Category: English

Ten years after high school graduation, an old photo of me and my first love went viral. In the picture, we’re wearing our blue and white school jackets, fingers locked together, smiling radiantly at the camera. The internet started rooting for us immediately, launching a massive search to find us. They were disappointed to discover we had broken up years ago. He became the youngest hotshot on Wall Street. I was forced to move back to my dying rust-belt hometown, working to pay off debts, just another person drowning in the grind of daily life. Aside from a single high school reunion, our paths were never supposed to cross again. That same night, an anonymous question trended: “How is your high school sweetheart doing now?” A username I knew all too well caught my eye. His answer was a single, cold line: “Knowing she’s miserable makes me feel a whole lot better.” 01 I stared at those words for a long time. I was the one who helped Austin set up that account back in the day. I even picked the username. The profile picture was still the one I chose—a photo of our hands showing off the matching promise rings we used to wear. The all-seeing eyes of the internet quickly connected the dots, identifying him and boosting his comment to the top. “Holy shit, the guy from the photo actually showed up.” “Damn, dude, aren’t you a super successful big shot now? This seems a little petty.” “I thought you guys had an amicable breakup? Why do you sound like deadly enemies?” Austin didn’t reply again. It was as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain a relationship that was dead and buried. I didn’t leave a comment, either. I just clutched my phone and quietly gave his answer a ‘like.’ 02 The photo stayed in the trending topics longer than anyone expected. A media outlet reached out, wanting to do a quick interview with me. Audio only, no face, just three questions. But they offered two thousand dollars. I couldn’t afford to say no. “How did you feel when you saw that old photo?” the female host asked gently. “Do you have any regrets?” “No,” I said honestly. If that old photo hadn’t suddenly gone viral, I hadn’t thought about the name Austin Miller in a very long time. The boy I loved as a teenager… No matter how unforgettable it felt then, it’s hard to remember forever. Not when I’m working fourteen-hour days, slaving away for a paycheck just to survive. I don’t have time for nostalgia. “What was the specific reason for the breakup?” I was silent for a moment. “I chose my future over him.” The host paused, then asked instinctively, “Do you regret it?” I shook my head, my voice firm. “I don’t.” “Last question,” the host said, her voice softer now. “You both attended your high school reunion last year.” “Did you talk to each other?” My heart stuttered. 03 Austin had come back to town last year. It coincided with our high school’s centennial celebration. He was invited as a guest of honor and casually donated five million dollars. The reunion was organized around that event. Halfway through the dinner, Austin pushed open the door and walked in. The arrival of the newly minted billionaire sent the private dining room into a frenzy. I sat in the corner, feeling like I was on a bed of nails. Without the school jacket, his teenage vibe had mostly faded. He stood there, perfectly poised, a faint smile playing on his lips as his calm gaze swept across everyone in the room. Impossible to read. Austin had other plans that night, so he didn’t stay long. He had a few courtesy drinks, never once glancing my way, paid the entire bill, and left. The party broke up early. I found my rusty moped parked outside, planning to log on and deliver a few food orders before calling it a night. It started pouring, a massive downpour. Trying to rush a delivery for a superstore before the deadline, I made a left turn at a yellow light and collided with a luxury car going straight. When I saw the Bentley emblem, my stomach dropped. The door opened. Austin stepped out, holding an umbrella. “How are you driving? This is a green light, you’re turning left, which means you’re totally at fault. Even a scratch on a car this expensive means sending it back to the factory for a full body job, millions in repair costs…” The driver, seeing the scratched paint, was absolutely frantic to shift the blame. A few steps away, Austin was leaning lazily against the car, impeccably dressed, his expression cold. His eyes swept over me from time to time, as emotionless as a stagnant well. I apologized, my voice barely a whisper. I kept my head down, burying my last shred of self-respect beneath the heavy, oversized helmet. “What’s going on?” A pleasant female voice hit my ears. There was actually a third person in the car. A woman jumped out, holding up her dress. Seeing my pathetic, rain-soaked state, she frowned impatiently. “Mr. Miller, forget it. Let’s not waste time on this small stuff.” Austin didn’t say anything. He stood there silently, eyes cast down, impossible to tell what he was thinking. The woman’s voice took on a wheedling tone. “You’re supposed to take me to meet your parents tonight. If this drags on, what about your parents?” There was only the clear sound of the rain. Then, I thought I heard someone let out a short, sharp laugh. Austin looked at me, his tone cold and mocking. “Yeah. What about them?” 04 I had a moment of total dissociation. What about them? What do I do? In the past, I was always the one asking Austin those questions. What do I do if I can’t finish this essay? What if I fail this test? What if the gas station runs out of Slushies? Austin would just laugh, giving my forehead a sharp, ruthless flick with his finger. “Maya, could you even survive a single day without me?” It seemed like I couldn’t. Austin and I had met in kindergarten; we had never been apart. Whenever things got tough, my first instinct was always to find him. He’d figure it out for me in the end, anyway. Right up until we broke up. Before that, I had never even tied my own shoes. Austin used to jokingly call himself my “personal manservant.” Our classmates teased that I was a charm dangling off Austin’s backpack. He took care of me wherever he went. Austin never denied it. He would just grasp my hand within his, looking down, idly flipping it over and over, playing with my fingers. Sometimes, thinking of something, he would let out a soft sigh. “Maya, if we ever separate.” “I’m the one who won’t be able to survive.” 05 The woman’s name was Sarah. She was Austin’s secretary, and she had been working her tail off at his side for years. Thanks to her, Austin not only didn’t make me pay for the damage, but he also had the driver take me to the hospital for a checkup. I let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. I have a younger sister who just started middle school. It’s a demanding age, a time that requires a lot of money. My mom’s health isn’t good; she’s always in and out of the hospital. Over the years, our savings have dwindled to almost nothing. Taking on debt right now would have been the absolute breaking point for us. While I was at the hospital waiting for the exam results. I overheard the driver gossiping on the phone with a friend: “Yeah, Mr. Miller took Secretary Sarah back to his hometown to meet his parents.” “They started as colleagues, and soon she might be the Mrs… Ah, well, you gotta admit some people are just born lucky. They both came from nothing, but she’s about to marry into money.” “It’s pretty sudden, though. It’s obvious she’s been into Mr. Miller for years, but he’s never had eyes for anyone else because of that ‘lost love’ of his… Guess he finally accepted her.” “Yeah, maybe he finally let go.” I got home really late that night. Exhausted, I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. And I dreamed. I dreamed of the summer right after high school graduation. The college acceptance letters had come. Mine was for D-State. It was on the opposite coast from the school Austin was attending, separated by thousands of miles. Getting into that specific top-tier university had been our shared goal since the start of senior year. Our SAT scores were only separated by a few points. If nothing unexpected had happened, we should have been going to the same place. “How did this happen, Maya?” Austin’s eyes were blood-red, forcing a faint, painful smile. “This had to be a mistake, right? It doesn’t matter. I’ll retake my exams and go to D-State next year. Being a grade behind you is better than being apart for four years.” How could it be a mistake? We had checked and double-checked each other’s applications, terrified that a wrong choice would pull us apart. I pulled my hand away from his, taking a few steps back. “Stop lying to yourself.” My voice was calm, almost cruel in contrast to his obvious agony. “I changed my choice on purpose.” In my peripheral vision, I saw his lean frame go rigid, his face turning ghostly white. “Why?” “So I could be away from you.” “Austin, I only got close to you so you would help me study. I used you.” “The guy I actually like is the president of the math club. He got accepted to D-State, and we’re going together. I lied to you until the very end because I was scared you’d get obsessed and try to apply there, too.” “Austin, I’m begging you. Don’t retake your exams for me. Just leave me alone.” I cast my eyes downward. “I really don’t love you.” 06 The interview video was released soon after. Probably because it lacked any real scandalous gossip, it didn’t generate nearly as much heat as the old photo. But the two thousand dollars was in my account, feeling like easy money. I fantasized about using it for a full physical checkup, maybe even a little trip. But reality was quick to crash down on me. My sister’s homeroom teacher called. She had gotten into a fight with a classmate at school. When I rushed to the hospital, I realized how serious it was. It was a boy whose eye had been scratched. The teacher said he had been inciting other students to isolate my sister, bullying her with cruel words for weeks. My sister finally snapped and lost her temper, trying to fight back. Although she was the victim, she was the one who initiated the physical violence. The tip of her pencil had scratched the boy’s right eyeball. If it wasn’t treated perfectly, it could permanently affect his vision. What shocked me even more… Sarah was the boy’s older sister. She was clutching her crying brother, her face cold as stone. “This isn’t a matter of money.” “This is aggravated assault. Your sister is over fourteen; she can be tried as a juvenile.” “If our Joey’s eye has permanent damage, we will make sure your sister pays the price.” Every word felt like a mountain crushing down on me. My mom was even more terrified, acting hysterical. She cried, physically forcing me to my knees to beg for mercy. Amidst the chaos. I felt my mother’s hands on my shoulders, forcing me down. The moment my knees were about to hit the cold floor. Someone grabbed my arms with a powerful, dominant grip, hauling me back to my feet. 07 Austin had brought in the best eye surgeon in the country. After the surgery, Joey’s eye was mostly fine, and they accepted our compensation package. When everything was finalized, I let out a massive sigh of relief. Austin was out in the hallway, making a phone call. Seeing me approach, he hung up, his face expressionless. “Need something?” The sound of water flowed from the sink as he washed his hands. I had a moment of dissociation. I suddenly remembered a night during senior year. I went to the school washroom, and Austin just happened to be there. Seeing me, he smiled. We were alone. He leaned in and kissed me, quickly and desperately. Ten years have passed. That fleeting sensation of his lips on mine seemed to rush back into my heart at this very moment. I forced a smile and said sincerely, “Thank you.” “You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you.” His eyes were downcast, his tone harsh. “Oh,” I replied. My eyes dropped to his hands and noticed something hanging from his phone case. It was a little stuffed cotton rabbit. I blinked. I had made that by hand when we were kids and given it to him as a silly little gift. He used to hang it from his backpack and refused to change it, even when it got dirty. But when we broke up, he had ruthlessly torn it off and thrown it away right in front of my face. The little rabbit had been torn open, its cotton stuffing spilling out. But now. The place that had been torn open was clumsily sewn back together with thick thread. “Did… did you sew that back together?” I raised my eyes to meet his. Austin awkwardly turned his face away. He looked down for a few seconds, then a slow, mocking sneer curled onto his lips. “What answer are you hoping to hear, Maya?”

During my pre-pregnancy checkup, the female ultrasound tech suddenly let out a loud, disgusted “tsk.” “You’ve got a scar on your lower abdomen. Have you had an abortion before?” “Your cervix shows signs of severe inflammation. Is your private life a mess?” “You’ve probably even had reconstructive surgery to fake your virginity, haven’t you?” Then, without listening to a word of my defense, she looked right at my husband: “You couldn’t get me, so you settled for this used goods?” “Aren’t you afraid of raising someone else’s kid?” I didn’t even have a chance to tell her. Because I was afraid I’d forget the doctor’s instructions, I had my phone’s voice recorder running the entire time… 01 I had been married to Arthur for a year, and we were planning to have a baby. To prepare for our future child, I booked an appointment at the best private hospital in the city for a comprehensive pre-pregnancy checkup. Arthur was excited the entire drive there, holding my hand tightly in his. “Chloe, do you think our baby will look more like you or more like me? “It’d be best if they have your eyes, bright and sparkling, smiling like little crescent moons. And my nose, high and straight. “We need to get the nursery ready ahead of time, and all those little clothes and shoes, we have to use the best quality…” I listened with a smile, feeling very satisfied. Arthur was the husband I had carefully chosen. He came from an ordinary background, but he was honest, good-looking, and incredibly attentive to me. Having grown up around parents who navigated the cutthroat corporate world, I was used to deceit and had no interest in so-called “matching social status” or “power couple” marriages. I just wanted to find a simple, clean guy to live a peaceful, stable life with. And I had more than enough money to maintain that stable life. I used my connections to get him a cushy job at a friend’s company—easy work, no overtime. Because I loved his content and grounded nature, I carefully protected his pride. I never threw the “I support you” fact in his face, nor did I ever mention our financial arrangement to outsiders. The female ultrasound tech was named Dr. Sarah Davis. She looked to be in her early thirties but was already an attending physician. She wore a crisp white coat, her hair pulled back into a strict bun, and gold-rimmed glasses. The gaze behind those lenses exuded an aloof, judgmental arrogance that kept people at a distance. From the moment we walked in, her eyes never left Arthur. And Arthur, the moment he saw her, visibly stiffened, his eyes darting away evasively. My heart gave a slight jolt, but I didn’t show a hint of suspicion on my face. “Hello, Dr. Davis. Thank you for seeing us.” I spoke softly, trying to ease the slightly weird atmosphere. Dr. Davis’s gaze finally shifted from Arthur to my face, her eyes filled with undisguised scrutiny. She didn’t respond, merely pointing coldly to the examination table behind the curtain. “Lie down. Pants down to your knees, shirt pulled up.” Her tone was stiff, like a command, completely lacking the bedside manner a doctor should have. Arthur seemed a bit embarrassed and tried to say something, but I stopped him with a look. I signaled for him not to worry, then quietly pressed the record button on my phone. After all, medical jargon can be confusing, and I was afraid I wouldn’t remember the precautions the doctor might give later. I lay down as instructed. The moment the cold ultrasound gel touched my skin, I couldn’t help but flinch. Then, the ultrasound wand was pressed down. Hard. With a vindictive force, pressing and moving forcefully across my flat stomach. It wasn’t gentle at all, bringing waves of dull, aching pain. I frowned in pain but didn’t make a sound. The only sound in the room was the rhythmic beep of the machine. The atmosphere was terrifyingly oppressive. Just then, Dr. Davis suddenly let out a loud, sharp “tsk.” The sound was sharp and clear, filled with disgust and contempt, like a needle precisely popping the dead silence. I saw Arthur’s face change instantly. He anxiously took a step forward. “Dr. Davis, what’s wrong? Is there a problem with my wife’s health?” 02 Dr. Davis ignored him. The wand pressed repeatedly against a specific spot on my lower abdomen, the pressure increasing. She stared at the screen, but a malicious sneer curled on her lips. Her voice, neither loud nor soft, was perfectly clear for both of us to hear. “You’ve got a scar on your lower abdomen. Have you had an abortion before?” Her words were like a bomb dropping in the small ultrasound room. Before I could even react, Arthur was already looking at me in shock, his eyes filled with disbelief. I knew what she was talking about. On my lower abdomen, there was indeed a very, very faint scar. That was from when I participated in a junior fencing tournament abroad as a teenager and accidentally got scratched by the blunt tip of an opponent’s foil. The wound wasn’t deep, but it left a light pink mark. I had mentioned it to Arthur in passing, but he probably forgot. Or rather, presented with the “authoritative interpretation” of an OB/GYN, he was more willing to believe the latter. My heart ran cold. I opened my mouth to explain, but Dr. Davis gave me no chance. The wand in her hand continued moving downward, her movements rough. The discomfort made me want to flee the examination table immediately. Her voice sounded again, even more acerbic and vicious than before. “Oh, your cervix also shows signs of severe inflammation. Tsk tsk, sister, is your private life a mess?” The words “severe inflammation” felt like a bucket of dirty water thrown right in my face. Arthur’s face had gone from shocked to bewildered. He looked at me, then at Dr. Davis, his lips moving, but not knowing what to say. After all, facing him was a “professional” doctor. And I was just a patient she had “diagnosed” with problems. Dr. Davis seemed very satisfied with Arthur’s reaction. She glanced at me contemptuously, as if admiring her own masterpiece. The movement of her hand finally stopped, but her mouth didn’t. “Looking at your age, you’re still so tight. You must have spent a lot of effort, huh? “You’ve probably even had reconstructive surgery to fake your virginity. “What a pity. You can fool a man, but you can’t fool my eyes.” Three rapid-fire strikes, each one lethal. These three accusations were enough to destroy any woman’s reputation and marriage. “Doctor.” Arthur spoke with difficulty, his voice dry. “Are you… are you sure you didn’t make a mistake? Chloe isn’t that kind of person…” Dr. Davis finally removed the wand from my body and slowly, deliberately wiped her hands with a paper towel. Then, she turned around, no longer looking at me, but looking completely, condescendingly at Arthur. She took off her glasses, revealing eyes filled with resentment. “Arthur, long time no see. You’ve really moved up in the world, haven’t you?” Her voice was dripping with bitterness. “You couldn’t get me, so you got desperate and picked up this ‘used goods’ that who knows how many men have run through? “Look at her, head to toe in designer brands. Now that you have money, you know how to deck out your new catch in gold and silver? “Did you forget when we were together, we couldn’t even afford a decent dinner at a nice restaurant? “I truly feel sorry for myself. How could I have ever fallen for a heartless thing like you!” By the end, she even had a hint of a sob in her voice, As if she were the deeply devoted, wronged victim. 03 And I, the “used goods” she was verbally attacking with such venom… Just sat up quietly and slowly, methodically adjusted my clothes. So that was it. It all made sense now. This Dr. Sarah Davis was Arthur’s ex-girlfriend. A bitter ex who, thinking her former boyfriend had struck it rich, couldn’t handle the jealousy and ran over to sow discord and try to ruin our marriage. Every word she said implied that Arthur had money now and had forgotten his old love. Unfortunately, she got one fundamental fact wrong. In our family, the one with the money was me. Arthur was just a man I had chosen, a guy with great “soft and hard skills” who was willing to marry into my lifestyle and take care of me at home. Watching Dr. Davis pouring her heart out to Arthur, Painting herself as a woman hurt by love who couldn’t bear to see her ex-boyfriend deceived, And Arthur… The man I always thought was honest and grounded… Was currently looking at her with a face full of guilt, an expression that said “I’m sorry you suffered.” My heart sank even further. I spoke up, shattering the tragic “rekindled romance” atmosphere between the two of them. “Dr. Davis, are you done?” Dr. Davis froze for a second, probably not expecting me to still be so calm. She glared at me fiercely: “A dirty woman like you has no right to speak!” Recklessly slandering a patient—is this her professional ethics as a doctor? I was just about to question her, but Arthur hurriedly cut me off. “Never mind, never mind, honey. Dr. Davis is just doing her job. Let’s not make a fuss.” I looked at him in astonishment, Wondering if he even knew who his wife actually was. Seeing this, Dr. Davis, thinking I really listened to Arthur’s every word, raised her chin even more smugly. “A gold digger like you who relies on men for everything should keep your mouth shut. Careful, or I’ll expose your messy private life and make sure you can’t hook a single one.” I looked at Arthur. His face wasn’t looking good, but his gaze was fixed on the ultrasound machine. It was obvious that his resentment was clearly born out of suspicion towards me, Not directed at Dr. Davis. But that scar on my stomach was so thin and shallow, Let alone giving birth, a Barbie doll couldn’t even fit through it. Moreover, the term “severe inflammation” for what she described had long been phased out by the medical community. It’s now called “cervical ectropion,” which is a perfectly normal physiological phenomenon and has absolutely nothing to do with one’s private life. Did Dr. Davis, this “expert,” not even know this basic common knowledge? I couldn’t help but wave my phone, the screen still lit up, and let out a mocking laugh. “Dr. Davis, the ‘diagnosis’ you just gave me… I recorded it all right here. “Fabricating facts, malicious slander, destroying someone’s reputation, and using your position to humiliate a patient. “Aren’t you afraid of being reported?” Hearing this, before Dr. Davis could even react, Arthur panicked first. He fake-scolded Dr. Davis: “Stop trying to cause trouble! I believe in my wife’s character.” Then he grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me outside. “Chloe, let’s go. This hospital is no good. We’ll find another one!” But his nervous demeanor wasn’t to protect me at all; it was to prevent Dr. Davis from getting reported. Because the hand gripping my wrist had absolutely no gentleness; he was pulling me so hard it hurt. And behind me, Dr. Davis was still provoking me. “You have a scar on your stomach. As a doctor, what’s wrong with raising reasonable suspicions? “Your cervix isn’t healthy either, that’s a fact. Why can’t I say it? “The hospital director is my uncle. Report me? Go ahead! “Let’s see if the rumors about you spread faster, or if my disciplinary action comes down first.” I wanted to turn back and continue arguing with her, but Arthur didn’t give me the chance. He practically dragged me all the way to the parking lot. 04 It wasn’t until we sat in the car that Arthur finally noticed my bright red wrist and ashen face. He spoke guiltily, a hint of cautious fawning in his voice. “Chloe, are you okay! “I’m so sorry. I was so afraid you’d get bullied, I didn’t notice for a second. “Sarah… she just has that awful temper. She speaks without thinking. I apologize on her behalf.” I watched him quietly, scrutinizing this man from head to toe. His inner ugliness was showing on his face. He looked uglier. When he thought I was going to throw a tantrum, I just quietly buckled my seatbelt and smoothed my hair in the rearview mirror. The woman in the mirror still looked the same. He truly was becoming less and less worthy of me. “Apologize? Why apologize? Didn’t you say it yourself? Dr. Davis was just doing her job.” I turned my head and looked at him, my gaze as clear and open as a spring. “Arthur, I’m not angry.” After all, I never liked venting emotions instead of solving problems. But the more I said this, the worse Arthur’s expression became, and the more anxious and uneasy he felt. “Chloe, don’t be like this…” He tried to explain: “I was in a rush to pull you away because I wanted to look at the big picture. I didn’t want to make an ugly scene at the hospital. “You know me, I’m just… I’m just not good at handling conflict. “Besides, I couldn’t possibly doubt you just because someone else said a few words. Don’t you even have that much confidence in yourself?” “I know.” I nodded understandingly, as if completely convinced by him. “You’re just too honest and grounded, always trying to keep the peace. It’s okay, I understand.” He opened his mouth, but realized that any explanation would seem pale and powerless in front of me. Ultimately, he could only dejectedly start the car. 05 From that day on, everything between us changed. He would only get into bed after I fell asleep, and quietly leave before I woke up. The nights that used to be filled with endless conversation were now filled with a dead silence. I noticed all of this, but I said nothing, and was even too lazy to argue with him. When a man starts doubting you, every word you say can become new “evidence” in his eyes. Explaining only becomes covering up. I still wore exquisite makeup, dressed appropriately, and went out with a bright smile every day. Only, when he was showering, I would lock the study door and calmly consult the best divorce lawyers online. I had to admit, although Dr. Davis’s tactics were clumsy, they were indeed effective. She understood Arthur too well, understood the inferiority and paranoia in his bones. She started quietly sowing seeds in our shared social circle. First, it was Arthur’s best friend Mark’s wife, who asked me indirectly on WhatsApp: [Chloe, is Arthur under a lot of pressure lately?] [I noticed he closed his Instagram. Did you guys… have a fight?] Next, when I went to a college reunion with him, a female classmate seemingly casually pulled me aside and said: “Chloe, you’re so lucky. Arthur is so good to you. “But you know men, sometimes they still need a little extra attention. Especially… things like ex-girlfriends can easily make their minds wander.” I felt their strange gazes on me, a mix of sympathy, pity, and a barely noticeable hint of disdain. They looked at me as if looking at a woman using a glamorous exterior to hide a sordid interior. One evening, I finished my work early and went home. I quietly opened the front door, only to hear him on the balcony, talking on the phone. His voice was very low, but loud enough for me to hear clearly. On the other end of the line was Mark’s loud, boisterous voice. “Arthur, I’m telling you, you’re just too soft-hearted! What are you keeping a woman like that around for? “Sarah told me everything. The ultrasound showed it all! It’s a mess! You better wise up!” My footsteps stopped. I leaned against the doorframe, listening quietly. Arthur sighed, his voice full of exhaustion and grievance. “I… I don’t know what to do either. “After all, she’s the daughter of a rich family. It’s normal for them to play around. “Last time… last time I even saw a bottle of Vagisil in the bathroom. “Tell me, if she wasn’t messing around outside, why would she suddenly get a feminine infection?” Vagisil? I almost laughed out loud. That was something I bought at the pharmacy for daily cleansing a while ago when I was feeling a bit uncomfortable during my period. I didn’t expect this to also become evidence of his guilt against me. Truly, if you want to condemn someone, you can always trump up a charge. Mark’s voice grew louder, filled with the righteous indignation of a brother. “Fuck! Seriously? Isn’t that just an STD?! “Arthur, listen to me. You absolutely cannot keep a woman like this! So what if she has money? She’s dirty! “Hurry up and divorce her! Get a lawyer and make her leave with nothing! “Get all her money into your hands, and then we’ll find a clean, good girl! We all support you!” Then, I heard him agree with absolute certainty: “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve suspected she had someone on the side for a long time, otherwise why would she always refuse to be intimate with me. “Okay, I know what to do.”

When the tabloids broke the news of Ethan Cross’s impending marriage, he was lying with his head in my lap, reviewing a merger file. I thought it was just another piece of celebrity gossip and teased him: “Interesting. They’re actually saying you’re getting married next month.” Ethan casually flipped to the next page of the document. “Yeah. Make sure you’re free to play piano at the reception to celebrate.” I froze, completely stunned. Ethan traced his fingers over my face, a touch of mockery in his eyes. “It took a lot of work to get her to say yes. Be a good girl, okay? Don’t make a scene.” 01 My mind went completely blank. I stared at him, at a total loss for what to do. Ethan let out a soft scoff and set the file down on the coffee table. “Don’t look at me like a deer in headlights. It’s not like we’re never going to see each other again.” “Or did you actually think I was going to marry you?” I fought back tears, pushing against his shoulders to sit up. “These five years… what was I to you?” Ethan raised an eyebrow, sitting up and gripping my chin. “An assistant. You are the most capable assistant I’ve ever had.” I wasn’t satisfied. I asked again, my voice trembling. “Just an assistant?” Ethan’s expression darkened slightly. He wound a lock of my hair around his finger. “Sarah, do you know what I like most about you? You’re compliant. Smart. Rational. Sane.” “Right now, you’re acting in a way that is very annoying.” My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles. A dense, stinging pain surged through my body. He leaned in and kissed away the tear at the corner of my eye, his hand moving down slowly. My body’s instinctual reaction made me shudder slightly against my will. He laughed out loud, the sound filled with ridicule. “Don’t act so aggrieved. After all, you enjoy this too, don’t you?” I pushed him away with all my might and frantically grabbed my clothes, pulling them on in a panic. He sat up, resting his chin on one hand, watching me amusedly. “By the way, you know my fiancée. She’s timid. Don’t go near her, don’t scare her.” I froze mid-motion. A horrifying premonition seized my brain. “Who is it?” “The Sterling Group heiress. Harper Sterling.” It was like a lightning bolt struck me. My brain felt like it exploded, pressure throbbing violently at my temples, mixed with a piercing pain. “Why her? You know… she…” “That was all a misunderstanding.” Ethan reached out, pulled me back toward him, and got down on one knee to help me slip my heels back on. “Harper already explained everything to me. If you’re disrespectful to her because of things that happened in the past, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” He squeezed my ankle hard, looking up at me. It was a blatant threat in his eyes. The pain made it almost impossible to sit still. I forced a sliver of a voice out of my throat. “Understood.” 02 Winter in Chicago is unforgivably cold. I stood by the railing of a bridge over the Chicago River, the wind stinging my face like a slap. I used to think that Ethan and I would get married, have kids, and live a quiet, happy life just like any other loving couple. After all, no other man had ever treated me as well as he did. He would clumsily cook my favorite dishes himself. Even though he hated the smell of deep-dish pizza, he still took me to Lou Malnati’s to get the authentic stuff. He even went to a simulation class to experience the pain of childbirth, crying as he told me we shouldn’t have kids. I thought he loved me to his core, but it turns out he never once considered marrying me, let alone having a family with me. The north wind howled past, and the river water rushed furiously beneath the bridge. I stood on my tiptoes, about to lean over the railing, but someone suddenly grabbed me in a tight bear hug. It was an older woman, her face filled with panic, gripping my hand tightly. “Oh honey, I’ve been watching you for a while. It’s not worth it, it really isn’t.” “If something happened to you, it would break your parents’ hearts.” “Life is long. There’s nothing you can’t get through.” She took off her gloves, scarf, and hat, and put them all on me. Finally, she pulled a warm, foil-wrapped hot dog from her coat pocket. I had been holding back tears for so long, but at that moment, they completely exploded. I sobbed uncontrollably. I wasn’t actually trying to jump. I just wanted the cold wind to wake me up. To force myself to accept the brutal reality that Ethan Cross did not love me. But facing this stranger’s kindness, I suddenly felt so aggrieved, so full of resentment. 03 By the time Ethan’s call came through, I was already back at my apartment. “I’m formally introducing Harper to everyone tomorrow. You should be there.” I gripped the phone, my hand slowly tightening. “I don’t want to go.” Ethan let out a soft scoff. “Sarah, this is a notification, not a request. Harper wants you there.” “I said I don’t want to go.” My voice was terribly raspy. The cold wind from earlier seemed to have blown into my very bones. A bone-deep chill settled into my core. “Sarah!” Ethan lost his patience, his voice booming angrily. “If I don’t see you tomorrow, you can forget about ever getting your mother’s prescription covered again.” The line went dead. I leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, collapsing. 04 Having been by Ethan’s side for five years, I knew his friends well enough. So, when everyone saw me at the party, their eyes were filled with mockery. “How does she still have the nerve to show up? Live as a mistress long enough, and you actually start thinking you’re a phoenix flying to a high branch.” “Some people just don’t know what shame is. Who else would strip naked and crawl into a bed just for a promotion?” I kept my eyes on the ground, pretending not to hear a thing. Someone walked over and pressed his hand down on mine. His sticky breath fanned against my ear. “Sarah, don’t be sad. Now that Mr. Cross is tired of you, you can always come find me. I don’t mind leftovers.” The area erupted in crude, disgusting laughter. I clenched my teeth, stood up, and took a step back to put distance between us. “Please, respect yourself.” He gave me a predatory look, scanning my chest maliciously. “Still acting high and mighty? Believe it or not, I could handle you right here.” My body instantly went rigid. My palms were wet with fear. I looked toward the door over and over, desperately hoping Ethan would walk in. I knew exactly how vicious these people could be. At a moment like this, only Ethan could help me. Faced with his aggressive approach, I slowly backed into a corner. “Sarah, just give in to Mr. Miller. A secondhand good like you is lucky to have anyone want you at all.” They looked at me with greed, disdain, and excitement. Nailing me firmly to a pillar of shame. I had nowhere left to retreat, so I tried to quickly dart around him. But someone stuck their leg out, tripping me. I crashed to the floor. My arm caught a bottle of red wine on the adjacent table. It fell and shattered into pieces. I landed with both hands directly onto the glass shards. My white dress looked like it had been dyed red with blood. The crowd roared with laughter. I struggled to move, trying to stand up, but a sharp, agonizing pain shot up from my ankle. Mark Miller bent down and grabbed my hand: “Sarah, let me…” The door suddenly pushed open. Ethan, with Harper Sterling, arrived fashionably late. He saw me sprawled on the floor, his brow furrowing slightly: “What’s going on here?” “Sarah wasn’t careful walking, tripped and knocked over the wine. Mr. Miller was just helping her up,” someone smoothed over. Ethan’s gaze shifted to the hand Mark Miller had on me, his expression darkening slightly: “Let go.” Mark Miller awkwardly stood up, distancing himself from me: “Mr. Cross, don’t misinterpret this.” Ethan walked over quickly, a faint trace of worry in his eyes. “Ethan, let me help Ms. Jenkins up.” Harper Sterling’s voice was soft and warm, interrupting his motion to bend down. Ethan froze for a second, turned around, and said “Okay.” Harper extended her hand to me. I looked at that smiling face, and it was like I was transported back ten years. The terror from the bottom of my heart made me break out in a cold sweat. “Does Ms. Jenkins not like me helping her?” She looked innocent, a trace of grievance in her voice. Before I could speak. Ethan said with a cold face: “Since she doesn’t want to get up, let her stay on the floor. She’s really embarrassing me.” “Ethan, don’t speak to a woman like that,” Harper chided softly, helping me stand up. “Are you okay?” “Although everyone knows Mr. Miller is a ladies’ man, you didn’t have to ruin yourself like this just to attract his attention.” She was full of faux concern, but her eyes were full of vicious calculation. She viciously pinched the injured area. The pain was unbearable. I violently pushed her away: “Get away from me. Don’t touch me.” Harper staggered back a step and fell backward. I stared straight at her, wishing from the bottom of my heart that she would fall onto that pile of broken glass. Unfortunately, Ethan caught her. He aggressively slapped me across the face: “Harper was kindly trying to help you, and you treat her like this? You don’t know what’s good for you.” My ears were ringing. I felt like I stepped off a ledge, plunging continuously downwards. Ethan’s mouth was opening and closing; he was probably saying more horrible things, but I couldn’t hear him. When I recovered, I only heard the last sentence. “Sarah, apologize to Harper.” I looked at him in disbelief, wanting to defend myself, but not knowing how to say it. Perhaps even if I said it, Ethan wouldn’t believe me. “I am telling you for the last time. Apologize. Otherwise, you know what my methods are.” His voice carried a hidden threat. I curled my lips self-deprecatingly and let out a bitter laugh. “If I don’t apologize, you’ll cut off my mom’s medication, right?” He snorted coldly and said no more. How ridiculous. The person who used to constantly say he wouldn’t let me suffer a single grievance was now making me apologize to the person who bullied me years ago. Just a week ago, he was sitting in front of my mom, peeling an apple for her, swearing that she would definitely live to be a hundred. “Forget it, Ethan. What did Ms. Jenkins do wrong? She just doesn’t like me, that’s all.” Harper’s eyes were downcast, pulling on Ethan’s jacket. “I don’t need your hypocrisy here.” I roared, not knowing where the courage came from. Harper looked frightened by me. Her eyes rimmed with red, she shrunk back and hid behind Ethan. “Don’t be scared,” Ethan comforted her softly, then turned and viciously kicked my knee. “What’s with your attitude?” I was forced to my knees on the ground. “Apologize, Sarah. Don’t push me.” Ethan’s jawline was tight, a storm brewing in his eyes. My heart was dead ash. My body didn’t even seem to feel the pain as much anymore. My mom’s illness could only be treated with a specialty drug developed by Ethan’s company. I couldn’t sacrifice my mom’s life for the sake of my dignity. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I beg for Ms. Sterling’s forgiveness.” I lowered my eyes, my voice broken and shattered. 05 Late at night, I lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling. The rain poured heavily outside the window. I heard the sound of the smart lock opening. Shortly after, the sound of the shower running came from the bathroom. I turned around and closed my eyes. The other side of the bed dipped, and I was pulled into a damp, cold embrace. “Does your face still hurt?” His tone was flat. “We already broke up.” I pushed him away calmly. He let out a light laugh: “Still angry? It was just an apology.” I gripped the bedsheets tightly. “Stop messing around, I’m feeling really uncomfortable right now.” His voice was hoarse, burying his head in the crook of my neck. “Why don’t you go find Harper Sterling?” “After all, I’m not married to her yet. It wouldn’t be good to treat her like this.” My heart was dead ash. I weakly let go of my hands, lifeless like a dead fish. Ethan tossed around for a bit. Seeing me completely unresponsive, he rolled over and turned on the light. “Sarah, do you really have to be such a buzzkill?” He lit a cigarette, his cold gaze sweeping over my uncovered body. “I really don’t know what you’re still unsatisfied with?” “If it weren’t for me, could you live such a decent life now?” I clenched the bedsheets, tears silently flowing down the corners of my eyes and into my ears. He forcefully turned my face toward him. After seeing my red, swollen eyes, he froze. His phone on the nightstand suddenly started buzzing. It was Harper calling. “Ethan, it’s thundering. I’m so scared.” He comforted her with a few soft words, then quickly put his clothes back on. He turned to look down at me from above, his voice freezing cold. “Sarah, you need to seriously reflect on yourself. Don’t just cry at the drop of a hat. Crying doesn’t solve any problems.” He was right, crying doesn’t solve any problems. But no one cries to solve a problem. 06 I stood at the door of the hospital room and took several deep breaths before pushing it open. “Whose mom is this pretty?” I teased with a smile. My mom was sitting in bed knitting a scarf. Seeing me come in, she dropped the yarn and waved at me. “Mommy’s baby is here.” Then she pretended to be angry. “Hmph. You haven’t come to see me in days.” I happily threw myself into her arms. “I was just here two days ago. Didn’t the doctor say you need to rest? What are you busy with now?” She took my hand, showing off to me. “Oh, just lying here is so boring. I’m knitting a scarf for you and Ethan.” “Do you think this color is nice? I specifically picked matching colors for couples.” My eyes stung with sourness, my hand slowly brushing over the scarf. “It’s beautiful.” “Baby, what’s wrong?” My mom noticed my mood was off and asked with concern, “Did you have a fight with Ethan?” “No.” I sniffled. “I just feel that having Mom by my side is so nice.” “Silly child.” My mom patted my shoulder gently. “Mom only has one wish in this life, and that is for you to be happy and safe. Mom can’t be with you for your whole life. You still have to walk your future path yourself. Ethan is a man you can trust. When two people are together, there will always be unpleasant times, but as long as you talk it out, it’ll be fine.” “I know, Mom. Don’t worry, Ethan and I… are very good.” I lowered my eyes to hide my emotions. “That’s good.” My mom nodded in relief. “Some other day, when he’s not busy, you should come with him to… cough cough cough…” My mom suddenly started coughing, unable to catch her breath, her mouth full of fresh blood. “Doctor! Doctor!” I frantically pressed the call button. A massive panic swept over me. 07 After emergency resuscitation, my mom was temporarily out of danger. I stopped the attending physician, Dr. Lee. “My mom’s condition has been very stable these past few years. What happened today?” Dr. Lee looked at me with a very difficult expression: “Ms. Jenkins, you should probably go talk to Mr. Cross.” “What do you mean?” “Mr. Cross stopped your mother’s medication. If this happens again, I’m afraid your mother won’t make it. You must hurry.” My heart plummeted to the bottom of my stomach. I frantically dialed Ethan’s number, but it showed that his phone was off. I called over twenty times in a row, but it was all the same result. I knew this was his punishment for me not cooperating last night. He was waiting for me to go beg him. I looked in many places—the company, his house, a private club, the golf course. He wasn’t at any of them. I collapsed helplessly in front of my car. Finally, the butler at the villa couldn’t stand it anymore and told me Ethan’s whereabouts. I rushed to book the next flight to the Bahamas. 08 When Harper Sterling saw me for the first time, her eyes were full of surprise. “Ms. Jenkins? Why are you here?” Ethan, on the other hand, was not surprised at all by my arrival. I cut straight to the chase: “Mr. Cross, my mom, she…” Ethan let out a light tsk, raised his eyebrows, and pulled Harper close by her waist. “I’m busy right now.” I took a deep breath: “Then when will you have time?” “Depends on my mood.” He casually propped his chin on his hand, looking down to coax Harper. “Let’s go watch the sunset, okay?” “I knew you were the best, Ethan.” Harper’s face flushed, and she kissed him shyly. I turned to leave, but Ethan called out to me. “Stand right there. Don’t move.” 09 The night grew deeper. A few stars popped up in the sky. Harper’s coquettish laughter continuously drifted out from the room. I looked down at the hibiscus flowers nearby. There were fewer blooms this year compared to previous years. During the five years I was with Ethan, he would bring me here every winter. The same hotel, the same room. The pool, the lounge chairs, the swings, the sandy beach. Every spot here witnessed the happiness we once shared. He really knew how to find new ways to humiliate me. But it didn’t matter. As long as my mom could live, I would do anything. The door was pushed open from the inside. I looked up, then lowered my eyes again. “Sarah, you really are as spineless as ever.” She smiled and walked up to me, the cigarette butt between her fingers glowing faintly. The terror that had vanished from my heart for so long drilled back into my brain. In a daze, I was back in my high school days. It was a cigarette butt just like this. They brazenly used me as an ashtray. Ash was flicked into my mouth; cigarette butts were pressed against my chest. I was forced into an abandoned art room. Harper said that as long as I crawled like a dog, she wouldn’t go cause trouble at my mom’s food stall. Day after day. For all three years of high school—the years that should have been my brightest—I lived in an endless hell. My knee was suddenly kicked. Harper leaned close to my ear, her voice like a demon’s whisper: “Don’t be afraid. Your life will be even more miserable from now on.” I looked up, staring intently into her eyes, and asked the question I had wanted to ask for a long time. “Why? Why do you hate me so much?” She laughed flamboyantly: “Sarah, you’re still so naive. Hating someone doesn’t require a reason, just like loving someone doesn’t require a reason. I hated you from the first time I saw you. Everything you want to protect, I want to take away, including your mother.” Alarm bells went off in my head. A moment later, Dr. Lee’s call came through. “Ms. Jenkins, your mother needs her medication immediately, or else…” I didn’t have time to hear the rest of the sentence. I swiftly pulled open the room door. “Ethan Cross, come out. I’m begging you, restore my mom’s medication.” He was woken up by me, his eyebrows showing impatience. Then he quickly got up and rushed towards me. A sliver of hope ignited in my heart. But it was quickly extinguished. “Harper, what’s wrong? Sarah, what did you do to her?” He pushed me away angrily and picked up Harper, who was unconscious behind me. I anxiously explained: “I didn’t! She’s faking it! Ethan, I beg you, call the hospital. My mom, if she doesn’t get that medicine, she’ll die.” He snorted coldly: “Sarah, you really will stop at nothing. To get my attention, you’d even curse your own mother to die. Shameless and cheap.” “If anything happens to Harper, I won’t let you off the hook.” He rushed out frantically. I knelt on the floor, pulling on his pant leg. “Everything I’m saying is true. Making a phone call won’t take much time. Ethan, as long as you make the call, even if you want me to use my life to apologize to Harper, I’m willing.” “Get lost.” Ethan kicked me hard in the chest. “It’s truly pathetic that your mother has a daughter like you.”

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I’m the ultimate sidekick to a billionaire heiress. She calls me her “bestie,” swipes her black card to buy me clothes and bags, and I never, ever have to pay when we go shopping. Lately, the heiress has a crush on the campus heartthrob. She told me to go after him. “I know he and I are from different worlds and it would never work out, but it would kill me to see someone else snag him. You go after him, I’m giving him to you.” ??? Emergency! How do I tell her that I literally just slept with her older brother? 01 “Chloe, you’re my absolute best friend. Everyone else just wants my money, but you’re the only one who doesn’t want anything from me.” The heiress, Serena, linked her arm through mine and affectionately rested her head on my shoulder. Hearing her say that… I felt incredibly guilty. Because not only did I want her money, I also wanted her brother. Back in high school, I saw her older brother come to pick her up. His face, his build—he looked better than a runway model. When he looked down and stubbed out his cigarette, that jawline struck me right in the heart! So, I latched onto Serena. She had a ton of fair-weather friends, but after a thorough screening, I was the only one left standing. Being friends with an heiress is honestly amazing. Just by sticking with her, I got chauffeured in luxury cars, had bills paid without a second glance at the price tag, and as a girl from an ordinary, working-class family, I got to experience a completely different lifestyle. I studied my ass off just to get into the same university as her. I simply refused to give up this kind of life. “Chloe, I really, really like Noah,” Serena said, looking anxious and insecure lately. As her loyal minion, I immediately agreed: “He’s totally worth liking! He’s gorgeous, super smart, his only flaw is that his family background is a bit ordinary, like mine.” Honestly, he was just a regular guy from an ordinary family. Noah was incredibly popular on campus. But to a billionaire heiress, he really wasn’t enough. “I know we’re destined not to be together, but it would kill me to see someone else snag him. You go after him, I’m giving him to you.” She stopped walking, as if she had made a firm decision. Then she cupped my face and smiled, poking my dimple: “My Chloe is so pretty, snagging Noah will be a piece of cake!” Seeing her serious expression, I started to panic. Help, Serena, how do I tell you… I just slept with your brother last night… My legs are still jelly… 02 Putting myself in Serena’s shoes for a second, I felt like a total piece of trash. So, I forced a stiff smile: “Ah, Noah isn’t really my type.” “Didn’t you just say he was totally worth liking?” Serena gave me a suspicious look. “That doesn’t feel right. He’s the guy you like, after all…” I squirmed, trying to talk her out of this absurd idea. “So, if he ends up with someone else, I’d be devastated. But if he’s with you, I’ll just feel like my bestie found a great guy, and I’ll be able to let it go…” The more sincere her smile was… The more guilty I felt. I thought for a second, my brain working in overdrive: “Compared to Noah, I actually think your brother is way hotter. Could I try going after your brother instead…” I asked, half-joking, half-serious. She waved her hand dismissively: “Forget it. My brother will definitely end up accepting an arranged marriage set up by our family. My parents are already looking for a fiancée for him. Going after my brother is doomed to fail, just like me and Noah. The gap is too wide.” My head spun for a moment. Actually, I’ve known this would be the outcome for a very long time. I understood this reality, and even comforted myself by thinking I hadn’t lost anything. It was a passionate fling, I got to experience the best, and that was enough. “Let me think about it…” I lowered my head, my voice muffled. “Chloe, trust me, Noah is really worth it. You two are from the same world.” … Right. Ordinary people from the same world. I shouldn’t ask for too much. Sleeping with Liam for this long was already a massive win. “If you really don’t mind, then I’ll go after him.” 03 Liam had been really busy lately. Sometimes he would lower his voice to take calls. His family was probably pressuring him. As his unqualified, secret girlfriend, I didn’t even have the right to step foot in his family’s home. “Good girl, Chloe.” I gathered my emotions, smiled brightly, took the shopping list Serena gave me, and went to buy her things. She sent me Noah’s Snapchat contact. Followed by a “You got this!” sticker. She had a gala to attend that night, a highly exclusive one. I wasn’t qualified to go. After we parted ways, I thought about it. I crouched by the side of the road, drafting a breakup text. I wrote, deleted, and revised a thousand-word essay for a long time, but still couldn’t bring myself to send it. My thrilling, one-year secret romance was finally coming to an end. “What kind of sweet nothings take half an hour to type?” Liam sent a voice memo first, his voice still that magnetic, seductive baritone. I let out a soft sigh. I deleted the essay. I was just a secret lover; what right did I have to initiate a breakup? To people like them, being dumped by someone like me would be an insult. “I missed my hubby.” I chickened out again. I typed a perfunctory reply. I was shameless. I knew Liam could never marry me, but I always called him “hubby.” He wasn’t used to it at first, but later he grew to like it. He was typing. I was faster, sending another message. “Hubby, there’s a bag I really want lately, it’s twenty thousand dollars. I want it… purr purr~” I attached a sticker of a cute kitten aggressively nuzzling its owner. Being with Liam, I never lacked for money. He gave me even more than Serena did. 04 But this was the first time I explicitly asked for a bag. We had just slept together last night, and during the day I’m asking for a twenty-thousand-dollar bag. No matter how you look at it, I seem like a gold digger only after his money. To my surprise, he transferred the money without hesitation. “Go spend it.” Looking at the twenty thousand, tears immediately fell from my eyes. Maybe in Liam’s eyes, this was our ideal dynamic. I was just a woman trying to get money out of him. This was also the most comfortable arrangement for him. If I kept clinging to him demanding love, that would be ridiculous. I cried for a bit. Then I picked up my phone and typed again. “Hubby is so generous. Can hubby buy me an apartment? In the Upper East Side, I want to live there.” “How much.” He replied incredibly fast. I looked up the housing prices in that area and gasped. Ten million, starting. “Nine million.” I let out a scoff, ultimately not typing “one hundred million.” I could already picture him frowning at the message, confirming that I truly was a gold digger. “I’ll have Mark take you there tomorrow to handle the paperwork.” ??? I shot up from my crouch. Are you kidding me, bro?! This didn’t even make you mad? My mind was a chaotic mess. I simply turned off my phone, refusing to think about it anymore. The next day, Serena asked me how my progress was. Only then did I realize Noah hadn’t even added me back. “Progress: -1.” “?” “He hasn’t added me back.” “Ugh, he’s just like that. It took him five hours to add me back too.” I patiently chatted with her for a long time. Serena had a hangover from last night, a perfect opportunity for me to show my worth and offer some warmth. But thinking about Liam made me inexplicably sad. That afternoon, just as I walked out of the library, Mark called. He said the paperwork was ready and told me to come sign it. 05 Is this for real? I braced myself and got into the car. The mocking I expected didn’t happen. Mark respectfully brought me to the sales office. Into the VIP Client Manager’s office. “I’m really signing this?” I really wanted to ask. We were already here. Wasn’t he going to furiously mock me for being a gold digger? Mark, looking perplexed, pushed the contract towards me: “Although Mr. Sterling had his eye on a different building, he said this one is closer to you, making it more convenient.” I glanced at the contract. My name. I sighed and put down the pen: “I’m sorry, I don’t want it anymore.” Mark looked completely bewildered. The Client Manager looked like she had been struck by lightning. “Ma’am, if you have any concerns, please let me know. I will do my absolute best to resolve any issues perfectly.” The money could be refunded. But a house… that was too messy a tie. What was Liam thinking, actually agreeing to buy a house? I ended up running away. Accepting a house while dating and not being able to return it after a breakup was too much of a hassle. “You don’t like it?” Liam called. His voice had that same magnetic, intoxicating calm. “I don’t like it. Liam, I’ve thought about it. Let’s break up. You don’t like me anymore anyway.” 06 What was I hesitating for? With these rich playboys, the messier the breakup, the more they hate you. If they don’t hate you, it’s even simpler. Just talk money, break up, and they find someone else. After I said that, the phone was silent for a long time. I pulled it away from my ear and glanced at it; the call timer was still running. So I hung up with a click. Then blocked and deleted his number in one smooth motion. I tried to look relaxed as I returned to my dorm. Serena predictably texted, urging me on. Feeling helpless, I tapped on Noah’s Snapchat. Wait, contact cards require you to click ‘Add Friend’? This time, when I sent the request, the other side accepted instantly. Then a “Hello” sticker flashed across the screen. I was feeling pretty down at the moment. With a wicked sense of humor, I replied with a dozen dramatic meme stickers, stringing them together to say: “See this flower? I’d rather throw it away than give it to you…” After sending them, I stared blankly at my phone. According to Serena’s demands, to go after Noah… I should be sweet-talking him. But I just didn’t have the energy. I wanted to cry so badly, but I held it in. “That’s okay, where did you throw it?” “I’ll go pick it up.” Noah sent a voice message. 07 As the campus heartthrob, Noah’s voice had a boyish quality—a lazy, clear, sunny tone. Completely different from Liam’s deep, magnetic, mature voice. And that sentence he just said was undeniably flirtatious. The key point being, he didn’t even know who I was. Based purely on my avatar—a dark, edgy little black rabbit. There was absolutely nothing flirtatious about it. …So this guy really wasn’t picky at all. Flirting with anyone who came his way. A true “cast a wide net” kind of guy. The guy Serena liked turned out to be just like this. “Did he accept? Send me a screenshot.” Serena texted. 08 I was too embarrassed to screenshot my own meme spam, afraid she would scold me. When I sent the screenshot, she asked, completely confused: “Noah actually sends meme stickers? And he initiated it? Babe, I’m shipping this so hard.” If you heard the voice message, you’d ship it even harder. I wanted to block and delete Noah too, but I held back. After breaking up with Liam, I basically stopped going out. Every day, I just shuttled between three places. If I wasn’t studying, I was eating or sleeping. I didn’t even have the energy to cater to Serena. “Chloe, go to The Lumière Room tonight. I have a party later, wait for me in the lobby. It’ll be too late to get a car. You have to come.” Serena issued a command. It was an absolute order. Since I was no longer with Liam, I figured I shouldn’t continue being Serena’s minion. What if I ran into Liam? I’d be exposed. Serena’s revenge would likely be terrifying. I didn’t want to go. But she didn’t give me a chance to refuse. “Oh right, Chloe. Noah doesn’t seem to be poor. I just saw him appear next to Mr. Vanderbilt. I think he’s Mr. Vanderbilt’s grandson? Look into his background for me. Don’t go after him for now.” Serena called. Her tone was very excited. I sighed in relief. Finally, I was off the hook from this ridiculous pursuit. I quickly nodded: “Should I delete him then? Honestly, I always thought you two were a match made in heaven. Now that you’re from the same world, isn’t that even better? That’s amazing.” “Then delete him, Chloe. I know you don’t like him anyway, so we won’t force it.” Serena smiled. “Oh, screen record yourself blocking and deleting him for me. I want to know you truly don’t care.” “Okay.” I had been too dismissive the past couple of days. Now that Serena was hungover and dizzy, it was originally a great opportunity for me to show my worth and provide some comfort. But thinking of Liam made me inexplicably sad. I hung up the phone, started screen recording, blocked and deleted Noah. Then I sent the screenshot of my blocked list to her to check. I suddenly had a bad feeling. I checked my phone, and the feeling grew stronger! Holy shit! I told you I forgot something! 09

During my senior year of high school, my parents cut off all my financial support to force me to drop out. With nowhere else to go, I managed to enroll in an elite, tuition-free private prep school full of insanely wealthy kids. The catch? I still needed money for food. After starving for half a month, wearing my most threadbare clothes, I finally mustered the courage. I looked at the class of trust-fund babies who never studied: “Does anyone… does anyone need their homework done? One assignment… just five dollars.” The kids, who had been busy flexing their wealth, stopped messing around and stared at me in shock. A moment later, a cacophony of voices erupted: “Five dollars? Who do you think you’re insulting? Five hundred! Do mine first!” “I bid five thousand! Put me first in line!” “Fifty thousand! In cash!” “Name your price! I want to see who dares outbid me today!” 01 I was kicked out of my house right at the beginning of my senior year. My dad, his face twisted in anger, pointed a finger right at my nose and yelled: “Other girls your age are already working and bringing money home. But you? You just drain my wallet all day long. You’re nothing but a money pit.” My mom chimed in with her usual “practical” advice: “If you don’t start working now, where are we going to get the money for your brother’s college tuition later?” After screaming myself hoarse while clutching my stack of academic awards, I realized arguing was pointless. I ran away from that house. My dad’s voice chased after me, mocking: “Let’s see how you make it to college without us supporting you!” I took my transcripts and bounced around several public high schools. The response was always the same: “Your grades are good, but who knows if they’ll drop during senior year?” “We can only offer a tuition waiver.” That wasn’t enough. I needed to eat. Clutching my last shred of hope, I stood in front of St. Jude’s Preparatory Academy. This place was exclusively for the children of the ultra-rich. Trust-fund babies everywhere. Every day, if they weren’t fighting, they were showing off their wealth. Nobody studied. In their world, the SATs were just a formality. They were all going to expensive private colleges or studying abroad anyway. When I stood timidly in the principal’s office, wearing clothes washed so many times the hems were frayed, the Dean of Students looked down her nose at me: “Are you sure you want to be here? Aren’t you afraid of being bullied?” I shook my head vigorously: “As long as you can waive my tuition and give me a tiny bit of a stipend… ” “Really, just a tiny bit… Three hundred, no, just a hundred dollars a month is fine. I promise to study hard and bring honor to the school with my test scores.” The Dean agreed. I took the $10,000 scholarship advance, thanked her profusely, and backed out of the room. The moment I stepped out the door, I heard her scoff in disgust: “A hundred bucks a month? Who is she trying to insult?” 02 I successfully took my place in the classroom. The noisy chatter of the rich kids paused, and they all examined me with curious eyes. “What is she wearing? Why are there holes in it? Did Louis Vuitton release a new ‘war-torn’ collection?” “Why not Chanel?” “The fabric is actually holding together despite being so worn. It can’t be a designer brand. Only cheap flea market clothes have that kind of durability.” “Oh, you know so much about it. Have you worn them?” “How dare you accuse me of wearing flea market trash! You’re dead! I’ll have my dad pull his investments from your family’s company tomorrow…” Two rich kids started brawling on the floor. I kept my composure, walked past them, and headed to my seat. It was located in the back corner of the classroom, right next to the trash can. I blocked out all the gossip and whispers. No matter how nasty their words were, I had heard worse from my own parents. What did the mockery of a bunch of spoiled rich kids matter? Now, I had a place to study and the right to take my college entrance exams. No one in the class bullied me. During passing periods, a pretty girl even ran over to my desk, looking at me like I was a novelty. Then she asked curiously: “Chloe, why are you wearing such torn clothes? Do you not like this season’s haute couture?” “Is it possible that I just can’t afford haute couture?” “Why can’t you afford it? Did your parents cut off your allowance? You can still draw from your trust fund, right?” I sighed softly. What’s a trust fund? Serena rested her chin on her hands and looked at me: “How did you get to school today?” “I walked. I woke up really early.” “Why didn’t you have your driver take you?” “I don’t have a car or a driver.” “Why didn’t you ride your motorcycle?” “I don’t have a motorcycle either.” “Oh, I get it. You only like taking helicopters, and your helicopter broke down this morning, so you couldn’t fly it, right?” I hid my face behind my book. Never mind, there was no way to explain it to her. 03 Two weeks into the semester, I was practically invisible. Every day, I shrank into the corner of the classroom, working hard on practice tests and studying. Gradually, the teachers began to appreciate me more and more. Because I was the only person in class actually paying attention. Not only did I listen carefully, but I also occasionally raised my hand to answer their questions so they wouldn’t feel awkward talking to a silent room. But my concentration was slipping more and more. I was starving. So hungry I wanted to gnaw on the desk. Although my tuition was fully covered, I still needed a place to live. The Dean had strictly refused to let me live in the dorms, saying my background was too poor and the rich kids wouldn’t accept it. I had no choice but to rent a place off-campus. Rent was unbelievably expensive. After begging and pleading, the landlord reluctantly agreed to take six months’ rent upfront. My $10,000 scholarship instantly shrank to $500. In a city where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold, I could only afford a tiny attic in a remote suburb. After paying $500 for utilities, I was broke. With my current grades, I couldn’t guarantee getting into an Ivy League school, so I didn’t dare ask the Dean for another advance on my scholarship. Because of my terrible living situation, my study time was compressed to almost nothing. Despite my desperate efforts to catch up, my scores on the last junior year finals were only good enough for a decent state university. I didn’t miraculously transform into a protagonist from a teen movie, easily getting a perfect score while juggling a romance and barely studying. My stomach hadn’t seen food in over eight hours. My breakfast today had been a piece of seared steak and half a tuna sandwich I dug out of the school trash can. It was delicious, but the portion was tiny. I pursed my lips and looked up at my classmates, who were getting ready to leave for the day. They were discussing where to play golf or whether to take a yacht out for a party. I pinched myself hard, gathered every ounce of courage I had, and asked timidly: “Does anyone… does anyone need their homework done? One assignment… just five dollars.” 04 I had never seen these rich kids write an essay or do a worksheet. Every time the teacher assigned homework, I was the only one who carefully wrote it down, then went back to my sweltering rental and diligently finished it under a salvaged desk lamp. After I asked my question. The rich kids, who had been busy flexing their wealth, stopped messing around and stared at me in shock. Serena’s voice rang out in disbelief: “Class President, you actually do the homework?” Ever since I received high praise from all the teachers, I had been promoted to Class President. Consequently, all the classroom cleaning duties fell on my shoulders. My voice was as small as a mosquito’s hum: “Yes. I write fast and well, and my accuracy is high. If you guys are looking for someone to do your homework, you can consider me first.” “I don’t charge much. Just five dollars an assignment. Buy five, get one free.” Considering they all came from business families, and I had overheard a lot, I quickly added: “Prices are negotiable.” Shock cracked across everyone’s faces. A moment later, they reacted, and a cacophony of voices erupted: “Five dollars? Who do you think you’re insulting? Five hundred! Do mine first! Let my dad open his eyes and see that his son is a student who loves learning.” “You have the nerve to say five hundred? I bid five thousand! Put me first in line!” “Fifty thousand! In cash! The one thing I’m not short on is money!” “Name your price! I want to see who dares outbid me today!” 05 The classroom descended into chaos. Their bids got more and more ridiculous. As if what I was writing wasn’t homework, but an original Shakespeare manuscript. I quickly waved my hands to stop them: “Just five dollars. I can’t take more. If you want me to write it, I’ll go one by one in the order you agreed to.” “It’s all STEM subjects anyway, it goes fast.” In business, a steady stream is better than a quick flood. I was afraid that if I took too much, their parents would find out, and that would be bad. After all, when I did homework for money in my freshman year, I took a rush order for six dollars, and the classmate’s parents checked their bank statements and found out. The next day, they blocked my door and cursed me out for a long time. The shouting continued, but Serena snatched the first spot. She smugly Venmo’d me twenty dollars. My secondhand phone lagged for a long time before the transfer finally went through. Staring at the twenty-dollar balance, I excitedly promised her: “Don’t worry, Ms. Serena. I promise to write your homework beautifully tonight.” That day, I made one hundred dollars. I took five orders. I stayed up until 1 AM doing homework. To guarantee quality, I never took on too much. The next day after school, looking at the fresh hundred dollars in my account, I was just about to shoulder the Chanel backpack I had fished out of the trash and rush home. The richest, most hot-tempered girl in the class blocked my path. She touched her diamond-encrusted manicure, pouted her lips at her two lackeys, and ordered: “Drag her to the bathroom for me!” 06 Even the bathrooms at St. Jude’s Preparatory Academy were brighter and more spacious than my suburban attic. But my forehead was dripping with cold sweat. Everyone had gone home; rarely anyone came to the bathroom now. Was she going to bully me? But I didn’t know how I had offended her. Since transferring to this school, I had been the most invisible existence. Every day, I tried my best to minimize my presence to avoid drawing their attention. Even when they flaunted their wealth in front of me, I would stare at the dizzying array of logos and quickly blurt out how beautiful they were, and how expensive they must have been. Then they would say with satisfaction: “It’s not expensive. Only a country bumpkin like you would think it’s expensive. This bag isn’t even a million dollars.” The money I made writing one assignment couldn’t even buy a single thread on those bags. Blair Waldorf—no, Blair Stanton—smiled sinisterly, reaching out to lift my chin: “You’re the Class President…” She dragged out her words. My heart pounded like a drum. I frantically recalled the past month and a half since I transferred. I hadn’t had any conflicts with Blair. Every time she showed off her wealth, I made sure to look envious and offer a few compliments. Last night, I took her five dollars and handed in the homework on time. No delays. The fiancé her family arranged for her was also in our class. The only thing I had ever said to him was: “Excuse me, Blair asked me to tell you that she’s waiting for you downstairs to take the yacht out.” I truly couldn’t think of how I had offended her. Her two friends gripping my arms held me tight; I couldn’t move. I thought to myself: If worst comes to worst, I’ll just drink some toilet water and beg for mercy until she cools down. As long as I can stay here and keep studying. Blair unhurriedly took out her phone, her manicure tapping the screen, making a chilling click-clack sound. Her crisp voice sounded above my head: “In a minute, remember what you should and shouldn’t say!” 07 To my absolute terror, she made a phone call. An authoritative middle-aged man’s voice came through: “Blair, sweetie, what’s wrong?” “Daddy, I really did my homework yesterday! My fingers still hurt! If you don’t believe me, ask our Class President. She’s aiming for a perfect SAT score, you know.” After saying that, she shoved the phone in my face. At the same time, she gave me a vicious glare. I swallowed hard. “Hello, sir. I’m Chloe, the… the Class President. Um… Blair really did her own homework.” “Is that so? When did she do it?” My brain went into overdrive. Yesterday, Blair went out on a yacht. There were definitely no witnesses out on the ocean. “Sir, yesterday after school, Blair said she wanted to study hard, so she stayed at school to do her homework.” Blair finally nodded in satisfaction: “Hear that, Daddy? I really did my homework.” “Haha, that’s my girl. Finally focusing on her studies! From now on, I’ll give you an extra million dollars a month in allowance as a reward!” Blair hung up the phone triumphantly. “You’re smart. I’m the only daughter of the Stanton Group. My dad only has me. He doesn’t have any illegitimate children, so the Stanton family is mine for the taking.” “From now on, you will do my homework every day. Don’t worry, I won’t treat you badly.” “But if you dare cross me, watch your back!” I nodded like a chicken pecking at grain. The two pairs of hands holding me let go, and Blair strutted away in her stilettos. Once she was out of sight, I finally dared to pick up my backpack from the floor and hurried home, still shaken. Because of the delay, by the time I navigated my way home, the sky was already turning dark. I was thinking about the homework I had to do tonight, walking very fast. Just as I stepped into my rundown apartment building, two figures seemed to have been waiting downstairs for a long time. My dad’s chilling voice rang out: “You ran away for a month, and I finally found where you were hiding!” 08 My legs felt like lead, so heavy I could barely take a step. The memories of those days when he beat me flashed before my eyes one by one. He stepped forward, snatched my backpack, and slapped me hard across the face. I was thrown several feet away. My dad cursed aggressively: “You think you’re so smart, running a hundred miles away to secretly go to school.” “I raised you, you ate my food, spent my money. You haven’t brought a single penny home, and you dare run away?” “I’ve already accepted the bride price, thirty-eight thousand eight hundred. Just waiting for you to go back and get engaged.” “Today, you’re coming home with me whether you want to or not.” In the stifling early autumn heat, I could even feel his spit hitting my face. Only then did I notice a beat-up van parked next to the apartment complex. Dilapidated, the windows completely covered. My dad waved his hand impatiently: “Hurry up, drag her into the van, we still have to hit the road!” A few people rushed out of the van. I looked closely. They were relatives of mine. Even though my family wasn’t exactly starving, my dad strongly opposed me studying. Especially after my younger brother failed to get into a good high school last year, and my dad went broke sending him to a private school, it only fueled his determination to make me drop out. I didn’t have any friends here. The only people I knew were my classmates. Watching them get closer and closer, I quickly pulled out my phone. It was the one Blair had tossed to me that afternoon. It was her old, latest-model phone. She said it was a reward for me knowing my place. The phone was smooth and fast. I quickly opened the class group chat, where everyone was chatting excitedly. “Yachts are boring. It’s always the same thing, so dull.” “Look at my new complete set of action figures. I spent over three million on this. [Image.jpg]” “I heard the Stanton heiress got an allowance bump. Are we renting out the golf course tomorrow?” “Let’s go horseback riding instead. My little pony hasn’t seen me in days, he must miss me.” Amidst the chatter. I inappropriately sent a voice message, my voice filled with tears and panic: “It’s Chloe. My dad is forcing me to drop out and go home to get married. My phone has GPS. Please, please come save me.”

In high school, there was a rich kid in our class. Filthy rich. He was always treating everyone. Fried chicken every three days, burgers every five. The year he was most generous, he lost a bet and casually handed ten grand to a random girl on the street. I relied on that money to finish high school and get into college. Only later did I find out that the “rich kid” persona was fake, and losing the bet was a lie too. All there was, was a teenage boy’s awkward, hidden, and unspoken crush. Four years later, his family went bankrupt, and he was living on the streets. I crouched in front of him and held out my hand: “Hey, wanna come with me?” 01 I have a notebook hidden in the deepest corner of my desk. It records all my wishes, big and small. The earliest one was: “I don’t want to be beaten with a stick anymore.” So, when I was ten, my mother resolutely filed for divorce. She took me and fled from my abusive father, escaping that small, backwoods town where I would have been sold off for a bride price by the time I was fifteen. My mother made that wish come true. The second one was: “I want to go to school.” From then on, my mother worked three jobs a day—washing dishes during the day, running a street stall at night. She begged people to get my residency sorted out and sent me to school. In my young eyes, my mother was omnipotent; there was nothing she couldn’t do. “I want a scarf that doesn’t pill.” “A two-dollar duck hair clip.” “Gloves that actually keep my hands warm.” I continued to write down my wishes in my childish handwriting. Until the twenty-eighth one: “I want to eat a delicious birthday cake with Mom.” My omnipotent mother didn’t make this wish come true. She suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage on the way to buy the cake and was rushed to the ER. I borrowed a lot of money, prayed to every god, and cried until the world spun, but it was all useless. When I was fifteen, I lost my last remaining family member. 02 That notebook was sealed away for a year. When I opened it again, I was already a junior in high school. The wishes in the notebook gradually became more trivial and frequent: “To finish all my worksheets before 10 PM.” “To rank in the top five in the grade on the day after tomorrow’s midterm.” “To find another part-time job at night to pay next semester’s tuition.” Left all alone, I started fulfilling my own wishes. But occasionally, a little random thought would pop out in the notebook: “My desk mate ordered Popeyes for lunch again. What does it taste like? It smells so good. Is it delicious?” “A friend invited me to see a movie tonight. It’s supposed to be the kind I like, but the tickets are too expensive.” “I want to adopt a kitten. Never mind, I couldn’t take good care of it.” Financially strapped, having to budget carefully even for meals, these wishes were too luxurious for me. Later, a rich kid transferred from the class next door. His name was Liam. The first time we met, he treated the whole class to Popeyes. A week later, with a wave of his hand, he rented out an entire movie theater for the class. The class cheered, hailing him as the biggest baller in the whole school. Behind his back, though, they mocked him for having more money than sense and trying to show off. Those ignored, random wishes were quietly being fulfilled just like that. In my heart, I gave Liam a nickname: The Genie. Liam the Genie. And I was the impoverished Aladdin. Only, my Genie was exceptionally generous, exceptionally giving. The pizza place I had walked past several times but couldn’t bear to go into? He treated the whole class to it every few days. My Genie seemed to have no three-wish limit. Every wish in my notebook was meticulously fulfilled by him. In the summer, he bought ice cream; in the winter, he brought hot cocoa. I learned what those heavily advertised fast-food chains tasted like. I was able to join the crowd when classmates talked about the most popular movies. Even the bitter cold that terrified me—he personally gifted me a down jacket. That was my most dignified winter. My ears didn’t get frostbite, and my fingers didn’t get chilblains. Near the end of my junior year, I wrote out a withdrawal application. The people I borrowed the three thousand dollars from for my mother’s medical bills were showing up at my door every day, hounding me until I was physically and mentally exhausted. I packed my bags, ready to head south to work in a factory. The day before I left, I ran into Liam. He had lost a bet and had to give the first girl who walked by ten thousand dollars. And I was that girl. He shoved the money at me without a word: “Hey, don’t make me break my promise. It’s just a little money, not even enough for you to buy a new outfit.” The crumbs that fall through the fingers of the rich are enough for the poor to work a lifetime for. I used that money to pay off the debt, finished high school, and got into college. In my plain and simple value system: Aladdin’s Genie was omnipotent. Liam was also omnipotent. 03 So, when I heard that Liam had been kicked out by his family and was living on the streets… I was stunned for a long time. By this time, I had already graduated from college. Using the money I saved from working, I opened a small diner. Messages flooded the class group chat: “I heard his family went bankrupt. His dad took all the money and ran off with his mistress, leaving him all alone.” “He was originally abroad, but he just dropped out and was sent back. I don’t think he even got his degree.” “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Remember how rich he was in high school? Now he doesn’t even have a place to live. What goes around comes around.” When I found Liam, he was sitting on a park bench, staring blankly into the distance. The person in front of me was a little different from my memory. His features, always proud and sharp, were slightly lowered now, revealing an inexplicable calmness. I slowed my pace, hesitating whether to go over. He had already sharply lifted his head. After four years apart, we faced each other in this quiet, secluded park, bathed in the setting sun. I wasn’t sure if Liam recognized me. Probably not. After all, our interactions during those high school years were few and far between. We weren’t friends; we couldn’t even be called close classmates. Liam’s life was so colorful; it would be hard for him to remember someone as ordinary and mediocre as me. Sure enough, he looked at me, his expression unchanging: “Can I help you?” I pointed to the flyer in his hand: “Excuse me, that’s a flyer for my diner. We’re hiring.” “I saw you looking at it. Are you… looking to apply?” 04 Even after bringing Liam back to the diner, it still felt surreal. He stood a short distance away from me, his gaze sweeping over the storefront, his tone cold: “Where will I live?” Not long ago, when I said that, Liam looked at me very strangely. “Four thousand a month, benefits included, eight-hour shifts, two days off a week.” It wasn’t until I said room and board were included that his expression changed, and he agreed. The four thousand dollars that once barely covered a meal for him was now buying a month of his time. Maybe, like the group chat said, he really had nowhere else to go. I took over this diner from a friend. We sell chicken tenders and fried chicken cutlets. The location is good, and business isn’t bad. The first floor is for business, the second floor is for living. There’s one room for me, and one for storage. I cleared out the storage room, considering whether I should go buy a bed later. And I also needed to buy sheets, a toothbrush, a towel… Liam strolled over from behind me and helped me take a box. I said casually: “Just put it in my room, it’s just some toilet paper, laundry detergent…” Only after Liam had taken two steps did I suddenly realize and hurriedly tried to stop him: “Wait a minute.” But it was too late. Liam had already pushed open the bedroom door. The room was small; you could take it all in with one glance. When Liam looked up, he saw the desk by the window. He paused. His gaze swept over the photo displayed on it. He turned back and asked me: “Just put it next to the desk?” My nervous heart slowly relaxed: “Yeah.” Liam probably didn’t recognize me. After all, this photo was an accident. When we graduated, the school hired a photographer to take pictures for us. You could take solo shots, or take pictures with friends. When Liam was taking his picture, I happened to be standing nearby, spacing out. Startled by the photographer’s shout, I turned my head in confusion. And thus, this unexpected photo was born. When the photographer developed the photos, he probably thought we had planned it that way. So he printed a copy for me too. I brought this photo with me to college, and after graduating, I brought it to the diner. I found a frame for it and carefully placed it on my desk. The Liam back then was a blond, with arrogant bleached hair, his bangs too long, covering half an eye. Wearing a skull t-shirt and ripped jeans, even though he was good-looking, he couldn’t hide that era’s emo/scene kid vibe. Now, he had short, neat black hair, and simple, clean clothes. The difference was too huge. So it was perfectly normal that he didn’t recognize me. 05 After getting the room sorted, I took Liam out to eat. But his appetite was low; he took two bites and put down his chopsticks. It’s understandable. With that kind of family tragedy, it’s normal to be in a bad mood. But it went on like this for several days, and he was visibly thinner than when he first arrived. I was getting a bit anxious, so I dragged him to a steakhouse. It was about a hundred dollars a person. I ordered him a steak and a salad. Liam took two bites and suddenly said: “I’ve been here before.” I paused, surprised he remembered. Back then, everyone laughed at him for having more money than sense, but after being treated so much, they eventually felt embarrassed. So, many people started taking the initiative to invite Liam out to eat after school. I mixed in with the crowd. On the day I got my paycheck from my part-time job, I carefully chose this steakhouse. I didn’t expect him to accept my invitation. He always had an aloof personality. Annoyed by everyone asking, he closed his eyes and randomly pointed at someone: “You then. Just one meal. The rest of you, stop bothering me.” I was the lucky winner. Liam ate that steak clean. He reviewed it: “The chef here is pretty good. It tastes no different from what I usually eat. I like it a lot.” That compliment made me let out a smile I couldn’t hold back. Aladdin was able to buy the Genie a meal. Aladdin was very happy. So, seeing Liam’s current low spirits, I naturally thought of this restaurant. It was as if time had rewinded, bridging a four-year gap. The same seat, the same person. Liam seemed to have a better appetite, just like four years ago. He finished the steak and salad completely: “It’s very good. I like it a lot.” I smiled, just about to get up to pay the bill. When suddenly, Liam spoke from behind me: “You know me, and you know who I am.” His tone was calm, yet decisive: “The photo frame on the desk… the person in it is you, isn’t it?” 06 That night, the class group chat was already buzzing: “You say Liam’s family went bankrupt. So is his engagement to Sarah still on?” “Definitely not. Before, they were a match made in heaven. Now, it’s just a poor boy lusting after a rich girl. Only an idiot would stay together.” “Sorry, you guys are really wrong this time. The rich girl is truly deeply in love. Even though Liam is broke, she’s not abandoning him. She’s currently adding people as friends asking for his whereabouts.” Sure enough, there was a new friend request on my list, exactly from Sarah. I was hesitating whether to accept it when there was a soft knock on my door. “I’m out of shampoo.” Liam’s hair was half-wet, leaning against the doorframe looking at me. That meal not long ago had ripped away our facade of acting like nothing happened. Liam recognized the photo, and he recognized me. Thankfully, he didn’t say much else, nor did he ask me why I kept our photo on my desk. Right now, water droplets were falling from Liam’s brow. His dark eyes watched me quietly, displaying a strange kind of docility. I didn’t dare to meet his gaze. I handed over the toiletries I had bought. “I forgot to give this to you earlier. Body wash and everything else is in here too.” I was still feeling uneasy about Sarah’s friend request. Suddenly, a sharp snap echoed in my ear. Liam had snapped his fingers. When I looked up in confusion, I saw him holding open the bag, revealing what was inside. Since we met again, he had always been aloof and silent. But now, his voice unexpectedly carried a hint of a smile: “Boss, you even provide your employees with Kérastase shampoo?” 07 In my heart, Liam is different from me. This difference is hard to describe in words. If I had to, it’s… I can eat cheap street food; he can’t. I can wear a nine-dollar t-shirt; he can’t. But this reasoning was too bizarre to explain, so I told a lie: “I usually use this brand, so I just bought it together.” But as soon as I said it, I regretted it. Because Liam had helped me move boxes before and definitely saw what was inside. A pile of bright green Pantene bottles easily exposed my lie. But Liam wasn’t the type to embarrass people. He just said “hmm,” easily accepting my explanation. Just like in my junior year, when I stained my pants during my period and was mocked by a male classmate. He suddenly stood up and beat the guy up. When making a public apology in front of the whole school at the flagpole, he just said casually: “I didn’t like the way he looked. He was being too loud while I was trying to sleep.” Everyone’s attention was diverted by Liam, so no one noticed the slap I gave that male classmate. Genie, oh Genie, the most subtle Genie in the world. Liam took a few steps, then turned back: “The noodle place across the street is really good, the t-shirts from the wholesale market next door are great quality, and Irish Spring soap smells really nice.” I didn’t understand what he meant and looked up in confusion. “Just a little bit.” Liam held up his thumb and index finger, making a gesture: “Just a little bit is enough to keep me alive.” So he didn’t need a steakhouse that costs hundreds a person, and he didn’t need shampoo that costs thirty or forty dollars a bottle. After our reunion, Liam called out my name for the first time, his eyes curving into a smile: “Chloe, I’m very easy to take care of.” 08 I didn’t expect Sarah to show up directly at my diner. The first time she laid eyes on Liam, she practically threw herself at him: “Why didn’t you answer my calls? I’ve been looking for you for so long.” Her eyes were red. A pretty girl crying is very endearing. Sure enough, Liam raised his hands and placed them on her shoulders, a posture suitable for an embrace. But the next second, he forcefully pushed Sarah away. “Don’t touch me.” Sarah froze, her eyes getting even redder: “Are you still blaming me? I’ve already convinced my mom. Just hold on for another month, I can definitely convince my dad too. Our engagement still stands.” “There is no engagement. I never agreed to it.” Liam cut off Sarah’s words, his voice very cold: “That was a unilateral decision by our parents, their own wishful thinking.” After being chased away, Sarah came back several more times. Liam never gave her a good look. The most serious time, he called the police: “If you want to get married, go to a dating site. Harass me one more time, and I’ll call the cops again.” “Stop coming to find me. It’s very annoying and severely affects my life.” Even from an outsider’s perspective, these words were incredibly ruthless. Sure enough, Sarah ran off crying and didn’t come back for a week. Messages flooded the class group chat: “Tsk, the rich girl bravely pursues love, only to be rejected. It breaks my heart to see her cry. How could Liam bear it?” “Love without material backing is just loose sand. Liam can’t even support himself right now, how can he support her? He can’t even buy her a bag. Is he supposed to make the rich girl suffer with him?” “There’s a kind of love called letting go. I get it. I broke up with my ex because of the huge gap in our family backgrounds too. Actually, I still think about her, but, sigh, dreams can’t beat reality.” I don’t know who pulled Sarah into the group chat. She sent a crying emoji: “I know he just doesn’t want to drag me down, but I really don’t care. As long as I can be with him, even if we live in a tiny apartment, it doesn’t matter. True love can conquer anything.” Such words resonated with many people. It was like a novel plot coming to life—the trope of the rich, beautiful girl bravely pursuing love never gets old. I exited the group chat. Liam was frying chicken cutlets. Two girls, blushing, pushing each other forward, came up to ask for his number. “I have a girlfriend, sorry.” Liam handed the chicken cutlets to them. His outstanding appearance, tall figure, and cold voice. Even wearing an apron, he looked completely out of place in this narrow, mediocre chicken cutlet shop. So even that sentence seemed like an excuse used to brush them off.

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At twenty-seven, my family started pressuring me to get married. I initiated a clean, cliff-drop breakup with the boyfriend I had been chasing and coddling for three years, and headed back to my hometown for blind dates. My friend asked me, “Are you really over Liam? You liked him so much.” I let out a scoff. “I’m not stupid. A guy like him is fine for a casual fling, but if I actually married him, wouldn’t I be miserable for the rest of my life?” Suddenly, a dark, familiar voice came from right behind me. “Oh, so is that your excuse for dumping me?” 01 When I dragged my suitcase home, I bumped right into a girl opening my front door to leave. She was wearing a loose black sweater that slipped off one shoulder to reveal delicate collarbones, an oversized-shirt-as-a-dress look, and a pair of Yves Saint Laurent stiletto heels. I recognized her. Her name was Chloe, the bassist in Liam’s band. A pretty girl in her early twenties. Instinctively, I stopped behind the hallway door, staying out of sight. A moment later, Liam walked out from behind her, wearing only a pair of jeans, leaning lazily against the wall to light a cigarette. He was shirtless, water still dripping down the sharp v-lines of his lower abs. After a few seconds, he casually tossed a Chanel handbag her way. “Take it.” Chloe’s eyes lit up. She turned and threw herself at Liam, squealing: “Ah! I’ve wanted this bag for so long! Where did you get it?” “Picked it up on a trip to New York.” “I love it so much, thank you, baby!” Chloe wanted to linger, but Liam was already getting impatient, his brow furrowing slightly. “Alright, hurry up and go.” The girl slid off him, half-pouting, half-flirting: “You’re so ruthless. Calling me ‘baby’ a second ago, and now kicking me out just like that.” But she wasn’t actually mad. She happily slung the bag over her shoulder and blew Liam a kiss: “I’m going. See you tomorrow.” After she left, I stepped out from behind the door. Liam clearly didn’t expect me to come back so suddenly. He froze for a second, but his expression instantly returned to normal. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” I stared at him for a moment. “It was too late. I didn’t want to wake you.” The hickeys on Liam’s neck were still fresh, but he didn’t look guilty at all. He pulled me into his arms and led me into the apartment. “I’m starving, make us something to eat.” He sat on the couch and turned on the TV, acting as if absolutely nothing had just happened. Seeing that I hadn’t moved for a while, he frowned: “What’s wrong?” Then, as if realization dawned on him, a lazy, arrogant smile floated into his eyes: “Missed me?” He got up, walked over, and hugged me from behind. His hot breath hovered ambiguously over my neck, and his hand slowly slipped under the hem of my shirt. “Then let’s eat you first, and dinner later—” Years of playing the guitar had left rough calluses on his fingertips, bringing a prickly, itchy sensation as they scraped across my skin. I closed my eyes, exhausted, and pushed his hands away. I really liked Liam’s body. The main reason I pursued him back then was because he was so incredibly hot. But maybe it was because I just got off a long flight, or maybe it was because of the girl who just left. Right now, I only felt tired. I wasn’t in the mood at all. Liam was rarely rejected by me. He paused, his face darkening slightly. “What’s the matter?” I looked down at a crumpled black mass on the rug. It was a pair of severely torn pantyhose. Liam clearly saw the pantyhose too. He clicked his tongue, his expression turning ugly. The living room fell into an agonizing silence. He pulled a cigarette from its pack and lit it. The crisp pop of the menthol bead being crushed echoed in the quiet room. “Her lease ended and she didn’t have anywhere to go, so I let her crash here for the night.” “There’s nothing going on between us.” I looked at Liam. Our intersecting gazes were blocked by the white smoke, blurring each other’s expressions. But we both knew how incredibly lame that excuse was. This wasn’t Liam’s first time cheating. He was probably born a player. That’s exactly how he was the first time I met him. Back then, my best friend dragged me to see a relatively well-known indie rock band, claiming the lead singer was insanely hot and tickets were hard to get. I’ve never been interested in rock music, so I wasn’t feeling it. Until Liam walked on stage. He kept his head down, tuning his guitar. He hadn’t put gel in his dark hair, allowing the loose strands to brush across his pale forehead, occasionally revealing thin, flushed eyelids. He was dressed the most casually of anyone on stage—just a simple black t-shirt and jeans—yet he instantly became the center of attention. That face was the most expensive luxury item in the room. He raised his eyes, the hazy stage lights reflecting in his amber pupils, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible smile. That was my first time at a band gig. My friend who brought me, and all the girls in the crowd, went completely crazy. Their screams practically blew the roof off. His gaze swept over the chaotic crowd, and for a split second, our eyes locked, before he quickly looked away. He sang beautifully that night, but I couldn’t hear a single lyric. Because in that moment, everything else went dead silent. All I could hear was the deafening roar of my own heartbeat. After the set, countless girls swarmed backstage to get his number, and I was one of them. Being single for my entire 23 years of life, that was probably the bravest thing I had ever done. Liam didn’t turn anyone away. He let every girl who asked scan his Snapchat QR code that night, including me. A year later, all the crazy groupies and butterflies chasing him had given up and faded away. I was the only one who kept persisting. I don’t know if it was out of pity, being moved by my dedication, or what, but Liam silently accepted our relationship. I became his girlfriend, right up until today. But I knew that throughout all our years together, Liam had never truly liked me. Or rather, he liked me, but he liked that I was understanding, generous, and never caused drama. I caught him cheating many times, but as long as he gave me a half-decent excuse, I would forgive him. He told me many times that I wasn’t his type, and that he was only with me because I treated him well. He even joked that the day he found true love, he would dump me. The only reason our relationship had survived this long was solely because I was willing to compromise and swallow my pride. “You promised me you wouldn’t cheat again.” My voice was low, my eyes fixed on the torn Balenciaga logo pantyhose on the floor. A flash of mockery crossed Liam’s eyes, without the slightest intention of comforting me. “I was just messing around, and you actually believed it?” He smirked, leaning in close, blowing the menthol-scented smoke right into my face. His features were filled with pure malice: “Can’t handle it?” “If you can’t handle it, we can break up.” He had said that to me countless times before. Every time, it ended with me hugging him, begging him not to leave. Over time, he learned exactly how to control me. He knew that once he said those words, I would cave. I turned my head away. “I’m tired. I’m going to get some rest.” Liam grabbed my wrist. He had a strong brow bone, and when his face was expressionless, it always gave off an oppressive, intimidating pressure. “Maya, don’t push it.” I shook off his hand and went into the bedroom. Not long after, I heard the deafening slam of the front door. Liam left. He was mad, I knew that. After all, throughout our entire relationship, I was always the one coddling him, chasing after him. I had never given him attitude like this before. I rolled over and opened my phone. In the family group chat, my mom sent a text tagging me. “I’ve never pressured you before, but you’re 27 this year. It’s about time you start thinking about marriage.” “My coworker’s son has a great background, and I think he’s handsome. You should come back home during your vacation and meet him.” I opened a message from my boss. “Maya, the new branch office is desperately short-staffed right now. Honestly, keeping someone with your skills as a deputy manager here is a waste of your talent. Are you interested in going to the branch office as the General Manager? Starting a new operation will definitely be challenging, so think it over.” My mom was calling me home for blind dates. The company just opened a new branch in my hometown city. Right place, right time. It seemed I truly had no reason to stay here anymore. I sighed. Honestly, I really did like Liam. He was handsome enough, his body was great, and we were incredibly compatible in bed. Most importantly, he was a massive player. Being with him was easy because I didn’t have to think about holding him accountable, and I didn’t have to worry about our future. When I first started working, I was so exhausted I couldn’t see straight. I desperately wanted to find someone to vent my stress with. But I’m just average-looking, yet I’m hopelessly obsessed with good looks. I looked everywhere but couldn’t find anyone I actually wanted, until I met Liam. He spent his best years with me, and when I was physically and mentally drained from my career, his body helped me relieve a lot of stress. And even though his relationships with women were messy, he was relatively careful in that regard. Before we got together, I heard he required any woman he slept with to show a clean STD panel from within the last three days. I always used protection, so I wasn’t afraid of catching anything. If I wanted to find another man this perfectly suited to my needs in the future, it would probably be difficult. But there was nothing I could do. Dating was one thing, settling down and getting married was another. I liked Liam a lot. But I also knew perfectly well that he wasn’t marriage material. Now, it was time for me to make a choice. 02 Liam didn’t come home that night. He didn’t show up for the next few days either. He didn’t answer my texts or my calls. When I tried texting him again, a red exclamation point popped up. He had blocked me. His usual, practiced silent treatment. This had happened a few times before. Liam was a master at the cold war. Every time, I had to swallow my pride and coax him for a long time before he would give me the time of day. Except this time, I was busy handing over my work responsibilities and didn’t have time to coax him. That night, as I was buying a plane ticket back to my hometown, my phone suddenly rang. It was one of Liam’s friends. The background was loud—men and women laughing and shouting, the music so blaring it was annoying even through the phone. “Maya, Liam had too much to drink. Can you come pick him up?” Liam loved hitting the clubs. His family was loaded; the band was just a hobby. He didn’t rely on it for money. I asked him once why he didn’t join the family business. He sneered, saying that his dad’s illegitimate kids were already tearing each other’s throats out over that little bit of money, and he had no interest in fighting over scraps. Anyway, whatever his grandfather and his mom owned would be left to him. He wasn’t hurting for cash, so he was just going to spend his life doing whatever he wanted. Liam had absolutely no career ambition. On that front, we had zero common ground. Every time I landed a new project at the company or got a promotion, he always looked completely disinterested when I told him. He once scoffed that working yourself to death for a standard monthly salary was pointless; it wasn’t even enough to cover the bottle service he bought in one night at the club. I knew that deep down, we weren’t the same kind of people. Aside from physical compatibility, we had nothing to talk about. I didn’t care about his soul, I only liked his body. He ignored my inner thoughts and was just used to me being compliant. That worked out fine. When we separated like this, neither of us would be sad. I thought about it and said okay. I hung up the phone and looked out the window. The city at night seemed even more magnificent than during the day. Millions of lights from homes and the endless stream of traffic blended together, drowning out the light of every star in the sky. I glanced at my plane ticket: 8:00 AM the day after tomorrow. I sighed. Actually, I didn’t want to break up this quickly. Liam and I were really great in bed. The pressure of switching companies these past few days had been huge, and I originally wanted to have breakup sex with him. I smacked my lips, feeling it was a bit of a waste. But since the opportunity had presented itself, there was nothing I could do. … When I got to the club, Liam was surrounded by a group of girls. All different types, all shapes and sizes. Their common trait was that they were all gorgeous. Even heavy makeup couldn’t hide the youthful collagen in their faces; they all looked very young. It was no wonder girls liked him. Liam’s family was rich, he was generous with his money, and he was incredibly handsome. Even his player reputation somehow added to his charm. I touched my own face, remembering the insulting things Liam had said to me before. “You’re 27. You need to go get some facials and treatments. Put some effort into your appearance, okay?” No wonder he found me repulsive. Turns out he was surrounded by girls in their early twenties. I didn’t say anything, just stood outside the crowd. My eyes met Liam’s. But he acted as if he hadn’t seen me, quickly looking away. Chloe’s face was flushed red. She pressed herself tightly against him, her voice sticky: “Liam, have one more drink.” Liam smiled. Under the club lights, the corners of his eyes curved up. He looked stunning, but there wasn’t a trace of warmth in his expression. “Drinking like this is boring. Why don’t you feed it to me?” “How?” Liam didn’t answer, just looked down at her. Half a second later, Chloe understood. A flash of delight crossed her eyes. She tilted her head back and downed the caramel-colored whiskey in her glass! Then, Liam suddenly hooked her chin and kissed her fiercely. There was no tenderness in his kiss; it seemed purely to vent his emotions. Chloe tilted her head back to accept it, the corners of her eyes gradually growing damp from the lack of oxygen. Liquor spilled from the corners of their mouths, catching the hazy colors of the club lights. It wasn’t until a long time later, when they separated, that a long, silver trail of saliva connected them. The atmosphere around them instantly exploded. Everyone was screaming and cheering. I knew he did it on purpose. He was punishing me. Punishing me for giving him attitude the other day, and for not immediately coaxing him afterward. It wasn’t until I walked right up to Liam that everyone else finally noticed me and gradually went quiet. Liam looked up, his face indifferent: “What are you doing here?” I looked at his face, vaguely recalling the days when we were inseparable. When the passion was high, we had even spoken of love. Did it hurt? I suppose a little. But it didn’t hurt that much, because I had known for a long time exactly what kind of person Liam was. He was a player, endlessly chasing thrills, incapable of saying no. He was selfish. Probably because he was spoiled growing up, always putting himself first and never considering anyone else’s feelings. My voice trembled as I said: “Liam, you’ve gone too far.” Liam looked up at me. Even though he was sitting and I was standing, I felt as if he was the one looking down on me. He still had that indifferent expression, wearing a contemptuous smile. “Too far? You can always break up with me. No one’s stopping you.” I didn’t say a word, just stared at him. I couldn’t count how many times he had used breaking up to threaten me. Fifty times? A hundred times? Even the friends around us felt he went too far. After all, they had all seen how dedicated I had been to him over the years. One of them whispered to him: “Liam, stop fighting with Maya. Look at her, she’s about to cry.” In fact, I was crying. If you’re going to put on an act, you have to go all the way. The moment that tear hit the floor, I clearly saw Liam’s expression change. The fingers holding his cigarette twitched. Yet, he still didn’t say anything, just watched me coldly. The next second, I said softly: “Okay, Liam.” “Let’s break up then.” Liam’s face instantly turned incredibly ugly. For a moment, I almost thought he was going to attack me! But instead of getting angry, he laughed. But no matter how you looked at it, the laugh seemed forced through gritted teeth. “You’re acting tough now, Maya. Fine. Just remember, I never go back to my exes.” “When the time comes, don’t come crawling back to me like a dog begging.” “Okay.” I nodded, wiping the tear from my eye. Then I turned and left, without ever looking back at him. Liam didn’t come home that night. I stayed up deleting Liam’s contact info and everything related to him, and packed my bags. Early the next morning, I took the first flight back to my hometown. As the plane broke through the clouds, I pulled out my SIM card and tossed it into the vomit bag. 03 I never contacted Liam again. I posted a few late-night, emo captions on Instagram to solidify my “heartbroken” persona, and then cleanly wiped him from my mind. Life back in my hometown fell into a routine. I quickly adapted to the operations at the new branch office, and started meeting the guys my parents set me up with. The guy sitting across from me—a 28-year-old mid-level manager who was already starting to go bald—was rambling endlessly: “I think women should focus on the family after marriage. What I mean is, after we get married, you shouldn’t work anymore. You shouldn’t be so career-oriented. Take good care of the house. Behind every successful man, there should be a woman…” He kept blabbering on. I smiled, looking at the coffee cup in my hand, thinking to myself: Hold it in. Do not dump this over his stupid pig head. When he finally finished, he looked at me: “Did you clearly understand everything I just said? Do you have anything to add?” I maintained my smile: “No. But Mr. Smith, I don’t think we’re a very good match. Let’s just not see each other again.” Then, amidst his rambling about how “women over 25 lose their value, why are you being so picky, old woman,” I turned and walked away. I had been back in my hometown for quite a few days now, and my mom had set me up on quite a few blind dates. Actually, some of them were pretty decent catches. But having experienced the absolute best, dealing with guys like Liam, I really couldn’t force myself to accept these average dudes. This mood carried over until my morning meeting at work. Everyone had arrived early, sitting silently around the conference table. The atmosphere was serious. I quietly asked the VP next to me: “What’s going on? Did something happen to the company?” The VP leaned in close to my ear: “The old Chairman’s son just parachuted in. Word is he’s using our branch as practice, and later he’s going to take over the entire corporation.” “I heard the new young CEO graduated from Harvard. After graduation, he spent a few years at Goldman Sachs. Then he started his own finance firm and made billions overnight. If the old Chairman hadn’t spent years threatening and bribing him, he never would have come back. He is absolutely ruthless, so be incredibly careful when you talk to him!” A moment later, a young man wearing a black suit walked in. An overcoat was draped over his shoulders. The moment he stepped into the office, someone behind him respectfully took his coat, and his leather shoes came to a halt. I looked up. It wasn’t just me; in that instant, everyone’s gaze was captured by him. The first thing that intimidated you was the aura emanating from this man. It was the aura of someone used to being at the very top, accustomed to absolute control. He didn’t even have an arrogant expression, but everyone in the room, including me, felt an irresistible urge to bow our heads, not daring to meet his eyes. Only upon the second glance did I clearly see his exceptionally bright eyes. His black hair was slicked back with gel, revealing prominent brow bones. I had heard that the Chairman’s wife was French. The elegance of blonde hair and blue eyes, combined with the grace of Eastern beauty, merged perfectly within him. A classic Western bone structure with Eastern features. This man was incredibly handsome, easily on par with Liam. But because his aura was so overpowering, people didn’t notice his looks at first glance. “Apologies, my flight was delayed. I’m late.” He started by admitting his fault, then sat at the head of the table and cut straight to the chase: “My name is Ethan Vance. From now on, I am the General Manager of this company. I have already reviewed the company’s basic profiles and financial reports. Now, starting with the VP, everyone will give a basic report on the business results of the past year and the projects you are currently handling.” The department heads stood up one by one, trembling as they gave their reports. The new young CEO, Ethan, was indeed the elite the rumors made him out to be. He pinpointed every single area where someone tried to gloss over the details. “I don’t like vague rhetoric, and I don’t like being played for a fool. I hope we can communicate effectively, but if my communication yields no results, I will consider other methods.” He clearly didn’t yell or physically attack anyone, but a layer of cold sweat broke out on everyone’s backs. Even when I stood up, my palms were slick with a thin layer of sweat. Luckily, I was fully prepared, and my business results from the past year were quite excellent. The more I spoke, the more confident and fluent I became. My resume and my career were my pride, the most important things in my life. I would never cut corners on that front. CEO Vance didn’t interrupt me. I saw a hint of admiration in his eyes. A moment later, I stopped and signaled that I was finished. He nodded: “Maya, right? Not bad.” “From now on, all business reports should follow this standard.” … Ever since CEO Vance arrived, everyone’s workload had increased significantly. He cleared out a lot of redundant tasks and toxic assets, and also secured many high-quality projects. Everyone was working longer overtime hours, but our salaries had also risen accordingly. My colleagues, especially the young female ones, were very interested in the new CEO. Two new young hires didn’t know what got into their heads, but they actually tried pulling the “domineering CEO falls for the innocent girl” routine from romance novels. One openly argued with him during a meeting. The other “accidentally” spilled coffee on his three-thousand-dollar shirt and tried to wipe it off with her hands. The first one was fired the very next day. The second one was fired that exact same day. The female colleagues finally behaved themselves. However, during breaks, they would still gather in the pantry to gossip about him. “I heard he’s never had a girlfriend before. Do you think he’s still a virgin?!” “How is that possible? You watch too much TV. A guy with his qualifications has tons of women eyeing him. There’s no way he’s a virgin.” “Let me sleep with him for one night! I’d gladly give up a year’s bonus. He’s an absolute specimen. Did you guys see him when he wore dress pants the other day? My god, he is seriously packing!” … Listening from the sidelines, I suddenly became interested. Without Liam around, this Ethan Vance seemed like an even better option. This man… I wanted to give him a try. 04 I started intentionally appearing in front of Ethan on a regular schedule. He arrived at work half an hour early every day. Three out of five days a week, I made sure to catch the same elevator as him. Usually, it was just the two of us in the elevator at that time. I didn’t talk much. I just said hello, pressed the floor button for him, and stood quietly to the side. Then, like clockwork, I went to get a cup of coffee every day at noon. He usually got coffee around that time too. I made sure to run into him in the pantry every time, but I always left before he finished pouring his, making sure he noticed me. Occasionally, I worked overtime, and he would walk past my desk when he left for the day. In short, I tried to appear in front of him as much as possible, while absolutely refusing to speak a single unnecessary word to him. Finally, on the 17th time he caught me working overtime, his footsteps paused, and he walked over to me. “I’ve noticed you working late a lot recently. Are you running into any issues?” I looked up, feigning surprise. After a moment of hesitation, I handed over the documents in my hands. “I just took over a new project, but there are some assets in this company whose risk levels I’m not certain about, so I just wanted to study it more carefully.” Ethan naturally sat down in the empty seat next to me: “Let me take a look.” He carried a faint, woody cologne scent. It mixed with the light rose perfume I wore, creating an indescribably intoxicating blend. “I think this project is viable. Look at their 2023 financial statements—the financial status is actually pretty good, and…” He spoke with ease and fluency. I sat beside him, nodding earnestly, occasionally asking highly specialized questions. After he answered each one, I would put on an expression of sudden realization. “So that’s how it works. Thank you, Mr. Vance. I never thought of looking at it from that angle before.” “Your professional skills are already quite strong; you just lack a bit of operational experience. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” “Go home early,” he said, making a rare joke. “Don’t let people think I’m some kind of black-hearted sweatshop boss, forcing employees to work overtime every day.” I nodded, packed up my documents, and went downstairs with him. As we walked out the door, the wind blew raindrops onto me. I hesitated and took a step back. Ethan was about to leave, but seeing me stay put, he turned back and asked: “What’s wrong?” I waved my hand: “It’s nothing, Mr. Vance. You go ahead. I… I just remembered I have something else to do.” He didn’t ask further and nodded before leaving. Five minutes later, his car drove out of the underground parking garage. I was still standing at the entrance of the building. Ethan rolled down his window: “Did you not drive today?” I looked embarrassed: “Yeah. It’s hard to get an Uber when it’s raining. It’s fine, Mr. Vance. I’ll just wait a bit longer, one should show up soon.” He spoke: “Get in. I’ll give you a ride.” … I talked to Ethan quite a bit on the way. He was somewhat surprised to find that our interests aligned perfectly. Even my favorite niche indie film, The Holy Mountain, happened to be his favorite as well. Ethan’s initially aloof demeanor gradually became more conversational. By the time we reached my house, he actually missed the brake and kept driving past it. I pursed my lips, just about to remind him, but he had already noticed. “My apologies, I wasn’t looking at the GPS.” After the car stopped, I thanked him again for giving me a ride home. Ethan just nodded. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back. “What is it, Mr. Vance?” I looked at him. “What perfume are you wearing? It smells nice.” He seemed to regret the words as soon as they left his mouth, but saying anything else would only make it more awkward, so he simply lowered his head and stayed silent. I smiled inwardly: “Penhaligon’s The Coveted Duchess Rose. Well then, Mr. Vance, see you tomorrow.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “409207”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the day my childhood best friend—and husband—caused the biggest scene, he slapped me for the sake of the little girl he loved. I didn’t just take it. I exploded and broke three of his ribs in return. He screamed that he wanted a divorce, but I refused. At the time, I thought we would just keep tormenting each other like this until we both died. But reality hit me fast. Three months later, I fell head over heels for a sweet, innocent younger guy. He’s currently chasing me, begging to make things official. So, I was forced to pull that familiar number out of my block list. When I dialed it, that little girl’s playful voice picked up on the other end: “Elara, it’s too late, you know. Even if you come crawling back like a dog begging for forgiveness, Liam won’t even spare you a glance.” Facing the provocation, I just spoke calmly: “Tell Liam I want that divorce.” The next second, the phone seemed to be snatched away. There was a flurry of static and noise, and then Liam’s voice sounded, fighting hard to control his trembling. He said: “Elara, don’t you dare.” 01 The year I hated Liam Miller the most. I beat up the little girl he loved more than anything. He backhanded me in return and demanded a divorce. Over the years, what he said to me most often was for me to be “good.” For me to be gentle and submissive, just like Daisy. This was the first time he actually asked for a divorce. I didn’t agree. Instead, I pinned him to the ground, broke three of his ribs, and choked him into unconsciousness before he could say another word. Before Liam rolled his eyes and blacked out. The last words I left him with were: “You want a divorce? Not a chance in hell. Since you two forced me to go crazy, you can deal with the consequences. Daisy Miller will be nothing but a mistress her entire life. You both will live in my shadow forever.” At that time, I had a whole list of plans ready. I was prepared for how we would torture and entangle each other until the bitter end. I’ve always held grudges. Once I bite down on my prey, I never let go. Three years of marriage. Liam took me from a girl full of joy walking down the aisle to a full-blown psycho. That trashy couple ruined me. I swore that even if I spent the rest of my life on it, I would make them miserable. For this, I even bought a separate apartment across town, preparing for a long, drawn-out war. However, the universe never lets you know how to arrange the next step of your life. I thought I would be getting revenge on Liam for the rest of my life. I didn’t expect that just three days later. I would find Ethan Barrett fainted from hunger right at my doorstep. At that moment, I had heard Liam was awake in the hospital, cursing me out as a psycho in front of a whole crowd of relatives and friends visiting him. I had excitedly put on my makeup and picked out my brightest, most stunning outfit, getting ready to go there and make his blood boil. I just didn’t expect that as soon as I walked out the front gate, I would trip over a large, unidentified human-shaped object. In a daze, I flipped the person over and saw a face in the prime of its youth. Ethan had gotten his luggage stolen that day. He had gone to a supermarket to work as temporary labor unloading goods, only to be tricked into working three days for free. He was so hungry he was delirious. In a daze, his palm grabbed the hem of my red dress. I saw his lips move and couldn’t help but lean in closer. Then I heard his voice, weak as a dying breath: “Mom…” … After a long silence, I couldn’t help but mutter: “…You serious?” There was no response. He had completely blacked out from starvation. 02 It was only later that I found out. Ethan calling me “Mom” that day was purely a delusion brought on by hunger. When he was a kid, his biological mother abandoned him in a park. The very last image he had of her was her wearing a red dress just like mine. That day, when he collapsed in front of my house, he saw me squatting down close through his haze and thought his mother had come to take him to heaven. When he confessed this part, I couldn’t help but throw my head back and laugh. I laughed until I realized halfway through that nobody was laughing with me, and it actually wasn’t funny at all. Ethan was just crouching in front of me, watching my neurotic face with a pair of wet, round, puppy-dog eyes. There was no anger, no embarrassment, nothing but deep concern. He was very tall. Standing up, his six-foot-two height was quite intimidating. But his demeanor was so utterly harmless. Seeing me look at him, he instinctively got nervous. He rested his head on the arm of the sofa, just watching me with those watery eyes. He didn’t say anything, yet it felt like he said everything. Realizing that I had just directed malicious intentions towards such an innocent, almost transparent soul, I felt a stab of guilt. But I didn’t know how to lower my head and apologize. Three years of an unhealthy marriage had only taught me to use offensive shouting to cover up my own fragility. For three years, all my time was spent entangling with Liam. I had almost forgotten that before I married him, I was the proudest heiress in this city. That sophisticated, confident woman who knew exactly when to advance and when to retreat seemed to have been forgotten in the deepest parts of my memory. The current me was full of resentment towards the world. I once thought I would be trapped in this hate forever. But Ethan reached out his hand, like a dog pawing at my hand. Until I opened my palm, and he placed a pendant inside. It was the one he always wore around his neck. That was a gift his parents gave him right after he was born. Back then, he was still cherished and loved. But later, his father died in an accident, and his mother remarried and abandoned him. All he had left was this pendant. It was the only shred of good memory this world had granted him. But now, he had taken it off and placed it in my palm. He said: “This used to be the most important thing to me. But now, you are the most important person to me. I’m giving it to you, hoping you’ll be happy.” After saying that, he pushed my fingers closed over it, then gently kissed my fist. This was during Ethan’s third month living at my house. I had taken him in with a playful, mocking mindset, wanting to see what he really wanted from me. But he never did anything. He just stood up, put on an apron, and went into the kitchen to make me a newly learned nutritious meal. The spatula he was holding was one I had originally bought with the intent of using as a weapon to smash over Liam’s head during an argument. It looked a bit small and awkward in Ethan’s large hand, but his movements were nimble, not clumsy at all. The boy had a smile on his lips. The sunlight filtered through, making those light brown puppy eyes shine brightly. Spurred by some unknown force, I walked over and couldn’t help but ask him why he was so happy. “Because I get to cook for you.” It was such a simple reason. But it could be interpreted in so many ways. Because someone was eating the food he cooked, because he had a stable environment where he could slowly cook a meal, or simply because he liked cooking for me. Facing those eyes that easily saw through my pretenses, for a moment, I didn’t want to dig any deeper. 03 Under my protection, Ethan had successfully found a job. And nobody dared to bully this poor kid anymore, even though he had no family and was stubbornly kind and honest. He was nineteen this year. Last year, he had been accepted into a good university, but he couldn’t afford the tuition. So, he ran to the big city to find work, thinking there would be more opportunities, only to be scammed right out of the train station. Fortunately, despite the rocky start, things were going well now. He got his new ID sorted out, wore the clothes I bought him, and went to work every day full of energy. When he came back, he was always carrying several large bags of groceries. He thought I was too thin. He would always pinch my slender wrist, not knowing how to use his strength, a deep look of worry appearing on his sharply defined face. In all fairness, my figure wasn’t dainty. In fact, so that I could one day knock that trashy couple—Liam and Daisy—into next week with one punch, I had even taken up boxing. But there was nothing I could do about Ethan being too tall and having a large build. He used to do manual labor to get by. This meant he ate much, much more than the average person. That’s why, after his bag was stolen, he had starved so quickly. And now that he could eat his fill, a faint smile of happiness was always hanging on his face. However, in contrast to his tall stature, he was actually quite socially anxious, and his mind was rather sensitive. If I talked to him too much, he would get embarrassed. According to his colleagues, Ethan barely interacted with anyone at work. But nobody thought he was hard to get along with. Because he spent the whole day working. Whether it was his own job or helping someone else, if you gave it to him, he did it. Unsurprisingly, Ethan was friendly, sincere, and full of sunshine. He was completely different from me. The current me was a bit too dark. All I thought about every day was how to torture my cheating husband and his little mistress. Just because I had been worried about Ethan dying in front of my house and missed the chance to go to the hospital to gloat to Liam didn’t mean I was giving up on tormenting him. Giving up on that man who had been my childhood best friend for twenty-seven years, who had used his entire passionate youth to pursue me and protect me, only to get quickly bored of me after marriage and turn around to love a young girl who looked a few degrees like me. 04 I remembered the last time we met, it was in Liam’s office. I had originally gone there to talk about the divorce. Three years of marriage. My infatuation with him only lasted for the first year. For the remaining two years, I was constantly doubting myself and consuming myself from within. Finally, I was able to face this marriage properly, admit my failure, and want to have a serious talk with Liam. But I didn’t expect Daisy Miller to be hiding under his desk… The two of them were interacting right in front of me, exchanging glances. Acting as if nothing was wrong, treating me like a prop for their sick game. Daisy even thought she was hiding very well. She was leaning against Liam’s leg, smiling slyly. And I, at the very moment Liam looked entirely satisfied, throwing his head back and letting out a groan as his Adam’s apple bobbed, walked straight up to the desk. I grabbed that girl’s hair and dragged her out from underneath. Daisy screamed as she took a slap from me, her pale, pretty little face immediately turning red and swollen. And at that moment, Liam’s voice came from behind me. He called my name: “Elara.” I subconsciously turned around, only to be slapped so hard that stars appeared before my eyes. It took a long time to clear my vision. He was looking down at me arrogantly: “You finally learned how to fight for my attention? Too bad that when you’re like this, you only get uglier and uglier.” Mean words fell one after another. My world fell into a storm of confusion. I remembered the first time Liam confessed to me. He looked at me, his eyes shining, and said, “You look so proud with your head held high, like a princess. I want to protect you forever.” But afterwards, it was: “She knows how to be submissive and please me much better than you do. What about you? You need to show me some sincerity, prove to me that you love me more than she does.” He dragged Daisy into important social events, where she would hide behind him timidly. The guests present looked at us, standing on opposite sides, and whispered amongst themselves. I still stood tall, holding my head high like a princess with a lonely crown under the massive crystal chandeliers. But when I took off my wedding ring and turned around to leave without hesitation, he would chase after me. In a corner where nobody was looking, he would embrace me from behind. “Are you really mad? See, I knew my wife had me in her heart.” His kisses fell on my neck, one after another, his tone ambiguous and lingering. “I just wanted to make you jealous. How could she possibly compare to you? You’re the rose I personally raised for so many years.” He buried his head in my neck and laughed softly. “My stubborn little rose, refusing to bow her head, even your stubbornness is so cute.” At that time, I thought Liam was crazy. I wanted to get out, but due to the deep entanglement of interests between our two families, I chose to endure it again and again. Until finally, they pushed me too far. By the time I snapped back to reality, I already had Liam pinned to the ground. I was holding the ashtray in my hand, smashing it against him again and again, roaring: “I gave you an inch and you took a mile! You two are screwing right in front of me and don’t know how to act, and you even dared to lay a hand on me!” Liam’s face was covered in blood, looking quite frightening. His little girl was huddled up against the wall in a corner, trying her best to minimize her presence, too scared to make a sound. “Elara, if you don’t act ‘good,’ then we get a divorce.” Even now, his eyes were locked onto me, threats issuing continuously from his mouth. He always provoked me, then stood arrogantly on his high ground, savoring my breakdown. And now, looking at his face distorted by pain, I suddenly let out a relieved laugh. I said: “You know, Liam, intentionally hurting someone gets a heavy sentence, but domestic violence only gets a warning.” “As long as our relationship still exists, I will torment you for the rest of your life.” After saying that, I grinned widely, exposing two rows of white teeth. I said: “A divorce? Keep dreaming.” I must have looked incredibly insane. That’s probably why I saw clear fear in Liam’s eyes. The moment my hand choked Liam, I admit I wanted to drag him down to hell with me. But was it worth it? Just letting him off easily like that, letting him die, I wasn’t willing to do that. Yes. Revenge on him was the only thing keeping me going. Until now, I refused to turn back, and I was unwilling to admit that my life had completely become distorted. Now, I was a psycho, a shrew. My reputation was in tatters, and I was still entangled with a man who didn’t love me. My hand started trembling uncontrollably again. The next second, a warm touch pressed against my palm. I turned around and saw Ethan resting his chin on my knee. He was slowly, gently opening my hand, which I had clenched so tightly my nails were digging in, trying to uncurl my fingers. After trying to press on my palm and offering me water but failing, he directly pressed his cheek against my hand, finally succeeding in pulling me back from the emotional storm. At this moment, the boy was staring at me, unmoving, with those round puppy eyes. I lowered my eyes to scrutinize that face. It was youthful, yet had sharp features, giving him a somewhat exotic look. Ethan was undoubtedly good-looking. It was just that his eyes were too clean, making it hard to have indecent thoughts when looking at him. His cheeks and earlobes were turning red, but the sincerity in his expression overrode his embarrassment. Seeing me look at him, he seemed to finally summon his courage. He took a deep breath and spoke as if making a plea: “Don’t bully yourself anymore, okay?” After saying that, he gently picked up my other hand and reverently placed it on top of his head. When Ethan first arrived at the house, his hair was cut very short like stubble, and it felt really good to the touch. At that time, I had joked that the condition for taking him in was that I got to touch his head whenever I wanted. And now, looking at his clumsy, foolish attempts to comfort me, looking at the clarity in the boy’s eyes, I ultimately couldn’t restrain myself from asking that question: “Ethan, after hiding by my side for so long, what do you really want from me?” 05 Once, I also believed that a soul connection existed between people. Like between Liam and me. The first time he saw me when we were five, he put a ring he had woven himself onto my finger and declared that I was a princess he would protect for the rest of his life. In those years when he loved me loudly, he put me high up on a pedestal. During our high school years, almost no boys could get close to me. Correspondingly, Liam was also very conscious of his own behavior. Many girls wanted to get close to him, but Liam just sneered disdainfully. He pointed at me, not far away, and spoke indifferently: “With Elara around, I would look at you?” Later, I went abroad to chase my dreams, and Liam waited for me for three years. As long as he could find the time, he would fly to London to be with me. When the first snow fell, he embraced me from behind and told me, word by word, truly and plaintively, how much he missed me. Later, when I returned home to fight my father’s illegitimate children for the family inheritance, he supported me fully. Even when I successfully acquired the first company, he laughed happily and said: “I’m now a kept man with a CEO girlfriend. I’ll have to work hard in the future so people won’t call me a gold digger.” On the day he proposed successfully, he had fireworks lit up across the city for me. Under the romantic lights, he held my hand and swore he would use the rest of his life to cherish me. The sincerity in his eyes never seemed fake. It’s just that I ignored many details. For example, when he used to hug me and act spoiled, he had mentioned, as if joking, how other people’s wives acted after marriage—how attentive they were to their husbands. “Will I get treated like that one day?” He had looked at me with expectation in his eyes. I had poked his forehead with my finger. “You really think everything good in the world should just fall into your lap, don’t you?” At that time, Liam had sighed, as if resigning himself to his fate: “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I married a powerful woman, so I just have to follow her lead.” But not long after, he changed. The same tactics he used to pursue me were now all given to Daisy. As if intentionally seeking revenge on me, he bought all the gifts he had ever given me for Daisy, even more of them. He said: “She’s so good and obedient. She deserves these rewards.” But when facing me, he sighed: “Elara, I said I would protect my princess for a lifetime. But fairy tales only go up until the prince and princess get married. You’re already married to me now. What you need to do now is learn to be domestic and maintain our marriage, instead of thinking about that stupid company of yours all day, running around outside.” 06 I stood in place, feeling the blood freeze in my veins inch by inch. He seemed to admire my expression at that moment, savoring it bit by bit, a look of satisfaction in his eyes. The hurtful words continued. He said: “If time could turn back, I would still love the old Elara without hesitation. Too bad that the current you has absolutely nothing left that attracts me.” How high he had once placed me on a pedestal was how hard he was now throwing me down. After that, I no longer believed in anyone. Just as I didn’t believe in the current Ethan, didn’t believe that a boy in the prime of his youth would willingly stay by my side without wanting anything. I had been waiting, waiting for Ethan to actively ask me for something—resources or money. He had to want something. Once he opened his mouth, exposed his ugliness, exposed his weakness. Then I would grab hold of his weak spot. This relationship would be entirely dominated by me. I could keep him as a nice little toy or throw him away after I was done. At the very least, he should tell me what he wants. But Ethan just looked at me quietly, those light brown eyes so bright and honest. He said: “I’ve already looked at apartments. Tomorrow, once I get paid, I can move out.” So he had been planning to leave all along. Hearing this, I sneered. Perhaps my expression was too awful. When he spoke next, he became very cautious. He studied my face while his words came out slowly: “After that… can I still cook for you?” He spoke softer and softer. Finally, that head lowered deeply, not daring to look into my eyes. “Ethan.” I looked at him, suddenly speaking calmly: “Do you want me?” The boy’s body jerked. Immediately, a wave of red shot from his face straight to the tips of his ears. Seeing him not speak, I suddenly curled my lips, my smile malicious: “Last time you were in the bathroom, I heard you call my name.” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” The boy’s eyes filled with tears, looking deeply ashamed, almost on the verge of crying. “You were kind enough to take me in, yet my thoughts are so filthy…” I remembered the second day Ethan stayed at my house. I had hired someone to investigate his entire past, every aspect, thoroughly. So I knew that he was still a blank slate. In that instant, the desire to tease him suddenly vanished. I lifted his chin with my finger and spoke bluntly: “Hold me.” When the boy’s muscular arms wrapped around me, I still felt a bit daze. I thought that at this moment I would think of Liam, think of my anger and heartache when he paraded Daisy around in front of me, that I would feel a sense of revenge. But I felt nothing. My gaze was completely drawn to the boy’s eyes, filled with love and adoration. Those eyes crinkled slightly, his eyelashes trembling. When I tightly gripped his full muscles, his breath would become erratic, with soft tremors, like a puppy whimpering. I had to admit, this was the most relaxed and pleasant moment I had experienced in these three years. Regardless of what Ethan’s motive was, at least right now, he was a useful distraction to pull myself out of the swamp of negative emotions. Besides, he was clean, healthy, and skilled. I wasn’t losing anything. I thought in my heart. The lips he was biting were brushed open by his finger pad. The boy’s movements were a bit frantic, a deep look of worry and pity in his eyes. My voice could no longer be controlled, but my ex-husband’s phone call happened to come in at that moment. During these past few months, I hadn’t had the time to find trouble for Liam, but he wasn’t used to that, so he pasted himself right in front of my eyes.

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01 I was a mute trophy girlfriend. Off the bed, I didn’t need to flatter my sugar daddy. On the bed, I didn’t need to praise him for being so good. The only problem was— When I was pushed to my limit, I couldn’t curse him out. Like right now. Liam Sterling noticed my mind wandering. His hands gripped my waist. He forcefully flipped me over. Biting and nipping. So fiercely it felt like he wanted to tear my skin off and swallow me whole. Ahhh, you son of a bitch! I cursed him out frantically in my head. But on the outside, I was the picture of pathetic submission. My eyes were red, tears falling in fat drops. I found an anchor point amidst the tossing. I wrapped my arms around the man’s neck. And rubbed my cheek against his in a silent plea for mercy. According to past experience, as long as I put on this expression, Liam would quickly finish the battle. But tonight, I don’t know what got into him. He pulled out one ultra-thin 0.01 after another. From the bed to the bathroom to the sofa. We went at it until midnight. Only then did he finally carry me back to bed, completely satisfied. I was exhausted. But the moment I thought about what was going to happen tomorrow, my sleepiness vanished instantly. 02 This afternoon, one of Liam’s frat brothers came over to hang out. The study door wasn’t closed tightly. Snippets of their conversation drifted out. “Chloe is coming back tomorrow. Are you sending a car, or are you picking her up yourself, Liam?” “Is ‘Chloe’ a name you’re worthy of using?” Liam’s voice went ice-cold. The guy quickly corrected himself. “Okay, okay, my bad. That’s your exclusive pet name for her…” It was an apology, but mostly he was just teasing. Everyone in their elite social circle knew Liam Sterling had a first love he could never forget. She was fiercely protected by him. People only knew she existed. No one knew her real name or what she looked like. No one even knew why they didn’t end up together. Once, when I was bored and organizing Liam’s study, I saw an old, yellowed photograph. The “first love” was wearing a hat, her face turned slightly away from the camera. The only half of her face that was visible looked about eighty percent like me. The memory of the first time I met Liam flashed through my mind. I was standing on the curb, playing on my phone. A car pulled up and stopped smoothly in front of me. I didn’t look closely, assuming it was the Uber I called. I opened the door and got right in. Whenever I go out, I invent an identity for myself. As a massive introvert, to avoid being talked to by drivers, I always pull out a pre-typed scrolling message on my phone every time I get in a car: [I am mute. Please do not talk to me.] The moment I shoved the phone forward, I realized the driver was a breathtakingly handsome, aristocratic-looking guy. He was way too good-looking to be driving an Uber. Even the car felt like a luxury vehicle just by his presence. He looked at my phone screen over and over again. He stared blankly for a long time before his voice went hoarse and he asked me where I was going. … Looking at the photo, everything suddenly made sense. His loss of composure back then wasn’t because I got into the wrong car. He didn’t kick me out on the spot not because of my fake mute identity. It was because I looked like his first love. The silence in the study broke as the conversation resumed. “What about the one you have at home?” “She’s timid, and she’s mute. She probably can’t handle seeing people…” I didn’t listen to the rest. I tactfully turned and left. If I didn’t leave right then, I wouldn’t have been able to control my emotions. I would have laughed out loud on the spot. Three years! Three whole years! I faked being mute for three years! And I’ve finally made it to the breakup! 03 I was so happy I couldn’t sleep at all. I turned my back to Liam. I unlocked my phone and clicked into the “Trophy Girlfriends Support Group.” I was pulled into this group by an enthusiastic girl in the bathroom during a business dinner I attended with Liam. The ultimate goal of every member in this group was to secure a sky-high breakup fee. Achieve financial freedom, and retire flat on our backs. I couldn’t resist sharing the news in the group. [Liam’s first love is coming back soon!] The moment the message went out, all the night owls who hadn’t slept yet exploded into the chat. [Ahhhh, congratulations, Maya!!] [Manifesting, manifesting, manifesting! Welcoming the first love back! I heard my sugar daddy’s first love is studying in Germany…] [So jealous of you girls. The one I have at home doesn’t even have a first love (dead inside). ] After a wave of envy, Chloe tagged me out of curiosity. [Mr. Sterling is so rich, and he’s always been generous with you. The breakup fee is going to be massive, right?!] Liam has always been very generous with me. My monthly allowance is $50,000. He frequently gifts me designer bags and jewelry. Occasionally, he’ll spontaneously gift me luxury cars and mansions. I never accepted the cars or mansions. After all, as a poor person, I absolutely cannot afford the maintenance on a luxury car! And I definitely can’t afford the HOA and property taxes on a mansion! It’s hard to take them with me, and selling them requires finding a broker… Just thinking about it gives a socially anxious person like me a breakdown. So, my only hope for getting filthy rich was the breakup fee Liam would give me. A few hundred thousand? Or a few million? The more I thought about it, the more excited I got, twisting like a pretzel on the bed. The next second, the man dragged me back into his arms. “Can’t sleep?” His burning body pressed against me again. I was terrified and pushed him away with all four limbs. I brought my hands together and rested them under my cheek. Indicating that I was going to sleep right now! “Tomorrow I have to go to the airport to pick up someone very important to me.” I snapped my eyes open, having just closed them. Liam asked, pretending to be casual: “Do you… want to go with me?” I was dumbfounded. Who? Me? He’s asking if I want to go with him? Taking the stand-in to pick up the first love. Is he planning to piss the first love to death on the spot? I shook my head violently. Liam looked at me deeply for a moment. “That’s fine too… You’re timid. We’ll wait until you want to see her.” Liam has always indulged me. When we first got together, he offered to arrange a job for me. After I refused, he never brought it up again. As an absolute homebody and introvert. This kind of life where I don’t have to leave the house to work. Where food is brought to my mouth and clothes are handed to me. I was actually a little reluctant to leave. My mood uncontrollably dipped. Right then, my phone vibrated. It was an SMS notification from the bank about a transfer. “I probably won’t be home tomorrow night. I might not have time to be with you for the next couple of days.” “Take this money and buy whatever you like…” I didn’t respond to Liam. My eyes were practically glowing as I stared at my phone screen. Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions, tens of millions… I rubbed my eyes. Tossed and turned and counted again. It was indeed eight figures! Liam gave me a $30 million breakup fee! Thirty million! A poor person suddenly striking it rich. The money completely fried my brain. In a moment of sheer excitement, I blurted out: “Thank you, boss! You are so generous, boss!” “…” Our eyes met. The atmosphere instantly froze. I’m doomed! I was so happy I forgot I was supposed to be mute! I mean, how could a mute person be so polite? After realizing what a stupid thing I had done. I covered my mouth guiltily. My waist went limp, and my body slid down. I buried myself entirely under the covers. The next instant, the man pinched the back of my neck and yanked me up. “Little mute.” The little girl he had pampered and held in the palm of his hand for three years was suddenly no longer mute. Liam was practically laughing out of pure anger. “Don’t tell me this is a medical miracle?” 04 Haha. That joke was not funny at all. There was nowhere to hide. To block the burning gaze raking over my body. I had no choice but to cover my face tightly with my hands. “Little mute, speak.” I shook my head, my voice muffled. “Mutes don’t speak.” “…” Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. Looking at the girl in front of him whose face was flushed red, wishing she could disappear, he felt a bit helpless. “Do you have nothing you want to say?” I bit my lip, feeling a bit lost. Yes, I pretended to be mute and lied to him. I won’t defend myself. And the breakup fee has already hit my account. What else is there to say? I have nothing to say! But obviously, I had to say something right now. I changed my line of thinking. I tried to think about what Liam would want to hear, what he liked to hear. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration hit me. “Daddy…” Liam’s breath hitched. As a literature student. I desperately recalled the steamy romance novels I used to read. I picked and chose, and finally found a line I could actually say out loud. “Daddy is so big… so good, I love it so much…” I stammered out the praise. I cautiously moved the two fingers covering my eyes. And peeked at Liam’s expression. His eyebrows were raised, and the corners of his mouth weren’t tight. It seemed like he wasn’t mad? I’ve been faking muteness to avoid this for so long, but in the end, I still couldn’t escape it. At least tonight is my last night as a trophy girlfriend. I racked my brains, searching through my entire mental inventory. “Daddy is so fierce at night, going hard like you took some kind of pill.” Liam’s face instantly went black. “What did you say? Say that again?” I gulped. Was there something wrong with that? Does he not like being called Daddy? But Liam is older, after all. He wouldn’t appreciate the “older brother/younger sister” vibe. My heart was pounding like a drum. I mustered up my courage and repeated: “Daddy is so fierce at night…” Before the rest of the words could come out. They were swallowed down by a sticky, tangled kiss. The man grabbed my hands, which I didn’t know where to put. And moved them lower and lower. Liam’s dark eyes glowed a faint green under the dim wall light. “Little mute, call me that one more time.” … The sky began to lighten. The man was so excited it was as if he had unlocked a whole new world. I buried my damp, sweaty head into the pillow. Thinking dizzily. Good thing I was smart enough to fake being mute for three years. Otherwise, I definitely would have died in this bed! 05 When I woke up again, it was already afternoon. My whole body ached. After screaming all night, my throat was so hoarse I couldn’t speak. Now I was a real mute. Dragging my legs that felt like prosthetics, I went downstairs. Maria, the housekeeper, saw me. She nodded in greeting, turned into the kitchen, and brought a bowl of warm porridge to the table. After doing all this, she vanished silently like a fairy godmother. Liam knew I didn’t like interacting with strangers. So he had instructed everyone from the very beginning. Anyone entering or leaving the house had to minimize their presence. It was incredibly friendly for someone with social anxiety. The more I thought about it, the more I realized Liam was actually pretty great. He had money, he had the looks. He was attentive when he needed to be. And rough enough when it counted. His only flaw was… He had another woman in his heart. “Sigh…” I felt melancholy for all of three seconds. My hand accidentally tapped on the $30 million transfer record. It seems, maybe… I didn’t love him that much anyway, haha. My heart is too small; it only has room for money. As for Liam? Whatever, considering how good he’s been to me. I’ll do him a favor! With that thought. I laid back on the bed with a clear conscience. I pulled a novel from the bookshelf. Chapter One: The Return of the First Love. Perfect, exactly what I need. Time to study up. Half an hour later. I was so pissed off by the male and female leads who refused to communicate that my liver hurt. I exited the novel with a blank expression. I opened iMessage and sent Liam a sticker of a kitten peeking its head out. Liam replied instantly. “You’re awake? Maria kept the porridge warm for you. Eat something good tonight, but don’t overdo it.” “Does it still hurt? Feeling any better?” Ahhhhhh! A capable man asks if you’re tired. A super capable man asks if it still hurts, and if you’re feeling better. I buried my face in the covers and kicked my legs wildly. It took me a good while before I replied coolly. “Yeah.” Liam didn’t reply instantly this time. He was probably busy. I took the opportunity to share some articles I had found. Don’t Miss the Girl Right Beside You. A Man’s Actions Speak Louder Than His Words. Thirty Tips for Pursuing a Woman: Catering to Her Interests. … After sending nearly ten links, I comfortably opened a game. I played for over two hours straight. When I checked my messages again, I saw Liam had replied a long time ago. “Received.” What does “Received” mean? Did he think this was a work memo? The next second, I got a call from Liam’s assistant. Confused, I went downstairs to open the door. The assistant pulled out a black Amex card and handed it to me. “Ms. Davis, this is the supplementary card Mr. Sterling asked me to bring you.” My eyes widened like fried eggs. “For… for me?” Mr. Hayes, the executive assistant, whose expression was usually as tight as a robot’s, completely broke in that moment. “Ms. Davis, you… you aren’t mute?” We stared at each other. I guess I forgot to tell him the truth, haha. Look at this mess. I totally short-circuited this elite professional’s brain. After hearing my explanation, Mr. Hayes pushed his glasses up. His brain began to function again. “My apologies, I just haven’t seen much of the world.” I pursed my lips, feeling extremely embarrassed, and changed the subject. “I heard Mr. Sterling is going to the airport this afternoon to pick up someone very important?” Mr. Hayes nodded. “Yes, Ms. Davis. Would you like to go together?” Taking the stand-in to pick up the first love. Are you straight men insane?! I let out an awkward laugh. “Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Mr. Hayes seemed to think of something. He corrected himself. “It is a bit sudden. It’s better to be mentally prepared before meeting.” What’s going on… Is this first love someone I have to meet eventually? I immediately bypassed that topic. “Liam is so busy. Since you’re picking them up, have you prepared flowers and gifts? Are you throwing a welcome dinner tonight?” “You don’t need to worry about that, Ms. Davis. Mr. Sterling had that all arranged last month.”

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I just found out my younger brother is the male lead in a romance novel. According to the plot, on his eighteenth birthday, he’s supposed to meet the female lead, and sparks will fly. Refusing to be part of their twisted game, I hurriedly packed my bags to leave the country. Learning I was leaving, the brother who usually acted so gentle sneered, trapping me in his arms with a look that was both sick and obsessive: “Sister, I forgot to tell you… we aren’t blood-related.” 01 After discovering my brother was a novel’s male lead, the way I looked at Liam changed completely. At the time, Liam was seventeen and a junior in high school. Wearing his blue and white school hoodie, he dropped his backpack, looking relaxed and a bit lazy: “Chloe, I’m home.” This kid. Ever since he started high school, he stopped calling me “sis” and always used my first name. Even though it annoyed me, seeing him towering at almost 6’2″, I didn’t dare push it too much. Especially since I had just learned that in this novel, Liam was a “naturally gifted, tirelessly energetic” male lead. Normally, when he refused to call me “sis,” I would run over and mess up his hair. But now… “Chloe, why are you looking at me like that?” Liam’s tone was cool as he glanced up at me. I pretended to stare at the TV, acting like nothing was wrong. “Nothing.” Honestly, the pet on this TV show is pretty cute… “What are you smiling at?” It was summer. Liam took off his jacket, revealing a white t-shirt underneath, his hair slightly messy. He swept his slightly upturned eyes over the TV and casually sat down next to me on the sofa. “What is that?” I choked on my own spit, coughing violently. Liam naturally reached out to pat my back. I froze, glanced at the TV, and said, “That… I think it’s a cockatoo.” “Hm.” He pulled his hand back, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the sofa. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes. His eyelashes were really long. I looked at his sharp, handsome profile. This kid, his skin was not only pale and clear, but his features were incredibly refined. Let’s just say he looked like a young movie star. The most distinctive thing was a small red mole right on his Adam’s apple. It was very eye-catching. I coughed, shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, and kept my eyes glued to the screen. But my mind had already drifted back to the plot of the novel. On his eighteenth birthday, Liam falls in love at first sight with a girl five years older than him. He becomes dangerously possessive and obsessively in love. And I, somehow, become a part of their twisted games. Finding torn clothes and crumpled tissues in the mansion I share with Liam… Thinking about it made me inexplicably annoyed. I grabbed my phone, wanting to retreat to my room. Before I could take a few steps, Liam stood up and grabbed my wrist. Thinking of that absurd plot, I snapped at him, “What?” The seventeen-year-old boy leaned down, glancing at me before lowering his head: “No head pats today?” Under the lamplight, his soft hair had a gentle halo. I don’t know what came over me, but I reached out and ruffled his hair like a dog’s, leaving a few strands sticking up in all directions. Finally, I instinctively patted his head, like praising an obedient pet. Once I was done, Liam straightened up, smirked, and threw an arm around my shoulder, leading me upstairs. He smelled faintly of crisp mint. I vaguely felt something was off: “Liam, what are you doing?” Liam glanced at me sideways, then pinched his earlobe and said, “Weren’t you going to your room? I’m going up too.” Wait… according to the novel, every time Liam wouldn’t let the female lead out of bed, he would pinch his own earlobe… But then again, maybe it’s just a subconscious habit? Feeling a strange, indescribable sensation in my chest, I hurried back to my room. 02 Back in my room, I couldn’t help but recall the scene when I saw Liam again at eighteen. My parents divorced when I was very young. I lived abroad with my mom, while Liam, who was barely a year old, stayed with my dad in the States. When I became an adult, my father passed away. I left my mother’s new family and resolutely returned to the States to take care of this underage, practically stranger of a younger brother. At my father’s funeral, I saw fourteen-year-old Liam wearing an ill-fitting black suit. Like a lone wolf, the boy stood in front of the tombstone, watching the people come and go with cold detachment. It was a gloomy day. The clouds were dark, and soon a light drizzle began to fall. I walked up to him with an umbrella, feeling a bit absurd as I spoke: “Hi, I’m your surprise sister, Chloe.” After that day, I became Liam’s legal guardian. At first, he would obediently call me “sister,” but after over a decade apart, there was an inevitable distance and caution between us. Yet, there was no denying we shared the same blood. What truly brought us closer happened the year Liam turned fifteen. It was the anniversary of our father’s death. School had let out a long time ago, but Liam still hadn’t come home. Without a second thought, I went to the cemetery where our father was buried. And there, I found Liam, eyes red, hugging the tombstone and crying. “How did you know I was here?” Are you kidding? You didn’t come home on your dad’s death anniversary, where else would you be? I didn’t answer. I just told him to come home with me. I remember clearly what he said: “I don’t have a mom, and now I don’t have a dad either.” I didn’t comfort him, because, in a way, I was the same. I didn’t have a dad, and my mom was busy being a mom to someone else’s kids. He and I, we were the same kind of people. “Liam, look on the bright side. I still have a younger brother, and you still have an older sister.” I stood there in a standoff with him for a while. Finally, Liam got up, slung his black cartoon backpack over his shoulder, followed behind me, and went home. I have to say, he was starving. He ate three huge bowls of rice when we got back. Regardless, from that point on, our relationship improved significantly. It wasn’t until he hit high school that he started rebelling. He stopped calling me “sis” and used my first name instead, which was highly disrespectful. This kid. I was the one who went to all his parent-teacher conferences. 03 A noise at the door interrupted my memories. Liam’s cool voice called out: “Chloe, sign this for me.” I opened the door, took the permission slip from him, and signed my name. In a daze, I realized Liam’s eighteenth birthday was fast approaching, just a few months away. Handing the slip back, I casually asked, “Liam, what do you want for your eighteenth birthday?” Liam glanced at me, looked away, paused for a moment, and said, “You guess.” I looked up and caught sight of the small red mole on his Adam’s apple. He was looking down, staring intently at me. An unnamed emotion flooded my heart. I pushed down the weird feeling, made a casual joke, and went back to my room. Would a docile-looking Liam really fall hopelessly in love with the female lead on his eighteenth birthday and turn into the psycho described in the plot? In the middle of the night, still baffled, I texted my friend to grab some late-night food. At the food truck, looking at my best friend Maya, I couldn’t help but ask, “Do you think it’s possible we’re actually NPCs in a novel?” Hearing this, Maya cracked open a beer, took a big swig, and said dismissively, “If we’re NPCs, we’re NPCs. NPCs still gotta drink beer.” This glutton. I couldn’t help but smirk, grabbing a skewer of grilled meat. “You’re right. NPCs still gotta eat barbecue.” We were in the middle of eating when Maya suddenly checked her phone and urged me, “Aren’t you going back? Your brother’s probably going to come dragging you home soon.” I took another sip of beer, annoyed. “What brother?” Maya looked behind me and gloated, “Chloe, good luck.” I turned my head a beat too slow and saw Liam in a black hoodie. He scanned a QR code to pay the bill, called an Uber for Maya, and after seamlessly handling all that, walked over to me. “Chloe, you don’t have a brother?” I explained awkwardly, “I’ve just been on my own for so long, I forgot.” I’d only been living with Liam for a few years. Besides, I was already eighteen when I met him. Subconsciously, I never really saw him as a brother. He was just some kid to me. Moreover, how did he know I was here? The tall, lean figure suddenly leaned down, and I heard him ask, “Are you drunk?” “No.” I’ve always had a high tolerance; I wouldn’t get drunk this easily. But then, Liam held up some fingers and asked how many there were. I just opened my mouth and bit his hand. “Why are you pointing at me…” I heard a soft chuckle near my ear. Liam pinched his earlobe, his tone dark. “I hope you really are drunk.” 04 When I woke up again, it was already noon. Liam had gone to school early. I rubbed my throbbing head and crawled out of bed. Looking in the mirror at a face that shared some resemblance with Liam’s, I suddenly noticed my lips were a bit swollen. Confused, I wondered if I was having an allergic reaction. In the afternoon, when Liam came home, I asked him, “Did you feed me jelly last night?” He raised an eyebrow and asked what was wrong. “Nothing, just felt like it tasted pretty good.” Liam seemed to think of something. He touched his nose, dropped his backpack, and said casually, “Glad you liked it.” I watched him go upstairs, then pulled out my phone to look for birthday presents for him. I was deeply engrossed when Liam’s homeroom teacher called. Liam was a senior now and had always refused to live in the dorms. With only a few months left until finals, even though his grades were excellent, his teacher hoped he would move in. After hanging up, I went upstairs and knocked on Liam’s door. When he opened it, his hair was messy, and he looked exhausted. I asked him what was wrong. He leaned against the doorframe, glanced at me, and said, “Catching up on sleep.” I remembered I was the reason he stayed up late last night and felt a bit guilty. But I still told him about his teacher’s call. Before, when he didn’t want to live on campus, I let him have his way. But finals were approaching, and to give him more time to study, I was very firm about him moving in. Hearing this, Liam lowered his eyes. Seeing that I wasn’t leaving room for negotiation, his expression remained flat as he nodded in agreement. Seeing him agree, I breathed a sigh of relief. If Liam wasn’t home, I wouldn’t have to overthink things. But I celebrated too soon. In the middle of the night, while I was sound asleep, a loud crash woke me up. It sounded like something heavy falling. I rushed out and saw Liam leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. His face was pale, cold sweat on his forehead. When he looked at me, his eyes were dark. I ran down, noticed his swollen red ankle, and anxiously asked what happened. Liam leaned his entire weight on me, his voice hoarse: “I missed a step.” Liam has perfect vision, and the hallway light was on. How could he miss a step? Before I could think too much, Liam rested his head on my shoulder, his breathing rising and falling by my ear. The pain made his breathing erratic. It looked serious. I quickly helped him into the car. In the SUV, leaning against the passenger seat, his voice was weak: “Chloe, buckle me in.” I leaned over him. The scent of crisp mint filled my nose. Just then, Liam lifted his arm slightly, making it look like I was being embraced by him. My heart skipped a beat as I hurriedly buckled him in. Anxious, I sped to the hospital. The doctor looked at Liam’s severely swollen ankle and asked, confused, “How did you fall?” Liam said flatly, “Missed a step coming down the stairs.” The older doctor frowned. “Missing a step wouldn’t cause a fall like this. It looks more like someone…” Before the doctor could finish, Liam interrupted, “Doctor, just prescribe some medicine for now.” The doctor looked at me, then at Liam, and sighed. “I’ll give you an analgesic spray and some ice packs. If it still hurts after a week, come back for another check-up.” 05 Liam is an arrogant kid with a slight germaphobe streak. But he never rejected me. So, I took the initiative to apply the ice packs for him, and then sprayed the medicine on his foot. On the way home, Liam looked out the window and suddenly said, “My foot hurts. Do I still have to live in the dorms?” I sighed. With a foot like that, applying medicine in a dorm would be inconvenient. It was best he stayed home so I could take care of him. “No, I’ll pick you up from school lately.” I casually turned on the car stereo. Liam was staring intently out the window. While waiting at a red light, I glanced over and noticed my reflection in the passenger window. “Does it still hurt?” He looked over, his Adam’s apple bobbing, that small mole highly visible. “It doesn’t hurt.” Because of his leg injury, I picked him up from school every day. Today, I saw a few guys walking next to Liam, seemingly asking him something. Being close, I heard everything. “It’s been three years, and you haven’t dated anyone.” “Yeah, a lot of girls like you, Liam. What exactly is your type?” I rolled down the window and waved at Liam. He said something to the guys and walked over, his steps looking a bit strained. As soon as he sat down, I asked curiously, “What were you guys talking about?” Liam crossed his arms and looked at me sideways. His hair covered his brows, a straight nose, thin lips—he was very good-looking. “Someone older than me.” I nodded in understanding. So he did like older girls. No wonder he’d fall in love at first sight with an older woman. For some reason, hearing him say that made me not want to continue the conversation. Instead, he broke his usual silence and asked me: “The music is so loud. Is the soundproofing good?” I answered without thinking, “Of course. Not only is the soundproofing good, but it’s also spacious. Two adults could lay down in the back seat without feeling cramped.” … Wait, could my car become a prop in his twisted games with the female lead? I shot him a glare and snapped, “Why do you ask?” He raised his hand, his long, thin fingers pinching his earlobe. “Nothing.” This kid, always acting so mysterious. 06 Since Liam had finals coming up, I went into his room at night to spray the medicine and massage his ankle. When I entered, Liam was lying in bed, seemingly napping. High school senior pressure was intense, and with his injured foot, I was genuinely worried. His room was all black and white, simple and clear. I walked in quietly, sat on the edge of the bed, and rolled up his sweatpants. His ankle was swollen, red, and purplish. It hurt just to look at it. How could he fall so badly just missing a step… I sprayed the medicine and gently massaged it the way the doctor showed me. The person on the bed opened his eyes, his dark gaze sweeping over me. He called me in a low voice, “Chloe.” “Hmm?” I focused on massaging his ankle without giving him a glance. “Go to sleep.” After massaging for a while, the person on the bed actually fell asleep. I pulled the covers over him and looked around his room. There was a large bay window behind the black curtains. In the plot, he and the female lead did many inappropriate things there. For instance, the female lead looking out the window, begging pitifully, “Don’t do this.” And beneath the sleek black desk beside it, the space was large enough to fit an adult. I frowned, understanding instantly. I’ve read too much of this stuff; my mind is tainted. Liam’s desk was very tidy. My sharp eyes noticed a black notebook at the very top. I subconsciously reached out to touch it. It seemed to be Liam’s diary. With a black leather cover, the diary seemed as cold and aloof as Liam himself. “Chloe, don’t look.” When did he wake up? Surprised, I pulled my hand back: “I wasn’t looking.” Liam propped himself up, looking exhausted, his voice hoarse: “Chloe, I want some of your noodles.” 07 On the day of our father’s funeral, I took Liam home. The fourteen-year-old locked himself in his room without a word and wouldn’t come out no matter how much I called him. That night, I made a bowl of noodles and left it at his door. In the early hours of the morning, I went out for a drink of water and saw Liam sitting on the floor in the hallway, eating the noodles. He was wolfing it down, completely abandoning his usual composure. I pretended not to see, went downstairs for some hot water, and waited a long time before returning to my room. The next morning, when I went downstairs, someone was washing dishes in the kitchen. The boy, wearing an apron, poked his head out and politely said, “Good morning, sis.” Remembering the past, I couldn’t help but smile: “Okay, I’ll go make some.” I happened to have a handful of noodles left. In the pot, the water was boiling violently. Watching the noodles toss and turn in the boiling water, I couldn’t help but think that in the predestined plot, we were just like these noodles in the pot—helpless duckweeds in the rushing river of fate. Lost in thought, a pair of strong arms suddenly wrapped around my waist. Stunned, I was about to push him away when I heard the person behind me say, “I miss Dad.” When he said that, I simply couldn’t refuse him. Liam rested his head on my shoulder, his warm breath tickling my ear. He whispered, “Chloe, don’t be nervous.” I wasn’t nervous, just felt a bit unnatural. After a long pause, he sighed and murmured to himself, “Sister, we were always meant to be the closest of people.” Liam’s heart was beating like a drum against my back. I felt a wave of dizziness. …

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