. That scene was still fresh in my memory. It was our third wedding anniversary, and I sat alone in the hospital hallway. Sweat soaked through the diagnosis report in my trembling hands. My legs felt like lead; I tried to stand several times but failed. My frayed nerves finally snapped after I called Benedict for the tenth time. “Kendra! Are you insane? Just because you have nothing better to do doesn’t mean others aren’t busy!” he roared. He wasn’t wrong. I was very sick, and it was indeed driving me insane. Before I could respond, a woman’s honeyed voice floated through the phone, turning my unsaid words into a lump in my throat. “Benedict! I knew you’d come! You missed me, didn’t you?” I heard Benedict’s low chuckle before the call was abruptly cut off. It wasn’t the first time. The first time he stood me up was to pick up Tylor when she returned to the country. The first time he hit me was because Tylor had damaged my piano. At first, I was shocked, but gradually, I stopped caring. The searing pain I once felt dulled into a faint ache. I made excuses for him over and over again, convincing myself it was all because Tylor was his cousin, and he had no other choice. But eventually, I had to face the truth—he wasn’t powerless and chose this willingly. To Benedict, I was nothing more than a distraction when Tylor wasn’t around, a pastime he could step on. My dignity and love were crushed beneath his feet. So, I decided he would taste the bitterness of unrequited love. I would make him fall for me and be haunted by me. If he refused to care about me now, I would make myself a thorn in his heart. While I was alive, I would be a constant, nagging pain. After my death, I would leave him utterly broken. I recorded three videos, preparing to leave Benedict a gift he would never forget.

In my last month alive, I set aside my pride. I tolerated Tylor’s blatant provocations, pretending not to notice. But she wasn’t planning to let me off so easily. One evening, I discovered razor blades hidden in my piano keys. When Benedict came home, he saw me shouting at the teary-eyed Tylor. “Did you really have to go this far?” he scolded, his voice sharp and cold. Silently, I raised my hand, showing him the blood dripping from my wrist. “Benedict! Don’t you know what she…” Before I could finish, Benedict’s gaze fell on Tylor, trembling in the corner with fearful eyes. His face twisted in anger. The next thing I knew, a sharp slap landed across my cheek. “If your hand’s injured, go to the hospital. Stop making a scene here! You really are just a piece of trash with no one to teach you any better!” Every ounce of pride and ambition I had built up in my life crumbled in that moment. The man I had once leaned on now mocked me with disdain. “If you can’t play piano, then don’t. It’s just a tool you use to fish for attention, anyway.” My desperate, hysterical questioning only made me look like a lunatic in his eyes. He scoffed, “How dare you compare yourself to Tylor? She plays piano because it’s her dream. You? You only do it for your pathetic vanity and self-interest.” Tylor picked up a glass of water, pouring it over her head before smashing the glass onto the floor. With her drenched face and trembling lips, she looked pitiful as she turned to me. “Kendra, I didn’t mean to… Is this enough for you?” Benedict immediately rushed to her side, cradling her in his arms as he led her away to change clothes. Before leaving, he threw a cold glance my way. “Kendra, Tylor is like a sister to me. Watch yourself.” His gaze lingered on my bleeding hand, softening for just a second. Tylor seemed to notice this change. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she collapsed dramatically into Benedict’s arms. “Tylor!” he shouted, his voice panicked. Without another word, he carried her away. That extinguished the last flicker of hope in my heart. Left alone, I hailed a cab and went to the hospital to get my wounds treated.

I sent all the pre-recorded videos to my brother, who knew about my diagnosis and was fully aware of my plan. Ours was a family devoid of warmth. Raised under my father’s influence, my brother had always resented me, blaming me for our mother’s death during childbirth. “Kendra, your cancer is karma. You should’ve paid with your life for my mom a long time ago.” That was his first response upon hearing the news. I promised him the company, and he promised to play my videos at my funeral. My phone screen blinked on and off, and the messages came in nonstop. They were from Benedict, his location pinging from abroad. [Kendra, don’t worry. I’ll make it back for the family dinner tomorrow.] [You’re not mad, are you?] [Kendra, you have to understand. Tylor threatened suicide. I couldn’t just ignore her.] [She’s a living person! What kind of man would I be to let her die?] Each new message brought a numbing sensation to my lips and drained the strength from my limbs. As the screen filled with more notifications, I lost consciousness. When I collapsed to the ground, my final question lingered in my fading mind. Benedict, I just wondered how miserable your end would be. My soul detached from my body. I floated above, staring down at my pale face and lifeless body sprawled across the floor. Perhaps my unfulfilled rage moved the heavens, granting me this chance to witness their inevitable downfall. My phone, now running on its last bar of battery, showed over 99 unread messages. The final one from Benedict popped up: [Kendra, stop causing a scene. I might be late from the airport. Wait for me at Gabor Estate.] I let out a cold laugh and willed my consciousness to Gabor Estate, ready to watch the drama unfold. Soon, Benedict arrived in a rush, his tie crooked, his breaths uneven as he stormed into the estate. “Grandfather, where’s Kendra? I need to speak with her privately,” he asked. Anton’s furrowed brows deepened at his grandson’s frantic demeanor. “Benny! Must you always act so recklessly? And you’d better rein in Tylor’s antics from now on. Our family isn’t yet free from relying on Kendra’s family’s support. “If it hadn’t been for Tylor’s tantrums about studying piano abroad and your secret misuse of company funds, the company wouldn’t have ended up in such a dire situation. You can’t afford to push Kendra away. Watch your temper!” Benedict’s expression twisted, a mix of annoyance and frustration darkening his features. “Grandfather, is this really the time to bring that up? If Kendra hears about this, everything will be ruined!” A pang of bitterness coursed through me. So, the financial crisis I nearly died trying to save them from was Tylor’s doing. Benedict’s past kindnesses were never about love; they were about greed, about using me to revive his failing company. “What?” Anton asked, confused by Benedict’s accusatory tone. Benedict froze for a moment, his composure cracking. “She… hasn’t arrived yet?” He sighed, pulling out his phone. He dialed my number over and over, but no one picked up. By the time he had called three times with no answer, panic began to creep into his expression. “Pick up, Kendra! Answer the phone!” He started pacing, frustration boiling over as he stomped his feet in agitation. Anton suggested they sit down, reminding him that the family dinner couldn’t be delayed since everyone was already present. Benedict reluctantly took his seat at the table, but no sooner had he settled than his phone rang. Excitement lit up his face, only to be replaced by confusion and unease as he listened to the voice on the other end. It was my brother, Victor. “Benedict, make sure to attend Kendra’s funeral tomorrow.”

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I was Alpha Gorge’s dog—silent, submissive, chained by his every command. I crawled in the dirt, did things even the moon would scorn, all for a love I thought would one day be returned. But when that day came—he stood there, arms around another, his eyes as cold as the void, his words cutting deeper than any claw. “I’m bored with you.” My heart turned to ice. I bonded with Alpha Mike. Alpha Gorge, waiting for me to beg, to crumble, stood paralyzed—shocked—as I walked away, leaving him behind. When he saw me standing strong, unbowed, beside another—his wolf howled. “Selina, you’re going to be Alpha Gorge’s luna? You didn’t even tell me? Do you have any conscience?!” Eva’s words struck like claws, echoing in my ears. I froze. Alpha Gorge—my Alpha—had announced it to the Pack? Why didn’t he tell me? Three years of devotion. Finally… it’s my turn. But when I stepped inside,the familiar scent of my Alpha, that earthy, primal scent, mingled with something sharp. I pushed open the door, everything shattered. There she was. Innocent, pure. Her arms wrapped around Alpha Gorge’s neck, her head nestled against his chest. “Gorge, how does it feel…” Her voice was soft. Suddenly, Alpha Gorge’s hand shot out. “Let me smell it.” He yanked her bra strap aside. The girl let out a soft, silvery laugh. The moment I stepped in, the girl’s laughter cut off, her eyes flashing with panic as she scrambled to get off Alpha Gorge’s lap. But he caught her, his grip like iron, pulling her back against him. “What are you afraid of?” His voice, low and taunting, sent a shiver down my spine. He shifted his attention back to her, fingers gently lifting her chin, pushing her face toward his. “You think you’re my Luna?” I laughed, bitter and forced, my voice laced with fury. “I thought you were claiming me, Gorge. Finally making it real. But it’s just another game, isn’t it?” Alpha Gorge’s eyes darkened. “Oh, it’s real, alright. I am claiming my Luna.” His hand slid down Amelia’s neck, possessive and slow, like a hunter savoring the kill. “But it’s not you, Selina. She’s my true mate.” Amelia curled deeper into Alpha Gorge’s lap, her eyes sparkling with victory. “So, you must be Selina, huh? The longest lover of Alpha Gorge. But guess what? It’s me and him now. Guess I’ve won.” Her words sliced through me. Alpha Gorge, with that same mocking smile, leaned down to kiss her. “Oh, Alpha Gorge, my shoes are dirty, my OCD… let me clean them first.” “You don’t have to do that, Selina,” he sneered. “Selina, Just lick them clean.” My heart shattered into jagged pieces. Three years of devotion—and this is how I was discarded. “If this is just to humiliate me, congratulations. You’ve succeeded,” I turned to leave. But in an instant, Alpha Gorge’s hand was on me. He yanked my arm hard, pulling me back. “Where do you think you’re going?” Before I could react, his fingers twisted under my chin, forcing me to look into his icy eyes. “Look at you,” he snarled. “Look at this pathetic thing you’ve become. Filthy. Weak. So damn common. Do you really think you deserve me? A beast like you?” I struggled, pulling away, but his hold was suffocating. “You’re nothing but a plaything!”

Three years ago, on a blistering afternoon, I sat at a street-side café, sipping my iced latte. Lost in the quiet of the moment, I didn’t notice him. Alpha Gorge was parked across the street, his eyes fixed on me like a wolf tracking its prey. I had no idea, but the moment my lips brushed the straw, he was already enchanted. “ I saw an angel, glowing under the sun, pure and untouched.” I teased, “Is this how you charm all the women, Gorge?” He just smirked, and from that moment, I became his target. He sent flowers—mountains of them. Cars. A villa. Not a love letter, but a full-on show of force. The Pack watched as I became the envy of every woman around. But behind that glittering world, there was a dark truth. I was the one hundredth. The one hundredth, they whispered. Three months. That was his average. Then the next one. Gone. I was completely captivated by him. Back then, he doted on me like I was the center of his world. If I was the slightest bit upset, he’d be broken-hearted, ready to spend a fortune just to see me smile again. A hundred million, just for me to buy something to cheer up. I fell for him, deeper than I ever thought possible. And with each passing day, a new fear gripped my heart: Would I end up just like his exes, tossed aside after three months? The thought terrified me. It was like clockwork. I couldn’t bear to be just another one. So, I changed. I let go of everything that once made me who I was. All that mattered was keeping his attention. “Do you like this?” I asked, spinning in front of him, wearing something bold, daring—desperate for that flicker in his eyes. He didn’t even look up at first. That flicker. That was all I needed. In the bedroom, I morphed into whatever he wanted. Roleplay? Anything. Limits? Nonexistent. “I need you like this,” he’d demand, and I’d bend until I was unrecognizable, just to see him smile. And when Alpha Gorge hung out with his pack, I became them,making porn jokes. “Bet you can’t handle this,” I’d joke, crude and low, pushing out words that once would’ve made me sick. They laughed, and I basked in it. Soon, the Pack had heard it all. I wasn’t his lover anymore. I was his slave. “Call me. I’ll be there . ” I said to him one night, my voice hollow. “I was just… your personal slave.” No matter where I was, no matter what I was doing—Alpha Gorge’s voice echoed in my mind. “Come here.” It didn’t matter if I was with friends, in a meeting, or in the middle of something important. I dropped everything. Within half an hour, I was his. One day, he stood before me, eyes dark, commanding. “I want to see you act like a horse.” A horse. I barely blinked before I was on all fours, the collar cold against my skin. “Now,” he demanded. “Crawl.” I didn’t hesitate. Hands and knees hit the concrete, scraping against the rough pavement, my body sinking into the cold ground. The collar tugged on my neck as if it owned me. The world around us kept moving, oblivious to the humiliating scene I was playing out, but I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was his approval. “Crawl.” His voice was sharper now. I obeyed, head bowed low. My hands and knees burned with the friction, but I kept crawling. I felt eyes on me. Whispered. Judged. But I didn’t hear them. “Faster.” His voice was cold and commanding, and I moved quicker, each scrape of my skin on the concrete a reminder of my place. I was nothing. No one. His. And that was all that mattered. The moment the footage hit the internet, it exploded. Images of me—humiliated, broken, crawling through the streets like a creature—spread across every screen. “Look at her. Pathetic. A toy for the Alpha.” “She’s nothing but an animal now.” But then, I heard it. The ring of a phone. Alpha Gorge’s voice on the other end, cold and commanding. “I see they’re talking about you.” I swallowed hard, but I didn’t speak. I knew what he meant. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” And just like that, the chaos started to fade. But in others’ heart, I became nothing more than a whisper—a fleeting shame in the background of his world. I was Alpha Gorge’s slave. Three years. And I thought I’d finally broken the curse of the three-month rule—I thought I had his heart. But this morning—he announced he was claiming a new Luna. And I? The last to know. The bride wasn’t me. He brought her back to our home, kissed her in front of me, just to see me break. And then, with that cold smile, he said, “You’re nothing. Low, vulgar. You could never be worthy of me.” Wasn’t I molded by his own hands?

After Alpha Gorge tossed me aside, I became the entire Pack’s punchline. “Selina, huh?” they whispered, laughing behind my back. “Three years with Alpha Gorge, and what does she get? Played, used, then tossed. ” I ignored my parents, thinking staying close to him was worth it. Riverpack—his world—was supposed to be my place. Now, look at me. I knew the man was a flirt, a player. He loved new faces. But I thought—I thought—I could keep him. How naïve. When I was his, his brothers would call me “sister-in-law,” their smiles all fake warmth. Respect in front of him, mocking behind his back. But now? Now, they look at me like I’m a disease. “Don’t catch anything from her,” I can see it in their eyes. Alpha Gorge was my first. I never even looked at another man. But now, I’m nothing to him. I stepped out of the villa. Without Alpha Gorge, Riverpack felt massive, and I was utterly lost. Thankfully, Eva—my blunt, carefree best friend—was there. I crashed at her place. Three years of being Alpha Gorge’s slave came flooding out. She held me silently. “You’ll figure it out, Selina. ” That night, the phone rang. It was my father. “Selina,” “Mike from Stonepack wants to marry you.” I froze. The name echoed from my childhood. The Alpha of Stonepack. “He’s an Alpha now, Selina..” “But… I haven’t seen him in years. Why now?” “He wants you, Selina. This is your chance.” I was dizzy. Eva’s eyes were on me. “But… didn’t Mike have that accident? Isn’t he sex impotent…?” My father hesitated. “Yes. But he’s still Alpha. ” After my parents told me about the situation, they were very hesitant and said that if I couldn’t accept it, I should just reject it. Given the long-standing relationship between the families, Mike’s side wouldn’t make things difficult for us. In the midst of their shock, I directly told them, “I agree to the marriage.” All these years, living by Alpha Gorge’s side, I’ve done it all—the things I should and shouldn’t have done. I’ve become numb to all those so-called romantic passions between men and women. Marrying Alpha Mike, first, it would solidify Mountain pack’s position within the pack, and second, I want to settle down for once. As for whether Alpha Mike can still perform his duties as a mate, it’s no longer the most important thing to me. I didn’t expect to run into Amelia while I was grabbing my things from Alpha Gorge’s villa. “Well, well, if it isn’t Selina,” she sneered. “Is this because Alpha Gorge tossed you aside, and now you’re packing up to go back home?” It hadn’t been long since I’d last seen her, but she was already so different from the girl I first met. Back then, she was all innocence—long black hair, a white dress, and a shy, demure gaze. But now she was decked out in designer brands, jewelry glittering at every turn. I smiled, a bitter laugh. “You know, Amelia,” I said, “you’re becoming exactly what I used to be.” She froze for a second, but I could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. “One day, you’ll end up just like me,” I added, my smile growing colder. “Maybe even worse.”

I tried to walk past her, but Amelia quickly blocked my path again, “Don’t walk away, Selina,” she taunted. “You served Alpha Gorge for three years—his personal slave. You were used up, tossed aside… and now you’re just a broken toy. Aren’t you angry? Especially since I’ve only been with him for a few days, and he’s already claiming me as his luna?” “Move. His marriage to you has nothing to do with me,” I snapped, fury rising, but I was ready to walk away. “Tell me,” she smirked, “What was it like crawling on the streets like an animal? Did it excite him? Teach me how to please him!” The words hit me like a punch. Although Alpha Gorge used his position to get me out of the mess, it took months of therapy to even start healing. But then Amelia, that bitch, kept hitting me where it hurt. I raised my hand, ready to slap her across the face. But before I could reach her, she screamed, falling to the ground in an exaggerated heap. “Wahhh… I was just trying to say hi! Why do you hate me so much? Is it because I’m taking your place? ” she wailed. Before I could even react, the sharp sting of a slap burned across my cheek. I froze, eyes wide, realizing Alpha Gorge was standing right in front of me. “Selina, are you out of your mind? If you’re angry, take it out on me, but don’t drag her into this!” Alpha Gorge’s voice slashed through the air like a whip. “I didn’t touch her. She tripped on her own, but I’m sure you’d like to blame me for that,” I snarled. Alpha Gorge’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. He stepped closer, towering over me. “You’re mad because she’s replacing you, aren’t you? You’re nothing but a broken toy, Selina. A used-up thing I’ve grown tired of. But if you beg, I might allow you to be my mistress. After all, you’ve been well-trained—like a good little bitch.” My fists clenched, my wolf stirring beneath my skin, but I held it in. “No,” my voice steady, though every word dripped with fury. “Keep your twisted affection for her. You’ve already destroyed me once. I’m done. I’m not your pet anymore.” His eyes flashed dangerously. “You think you can walk away from me? ” “Try me.” He took a step forward. “Fine,” he spat. “But don’t think you’re safe. I own you, Selina. You’re nothing without me.” “I don’t need you. You’ve done enough damage,” I whispered, turning on my heel, my wolf fighting to get free as I walked away from him. I walked into my house, my heart still pounding. But then I froze. There, in the middle of the room, stood Alpha Mike. It had been nearly ten years since I last saw him, from middle school until now, after I graduated from college. The last time I saw him was at our elementary school graduation ceremony—he was a pale, skinny, brooding boy. But when we met again this time, I barely recognized him. He had grown into a tall, handsome man, standing at nearly six feet. After so many years, I felt both strange and shy in his presence. But he, on the other hand, greeted me with a confident smile and extended his hand toward me. “Luna, I’ve waited for you to grow up. Now I can finally marry you.” I stumbled over my words, looking into his deep, bright eyes. “Who’s your luna? We’re not even married yet, don’t call me that.” “Well, tomorrow we’re getting married. Today, let’s just call it a preview,” he teased . The next day, Alpha Mike and I held a grand Luna ceremony at the Mountain Garden Hotel. As we were reading our wedding vows, the doors of the hall suddenly burst open with a loud bang. “Selina! You can’t marry him, you can only marry me!” A figure drenched in sweat, eyes frantic, rushed toward us.

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