Category: English

When his mother found out, she immediately brought me to their five-story mansion. Overnight, I transformed into a princess, surrounded by love and attention. Grandma: “My dear granddaughter-in-law, these are our family’s heirloom jade jewelry.” Mother-in-law: “Sweetheart, keep this black card safe. All our family’s money is managed by the women.” Father-in-law: “Darling, please sign this agreement to transfer some company shares. If you think it’s not enough, we can add more!” Running into Jasper and Ann at the hospital was something I hadn’t expected. When I was with Jasper, I knew he had a close junior from college. On Jasper’s birthday, Ann, who was studying abroad, made a special effort to send a video message with her wishes. Seeing how intimate they looked, my heart ached. We had only broken up two months ago, and he had already moved on? Even found someone new. I unconsciously clutched the pregnancy report in my hand, not wanting anyone to see it. Yes, I was pregnant, and the baby was Jasper’s, just over two months along. I watched their matching silhouettes and turned to leave. “Jane?” Hearing the familiar voice, my whole body froze. I gripped the report tightly, afraid to move. “Jasper, what’s wrong?” Ann asked. “Nothing,” Jasper replied in a low voice. I felt a wave of sadness. So Jasper truly didn’t love me anymore, treating me like a stranger even when we met again. Fine, let’s just be strangers then. I kept my head down and walked forward. “Wait! Jane.” It was Ann. I didn’t want to deal with this and quickened my pace slightly. But in high heels and with a baby on the way, I couldn’t move very fast. Surprisingly, Ann caught up and grabbed my hand, forcefully turning me to face her. This was my first time seeing Ann in person. She was beautiful and elegant, with bright red lipstick that highlighted her bold beauty. Jasper stood right beside her, his face cold and expressionless. It was so frustrating. The father of my child was here with another woman, and I couldn’t even say a word. After hesitating, I finally managed to ask, “Can I help you?” Ann’s face twitched slightly, as if she hadn’t expected me to respond this way. After composing herself, she said, “Of course I do.” She linked her arm with Jasper’s and continued, “I hope you’ll stop bothering Jasper from now on. Only relationships between people of the same social status can last. You’ll only hold him back.” Ann’s words hit a sore spot. This was the very reason Jasper and I had broken up. Our families were worlds apart. He was the sole heir to a wealthy family, while I was an overlooked girl from a humble background. My mom had tricked me out of my savings, claiming she needed surgery, only to buy my brother a house the next day. When I found out about the scam, I truly felt like I was dragging Jasper down. In an emotional moment, I suggested we break up. For some reason, he was in a bad mood that day too. He only asked once if I was sure, then agreed to the breakup. We ended things just like that, in a messy, unclear way, right up until our reunion today. “Ann, let’s go,” Jasper said, his face dark as if holding back something. How ridiculous! I should be the angry one here, being lectured by a stranger. If anyone should leave, it should be me first. I stormed off, fuming. As I went down the stairs, I accidentally missed a step. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, but luckily a kind lady caught me, and I grabbed her arm to steady myself. “Are you alright, dear?” The lady kept supporting me until I was stable. “I’m fine, thank you so much.” I accidentally glimpsed the lady’s Hermès Birkin bag and my heart skipped a beat. Thank goodness I hadn’t grabbed that bag – I could never afford to pay for any damage. “You dropped this.” She picked up my pregnancy report from the ground. Just as I was about to take it back, she paused. “Young lady, is your name Jane?” Her surprised tone left me confused. We didn’t know each other, did we? “Yes, how did you…” Before I could finish, Jasper’s voice suddenly rang out. “Mom, what are you doing here?” No way, how could this be so dramatic? Running into my ex-boyfriend while checking on my pregnancy was one thing, but meeting his mother too? There was no way I could hide my pregnancy now. “Jasper, is this Jane?” Mrs. Thompson’s tone became serious. Jasper’s silence said it all. “How could you be so careless! Such a big thing and you didn’t even tell me!” “Jane dear, you’re coming home with me right now. Pregnant women need extra care. Let me look after you properly.” Mrs. Thompson took my hand and started to leave. This… this… “Mom, what are you talking about?!” Jasper exclaimed. “Shut it, young man! I’ll deal with you later!” Mrs. Thompson threw my pregnancy report at Jasper. When Jasper saw the report, he looked completely shocked. Of course, the one with the most dramatic facial expressions was Ann. Her face turned from red to white, then back to red again, her lips trembling with anger. “Mrs. Thompson, there must be some misunderstanding. Jasper has already broken up with her,” Ann interjected. “Our family matters are none of your business, Miss Brown.” Mrs. Thompson shot Ann a sharp glare, causing her to lower her head in fear. “My precious daughter-in-law, will you come home with me?” When Mrs. Thompson spoke to me, her voice was incredibly gentle, and she looked at me with loving eyes. Faced with such a warm-hearted lady, I found it impossible to refuse. Before I knew it, I was being led away. By the time I came to my senses, I was already sitting in Mrs. Thompson’s car. Things were spiraling out of control. I carefully began, “Mrs. Thompson, Jasper and I have indeed broken up. I think it’s better if I stay at my own place. Besides, Jasper has Ann now, so we should probably keep our distance.” “Nonsense, silly girl! There’s nothing between Jasper and Ann, and I would never approve of them being together!” “The only reason Jasper is nice to Ann is because she once saved his life in college. Of course, we’re very grateful to her, and we’ve always tried to accommodate her requests over the years. That’s fine, but if she’s getting greedy and trying to ruin your relationship with Jasper, making you suffer, I won’t let her get away with it!” “Now that you’re pregnant, it’s our family’s responsibility. If you don’t want to stay at our place, I’ll move in with you instead.” “Mrs. Thompson, this…” “It’s settled then!” I’d heard from Jasper before that his mother was quite headstrong, and now I was experiencing it firsthand. Calling the movers, packing up, loading the truck – the whole process was seamlessly executed. I was whisked away to the Thompsons’ five-story mansion in the middle of the night. Jasper wasn’t home, but his grandmother and father were there. When I got out of the car, both elders were waiting at the front door, which made me feel a bit embarrassed. “Hello, Grandma. Hello, Mr. Thompson.” I greeted them politely. Mr. Thompson smiled and nodded at me. “Oh, hello, hello! Come here, dear.” Grandma Thompson warmly beckoned me over. Seeing that the elderly lady was using a cane, I quickly went to support her. The old lady held my hand as we walked into the mansion. The interior decor was absolutely extravagant, with a European palace style. Once again, I was acutely aware of the vast difference between Jasper and me. His family lived in a five-story mansion in the city center, while mine lived in an old, run-down apartment in the suburbs. His father was a CEO, while mine was an alcoholic taxi driver with a gambling problem. His mother was a renowned dancer, while mine was a supermarket clerk who only cared about her son. Two people from such different worlds, brought together just because we caught each other’s eye at a friend’s birthday party – looking back, it all seemed so naive. Not to mention that Jasper was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, standing at 6’2″ with sharp features. I’d heard from friends that Jasper had been the campus heartthrob during his school days. What made me feel most inferior wasn’t the stark economic difference between our families, but the contrast in family atmospheres. The Thompson family was warm and loving, while my family members only thought about how to squeeze every last penny out of me for their precious son. A bitter smile crossed my lips, but Mrs. Thompson’s words brought me back to reality. “Darling, you must be exhausted. Why don’t you go upstairs and rest? Your room is on the second floor. I’ve prepared everything for you.” Mrs. Thompson took my hand and led me to the room. “What do you think? Do you like it?” Mrs. Thompson smiled at me. The moment the door opened, I was truly amazed. It was an Instagram-worthy princess room, all in pink and white, completely fulfilling my childhood fantasies. There was also a huge wardrobe filled with various Barbie dolls and stuffed animals. When I was little, I loved Barbie dolls. Every year on my birthday, I would wish for my mom to buy me one. But my birthday wishes were never fulfilled, not even once. She would only buy limited edition Lego sets for my brother, never remembering my existence. A mix of sadness and gratitude welled up inside me. My eyes reddened, and I couldn’t speak as I looked at Mrs. Thompson. “Silly girl, why are you crying? I had this hastily arranged. Do you like it? If not, we can change it.” “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson,” I choked out. “No need to thank me, it’s what we should do. To be honest, I truly like you. Regardless of what happens between you and Jasper, I want to treat you like my own daughter. Jane, could you stop calling me Mrs. Thompson? Would you call me Mom instead?” She said the last part so carefully. I couldn’t bear to refuse, especially since Mrs. Thompson had been so kind to me. Although it was probably for the baby’s sake, I was still very grateful to her. “Mom,” I said softly. “Yes, dear!” Mrs. Thompson beamed with joy. “Now go and rest. I’ll have someone bring up some warm milk later. Drink it and get some sleep. I’ll be right next door if you need anything, okay?” That night, I slept more peacefully than I had in a long time. The next morning, after breakfast, I was taking a stroll in the Thompsons’ garden. The garden was full of roses planted by Mrs. Thompson, romantic and gentle. “Jane! What are you doing here?!” A sharp female voice, barely containing anger, interrupted my peaceful moment. I turned to see Ann carrying several bags of nutritional supplements, probably here to visit the Thompson elders. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation,” I replied. Ann stormed towards me, gritting her teeth as she said, “Did you not listen to what I told you last time? If you keep shamelessly clinging to Jasper, don’t blame me for not being polite!” “Oh? That’s quite a bold statement, Miss Brown. I’d like to see who dares to bully my daughter-in-law right in front of me!” Mr. Thompson’s authoritative voice rang out, accompanied by his stern face. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson had appeared without me noticing. Mrs. Thompson walked over and put her arm around my shoulders, frowning as she looked at Ann. “Uncle, I didn’t mean…” Ann said pitifully. “Hmph.” Mr. Thompson let out a cold snort. “Jane, come inside with me. We have something to discuss. Miss Brown, you should come in too. There are some things we need to clear up with you.” We all went into the house together. Grandma Thompson seemed to be waiting for us in the living room. I sat down next to Mrs. Thompson, and then the three elders simultaneously took out something. What they said next left me completely stunned. Grandma Thompson: “Granddaughter-in-law, these are our family’s heirloom jade jewelry, passed down to each generation’s bride.” Mrs. Thompson: “Daughter-in-law, keep this black card safe. All our family’s money is managed by the women.” Mr. Thompson: “Daughter-in-law, this is an agreement to transfer some company shares. Please sign it. If you think it’s not enough, we can add more!” Finally, Mrs. Thompson said, “This is just a small token of our appreciation. We hope you’ll accept it.” She patted my hand gently. “Mrs… Mom, these things are too valuable,” I said, quickly correcting myself when I saw Mrs. Thompson’s hurt expression. “Sweetheart, it’s nothing. This is what our family should do. Don’t be shy! As for some people, they shouldn’t have any improper thoughts!” Grandma Thompson said slowly, clearly hinting at Ann. Ann’s face turned red, but she didn’t dare say anything. “Also, we elders have discussed and hope that you and Jasper can get married soon. Jane, when would be a good time to arrange a meeting with your parents?” Mrs. Thompson’s eyes sparkled as she spoke to me. How could I tell her that I had cut ties with my mother? How could I tell her about the dysfunction of my birth family? Just as I was hesitating, Jasper appeared. Seeing Jasper, Ann seemed to find her backbone. She immediately rushed over, grabbing his hand and saying pitifully, “Jasper, you’re finally here.” Jasper didn’t respond to her. He discreetly pulled his hand away from hers, leaving Ann standing there awkwardly. Jasper stared straight at me and said firmly, “I don’t agree to getting married. I’ll make my own decisions about my marriage.” Then he turned to Ann and said, “I’ll take you home.” I lowered my head, not wanting to see Jasper being gentle with another woman. “You little brat! If you dare walk out that door today, I’ll disown you!” Mr. Thompson shouted. Jasper paused for a moment, then left without looking back. Ann hurried after him. Jasper didn’t come back all day. To avoid me, he didn’t even want to come home. Perhaps leaving would be the better choice. I lay in bed unable to sleep, the image of Jasper leaving with Ann replaying in my mind. To distract myself, I opened my social media. The first post was from my aunt: “Congratulations to my sister on her new house, and to my nephew on his new home.” This family would be the same with or without me. I was always the extra one. I closed my eyes, letting tears soak my pillow. The next morning, I groggily opened my eyes to see someone standing by my bed holding a breakfast tray. It startled me, but it was just Jasper. I don’t know how long he had been standing there. I thought he had come to make amends, but I was wrong. “Mom said pregnant women sleep a lot, so she asked me to check if you were awake. Now that you’re up, eat your breakfast. We need to talk after.” He had stubble on his chin and looked tired. While I ate breakfast, Jasper sat nearby staring out the window, his brows furrowed. I swallowed the last bite and said, “Jasper, I’m done. What did you want to say?” “Do you really want to keep this baby?” Jasper looked at me intently, his eyes filled with emotions I couldn’t decipher. “Yes, I want to keep it.” “Hah, Jane. Do you think keeping this baby will guarantee you a comfortable life? You’re quite the schemer, aren’t you? It must have been exhausting pretending around me for so long.” Jasper’s words infuriated me. “Jasper Thompson! I never planned to tell you about the baby in the first place. Don’t worry, isn’t this what you wanted? To get rid of me? You don’t have to say it, I was planning to leave today anyway! I won’t stay here and bother you anymore!” “Get out of my way.” I pushed past Jasper and started throwing clothes into my suitcase. Jasper stood motionless, but I could see from the corner of my eye that his fists were clenched tightly, veins popping out. Our commotion alerted Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. “Jane, what are you doing?” Mrs. Thompson took the clothes from my hands, stopping my actions. Jasper and I were both too angry to speak. Mr. Thompson’s gaze swept over the luggage on the floor, then turned to Jasper, his face dropping. “Jasper Thompson! Did you upset Jane?!” Mr. Thompson shouted. “Not talking, huh? Maria, bring me my cane. If I don’t teach this boy a lesson today, he’ll never learn how to be a decent person!” “Honey, stay with Jane. Jasper, get out here!” Mr. Thompson dragged Jasper out by his collar. Jasper had told me before that his father was a strict parent. When he was young, he often got disciplined, but after his teenage years, Mr. Thompson had never raised a hand to him again. Mr. Thompson must have been truly angry today. Mr. Thompson’s trust in me provided a small comfort, but Jasper’s hurtful words still pierced my heart like a knife. Maybe it was because of the pregnancy, but I felt more emotional than usual. Large tears rolled down my cheeks. Mrs. Thompson hugged me tenderly, gently patting my back. She said, “Jane, don’t be upset. It’s all that silly boy’s fault. I’ll make him apologize to you! He’ll kneel on durian if he has to! Later, I’ll show you his embarrassing childhood photos. If he dares to upset you again, we’ll post them on social media and let him lose face!” I was crying and hiccuping, but Mrs. Thompson’s words touched my heart. Putting Jasper aside, having such a mother-in-law would truly be a blessing. That afternoon, while taking a walk in the park with Mrs. Thompson, I once again brought up the idea of moving out. Mrs. Thompson refused to agree no matter what. In the end, we both compromised. I would continue to stay with the Thompsons, but I wouldn’t accept the gifts they had given me. Jasper and I had already broken up, and I couldn’t accept things from his family without a clear status. Mrs. Thompson couldn’t persuade me otherwise, so she had to compromise, saying she would keep the gifts for me until Jasper and I got married. Jasper and I… could we really get married? That night when I entered my room, I found that my bed had been changed to a bunk bed. Was Mrs. Thompson planning to move in and sleep with me? The next second, Jasper walked in with a sour face. “I’m sorry. You’re pregnant now, so you shouldn’t get too emotional.” What a half-hearted apology. “It’s nothing. I’m leaving.” Jasper yanked the door open. “Ouch!” Mrs. Thompson, who had been eavesdropping outside, nearly fell over. “Mom, what are you doing?” “Smack!” A crisp sound as Mrs. Thompson’s hand landed on Jasper’s back. “Jasper Thompson, can’t you be more sincere?!” “And where do you think you’re going? Starting today, you’ll be sharing a room with Jane.” “What?!” Jasper and I exclaimed simultaneously. “You don’t need to go to the company for now. Just focus on taking good care of Jane.” “No way! I refuse!” Jasper reacted strongly. “If you don’t accept it, then get out!” “Fine, fine, I’ll leave. I wonder who’s really your child here!” His tone sounded almost hurt and jealous. Jasper really did leave, and he didn’t show up for several weeks. Days passed uneventfully. During my time with the Thompson family, I deeply felt the warmth of a loving home. Mrs. Thompson prepared nutritious meals for me every day, always trying new recipes. Grandma Thompson and Mrs. Thompson, afraid I might get bored, kept me company with flower arranging, chess, chatting, and walks. Mr. Thompson, though more serious, also cared about me, often bringing home various nutritional supplements. I became increasingly attached to this place, not wanting to leave. But I knew it was impossible, especially since Jasper seemed to dislike me so much. Thinking of this, I let out a helpless sigh. “Jane, what are you thinking about?” Mrs. Thompson asked. “Nothing,” I said with a smile, shaking my head. “Then why don’t you come with me for a spa day this afternoon!” “Sure.” It wasn’t until we arrived at the beauty salon that I realized Mrs. Thompson wasn’t here for a spa treatment at all. She was here to introduce me to the family! Jasper’s aunts and female relatives sat in a row, smiling at me. The feeling of being scrutinized by a group of wealthy ladies – who could understand! “Jane, this is Jasper’s eldest aunt.” “Hello, Eldest Aunt.” “This is Jasper’s second aunt.” “Hello, Second Aunt.” “This is Jasper’s…” … Mrs. Thompson led me through a round of greetings. I smiled and nodded the whole time, my face almost cramping. By the end of it, I had not only become familiar with everyone but also received a stack of red envelopes. During this time, I endured many exaggerated compliments.

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After seven years of marriage, Hudson Johnson removed the video of our wedding announcement from his streaming platform. He insisted, “To reassure my sweetheart, let me clarify once more: Sorry, I’ve always been single.” Meanwhile, his assistant’s account shared a photo with the caption: “Mom and Dad are really looking forward to your arrival.” In the photo, a man’s hand gently caresses her belly, as if it were fragile. I noticed the black mole on the man’s ring finger and pulled my daughter into my arms. “Sweetie, how about I find you a new dad?” My daughter nodded and then took the phone to comment: [Auntie, since my dad has a new baby, I should have a new dad too.] After typing, Stella turned around and hugged me, her small body warming me. “Mom, I’m here, I’ll always be with you.” Before I could even settle my emotions, Hudson Johnson called, ready to berate me. “Avery Johnson, haven’t you had enough? What are you teaching Stella this time?” “I’ve told you countless times, the relationship with Scarlett Lee is for the company’s image. When will you stop?” “Besides, you’re a mother now, still competing and being jealous every day. Do you really think you’re still young? Avery Johnson, you’re disgusting.” As soon as I answered, Hudson Johnson’s accusations came crashing down. I tightened my grip on the phone, a mocking look in my eyes. After seven years of marriage with Hudson Johnson, I know him too well. The louder he talks, the angrier he seems, the guiltier he actually is. I took a deep breath and asked, “Does your company need to fabricate a relationship to the point of causing a real-life scandal?” It was just a simple question, but on the other end, a woman’s sobbing came through. “Brother Johnson, you don’t need to explain for me anymore. If Sister Avery doesn’t like me, I’ll resign now.” Scarlett Lee’s pitiful act made Hudson Johnson instantly angry, “Don’t worry about her, you’re my assistant. Without my consent, let’s see who dares to fire you!” “Avery, if you keep involving Stella in your antics, don’t blame me for being harsh.” With that, without waiting for me to respond, Hudson abruptly hung up the phone. His cold voice still echoed in the room, scaring Stella. As I looked at the phone’s dark screen, my heart was calm. In the past, I would have made a scene at Hudson Johnson’s company, forcing him to fire Scarlett Lee. But now, there’s no need. Just like Stella said, if Hudson Johnson can have another child, then I, Avery Johnson, can find another partner. After all, my first love, Mason Carter, has returned to the country.

In the evening, after his streaming session, Hudson Johnson came back. Seeing Stella and me eating, he went to the kitchen as usual but didn’t find the soup I used to make for him. “Avery, where’s my soup?” Without looking up, I gave Stella a piece of meat and told her to eat quickly. Seeing my indifference, Hudson Johnson’s face darkened, “Avery, you know my stomach isn’t good!” Hearing this, I paused, showing a bit of sarcasm. Yes, I know he has a sensitive stomach, and with his streaming job, he can’t eat on time, so for seven years, I’ve made him a pot of nourishing soup every day. But what did he do? He gave my carefully prepared soup to Scarlett Lee, saying next time not to make it so salty because she doesn’t like it. “So what?” I lifted my eyelids and said calmly, “If your stomach isn’t good, take care of it. If you want soup, cook it yourself. I’m not your nanny.” After speaking, I began cleaning up the dishes, heading to the kitchen. Unexpectedly, as I passed Hudson Johnson, he grabbed my wrist, full of impatience. “Avery, what do you really want? Even mischief should have its limits!” I broke free from his grip, a cold smile on my lips, and said calmly: “I want a divorce.” Hudson Johnson’s hand froze for a moment, a trace of panic on his face, but he quickly returned to normal, releasing me with a sneer: “You’ve got some nerve now, daring to threaten me with divorce. Divorce, are you sure?” “Avery, do you really think you’re still young? You have a 5-year-old child, who would want you after divorcing me?” So, this is his reason for cheating? He figured I, having married and had a child, couldn’t remarry and could only depend on him. It’s absurd. I gave Hudson Johnson a deep look, then took Stella and turned to leave. Perhaps angered by me, Hudson Johnson didn’t come home for a week. This has always been his method after I upset him, using silent treatment to force me to comply. In the past, I would’ve been tormented, unable to sleep, calling to apologize tirelessly, sending gifts in his streaming room, humbly begging for forgiveness. But now, I’m busy moving into a new home, buying furniture, indifferent to whether he comes home or not. After all, I can’t still live in his house after divorcing him. At the furniture store. I was feeling the texture of a sofa when a familiar female voice reached my ears. “Oh, I’m so grateful to Brother Johnson for being here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know what to do.” “What is everyone saying? What new couple buying furniture? I haven’t even confessed to Brother Johnson yet. Stop it, everyone, Scarlett’s shy~” It’s a small world.

Hearing Scarlett Lee’s pretentious voice, I frowned. Stella quickly ran over. “Stella, what are you doing here?” Turning around, I met Hudson Johnson’s face full of disgust. He frowned, grabbed Stella’s collar, and pushed her toward me, his tone full of disdain. “Avery, is it fun to stalk with Stella?” I steadied the stumbling Stella without explaining. A dirty heart sees everything as filthy. Hudson Johnson is sure I’d do such a low thing, so how could he listen to my explanation? I gave him a cold glance and asked: “Is it fun for you to avoid home and shop with another woman?” Hudson Johnson didn’t expect my usual silent obedience to turn into defiance, his eyes flickered. “Scarlett rented a new place. She’s a young girl who can’t choose furniture. As her boss, taking care of her and helping her pick furniture isn’t a big deal, right?” I looked at their interlocked fingers, my expression calm, and asked lightly: “So holding hands is necessary?” Hearing this, Hudson Johnson was stunned, hurriedly releasing their hands. His eyes flickered, his tone urgent, “It’s not what you think.” “Scarlett isn’t like you. Her health isn’t good, so with all the people around, I had to hold her hand to prevent her from getting hurt.” It’s not poor health, but pregnant, right? Looking at Hudson Johnson, who was cautiously watching me, I didn’t react as he expected, just chuckled softly. “You’re right; Scarlett Lee’s health is important.” Seeing me so calm, Hudson Johnson looked surprised. He seemed to want to explain more, but I interrupted, “Go ahead and pick your furniture. Don’t keep Scarlett waiting.” With that, I took Stella and prepared to leave. Unexpectedly, Scarlett Lee followed with a streaming phone. She gently caressed her belly with her left hand, smiling softly, her eyes showing a hint of triumph. Scarlett Lee squatted down, placing Stella’s hand on her belly. “Stella, do you want to see your little brother?” I darkened my expression, pulling Stella back, “She doesn’t have a brother.” “Really?” Scarlett Lee smiled faintly, leaning closer, “But I’m also carrying Hudson Johnson’s child.” Sensing something wrong, I wanted to back away, but Scarlett Lee had already retreated, sitting on the floor. Before I could react, a slap struck my face, my head hitting the corner of a solid wood display table, making me black out. Hudson Johnson rushed over, carefully helping Scarlett Lee up, yelling at me: “Avery Johnson, when will you stop your madness!”

“Mom!” Faced with this sudden change, Stella turned pale, rushing over to cover my forehead. Seeing the blood on her hand, her small hands trembled with anger, her little face taut as she looked at Hudson Johnson, “Apologize to Mom!” Hudson Johnson sneered, his eyes full of indifference, “Apologize? Your mom Avery is the one who should apologize. If anything happens to Scarlett, I won’t forgive her.” Scarlett Lee’s face was tear-streaked, looking considerate, a fleeting hint of smugness in her eyes, but she said: “Brother Johnson, don’t say that. I’m sure Sister didn’t mean to push me. Don’t be mad at her because of me…” “But, Brother, our child…” Hearing Scarlett Lee’s sobs, Hudson Johnson became even angrier, glaring at me. I felt his hatred, but my vision was still blurry, my chest tight and breathless. Stella couldn’t stand my humiliation, knowing the truth, she rushed over and pointed at Scarlett Lee to argue. “You’re lying, I saw it all. You fell by yourself.” “Liar, I hate you…” Before she could finish, I saw Hudson Johnson clench his fist. My heart tightened, and I used all my strength, my voice hoarse:

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I thought Ashton Bennett loved me intensely during our five years of marriage. Until the night Macy Hart, my half-sister, returned to the country. Ashton left me at home and went to the airport to pick her up. He didn’t come back that night. Early the following day, Macy posted a picture on her Instagram burner account: “When you’re with the right person, every day feels like Valentine’s Day.” The accompanying photo? Macy and Ashton are kissing and surrounded by his circle of friends, celebrating. Content After work, I grabbed dinner at a restaurant downtown and strolled through Riverfront Park. I delayed going home until it was completely dark. When I got back, the lights were on. Ashton was home—a rare sight these days. He took my coat and bag and hung them on the rack. “Why are you home so late?” he asked. “Did you eat yet? I can make you some noodles.” I used to be the one saying those lines and doing those things. Who was he performing for now? My voice was cold. “I have a meeting tomorrow. Don’t bother.” I caught a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt? Discomfort? It only made me feel more disgusted. Was this his attempt to make amends after sneaking off with Macy to a hotel last night? I headed straight for the guest room. Ashton grabbed my wrist. “Lila, about last night…” I turned around. The dim light from the hallway highlighted his pale face, beads of cold sweat glistening on his forehead. His usually sharp jawline was rough with stubble. For years, I adored that face. Now, it only repulsed me. Love and its absence—how starkly different they feel. I didn’t let him finish. I walked into the guest room, shutting the door in his face. Last night, I painstakingly prepared a special dinner and even reminded him to come home early. He had no idea I planned to tell him I was pregnant. But instead, he took a phone call, claimed he had to work late, and left for the night. I waited for him in silence, sitting on the couch until dawn. The dishes I’d cooked remained untouched, cold. The ice cream cake I ordered weeks ago sat in its box, melting into a sticky puddle on the floor. As I decided to clean up, my phone pinged with a notification. It was a post from a burner Instagram account I didn’t recognize, one of Ashton’s followers. The account posted a live picture just minutes ago: “When you’re with the right person, every day feels like Valentine’s Day.” The photo was of Ashton kissing Macy. His friends, all cheering, surrounded them. Those friends—five years of marriage, and I had never met them. Whenever I tried to join his social circle, he would brush me off, calling them mere drinking buddies. That night, I scrolled through every post-Macy had ever shared. It was all there—photos, captions, proof. They had been meeting behind my back for years. In her posts, Ashton was caring, attentive, and generous—willing to give her the world. This side of him was a stranger to me.

The guest room door creaked open. Before I could react, Ashton wrapped his arms around me, his body hot against mine. My skin prickled with revulsion as nausea climbed up my throat. His hand slid down my back, fingers restless and invasive. I shoved him off with all my strength, grabbed a pillow, and stormed out of the room. He stood frozen for a moment, his expression unreadable in the shadows. We grew up together in the same close-knit community. Our parents were lifelong friends, and our bond was unshakable. The summer after sophomore year in college, he confessed his feelings. We started dating soon after. But that same year, my father came home with the news: a mix-up at the hospital years ago. The daughter he brought home wasn’t his biological child—Macy was. Macy entered our lives, delicate and teary-eyed, clinging to my father like a lifeline. “Dad, why is she still here? Don’t you love me?” she sobbed. “Sorry, sis,” she whimpered, voice trembling with practiced innocence. “I know I’m intruding. I’ll go if you want me to leave—no matter how hard it gets out there. I’m used to suffering.” My father, overcome with guilt, told me to leave instead. I laughed bitterly, packed the savings my mother left behind, and walked out. A year later, Macy showed up at my university, courtesy of my father’s connections. She played nice on the surface but undermined me at every turn. She sabotaged my friendships and got my graduate scholarship offer rescinded using my father’s influence. She even got me evicted from my dorm. Her petty schemes didn’t faze me—I refused to waste energy on someone so cheap. I believed I had something she could never take: Ashton. Macy relentlessly pursued him, even publicly confessing her feelings. She cozied up to his friends, tried to learn his routines, and orchestrated run-ins on campus. On Instagram, she chronicled her infatuation, obsessively documenting every interaction. Ashton dismissed her as clingy and pathetic, openly humiliating her more than once. For three years, Macy stuck to him like glue.

I once thought she genuinely loved Ashton. That was until she smugly declared, “Sis, I’m going to take everything you have—starting with Ashton.” I brushed her off. I had no doubt Ashton loved me. Our bond was built on years of trust and affection. When I was kicked out of my dorm, he rented me a penthouse apartment near campus for a year. He remembered all my preferences, waited in line overnight for a Coachella ticket so I could get a front-row spot, and handled all the logistics for our ski trips. All I had to do was enjoy the scenery. I trusted him completely. Macy’s games could never shake that. After graduation, Macy disappeared without a word. I thought her obsession with Ashton was finally over. Then came the photo on Instagram. Her second year of chasing him was when things began to change. He started looking at her differently. Sitting in the living room that night, the air felt thick, suffocating. Ashton buried his face in his hands, silent. “What’s wrong with you?” He didn’t answer, so I pressed. “Explain last night.” “I told you, I was working late! Why are you so jealous all the time? This is why our relationship is strained—you don’t take any responsibility for your behavior!” I laughed, hollow and bitter. Once, I thought Ashton was the most honest, loyal, moral man in the world. I never checked his phone or questioned where he went. He always volunteered the details. I realized those updates were just excuses for sneaking around with Macy. He played on my trust, and I fell for it repeatedly. His voice grew harsher. “Do you want me to call everyone from work right now so you can interrogate them? Would that make you happy?” I felt drained. What was the point? Even if I uncovered the truth, the betrayal was already a wound too deep to heal.

Years of trust shattered overnight. It hurt, but I knew clinging to illusions would only worsen it. Facing the truth and letting go was the only real choice. Frustrated by my silent treatment, Ashton slammed the door and left the house, his face dark with anger. I didn’t care. I focused on work. A few years ago, my father was diagnosed with leukemia. His health rapidly declined, and so did the company’s finances. “The company’s cash flow has dried up,” he confessed. “It’s on the verge of collapse.” At that moment, I realized how trivial grudges and betrayals seemed in the face of life and death. Despite his faults, my father had raised me for eighteen years. I took over the failing company, juggling work demands and his hospital care. It was exhausting. On the other hand, Macy left the country and never came back to check on him—or anyone else. One morning, I dressed quickly to avoid running into Ashton, but luck wasn’t on my side. Stepping out of the bedroom, I saw him standing in the kitchen, smiling as if nothing had happened the night before. He gestured toward the table. “Come have breakfast.” His eyes lingered on my arm, and he silently handed me a custom-made long-sleeve shirt. He had ordered so many of these over the past five years, all to hide the scar on my left arm. It was from a fire during a trip overseas. A restaurant caught fire, and Ashton fainted from smoke inhalation. I had already escaped, but I went back to save him. A burst light fixture exploded, leaving my arm with a severe burn.

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My roommate likes to take cold showers on the porch balcony. She claims it helps detox her body and brightens her skin. I tried to warn her: “You really should protect your privacy.” Not only did she ignore me, but she doubled down, accusing me of being jealous of her figure. Eventually, photos of her showering were posted online. Some street punks came to our dorm to harass her, threatening to strip her clothes off. She pointed the finger at me, saying, “It’s her! She’s the shameless one showering out on the balcony!” I was dragged into Willowshade Park by those punks and violated until death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back the same day she started taking cold showers on the porch. …… Content “Juliette, can you grab my body wash? It’s on my desk.” “I’m busy showering. Not convenient.” Lyric Ashcroft, my roommate, was on the porch balcony, soaking in cold water and basking in the sunlight with an ecstatic expression on her face. Harper Hall Dorms wasn’t tall—just three floors. Down below, people came and went, and anyone glancing up could see Lyric’s display fully. But Lyric didn’t care. Instead, she twisted her body even more provocatively as if she wanted the world to admire her figure. The neighboring building housed the boys’ dorm. Some guys deliberately wandered past just to steal a glance at her. Watching Lyric flaunt herself like this made me tremble with rage. I wanted to storm out there and strangle her. The scene was identical to what I had witnessed in my previous life. I suppressed the fury bubbling inside me. Now wasn’t the time to act. Killing her would be too easy. I needed her to suffer the consequences of her actions—that was the only way to quench my burning hatred. Expressionless, I grabbed the bottle of body wash from her desk. So you love showering on the balcony? Fine. You’ll shower to your heart’s content. In my previous life, Lyric had come across a blog post claiming that cold showers followed by sunbathing helped detox the body, brighten the skin, and even achieve a perfect tan. She believed it wholeheartedly and began copying the routine. At first, she took cold showers in the dorm bathroom, wrapping herself in a towel to sunbathe on the porch afterward. That was somewhat understandable. But then she decided it was too much hassle. She installed a makeshift shower on the porch so she could wash and sunbathe simultaneously, claiming it was the most efficient detox method. Sunbathing in itself isn’t a big deal. But our dorm was on the third floor, and the porch had a clear glass railing. Anyone passing by could see her. While most people used the porch to dry clothes, Lyric used it to put herself on display. Worried she’d attract unwanted attention, I once threw a towel over her and dragged her inside. I tried to warn her that showering outside was a privacy risk and could invite trouble from the wrong people. Lyric just sneered and yanked off the towel. “If they’re only looking at me and not anyone else, doesn’t that prove I’m attractive?” she said smugly. “It’s the 21st century, Juliette. Are you some Victorian prude? Get with the times.” “And honestly? You’re just jealous because my body’s better than yours.” I was speechless at her twisted logic and could only let her continue her balcony antics. Eventually, someone uploaded photos of her to the Campus Buzz Board. Though her face was blurred, the rest of her body was straightforward. The photos caused a massive stir. Everyone speculated about who the girl was. Some guys even made crude jokes about bringing telescopes to the dorms for a better view. Soon, groups of male students—and even punks from off-campus—crowded below our dorm. It disrupted everyone’s lives. The uproar angered the female students, who banded together in protest.

The girls ranted in the WhatsApp Group, calling her shameless and indecent and accusing her of trying to steal their boyfriends. Lyric, furious, taunted them back, saying they were plain, unattractive, and lacked charm. “If your boyfriend leaves you for me, that’s your problem, not mine,” she snapped. Someone screenshotted her toxic remarks and shared them on MyCampus Forum and TikTok. The scandal grew, trending online as more and more people took sides. The outrage was fierce. Female students formed the Campus Conduct Task Force, vowing to expose and humiliate the girl in the photos. Before they could act, a gang of punks showed up at our dorm, demanding that the girl in the photos spend the night with them. Sensing danger, Lyric panicked. She pointed at me to save herself, accusing me, “It’s her! She’s the one showering on the balcony!” She even claimed I was the one who made nasty comments in the WhatsApp Group, using my account to post them without my knowledge. Before I could explain, the punks dragged me to Willowshade Park. Desperate, I begged our other roommate, Quinn Langley, to help me. Quinn coldly sided with Lyric. “Juliette, don’t try to blame this on Lyric. Own up to what you’ve done.” “At most, they’ll strip you. It’s not the end of the world.” “You need to take responsibility for your actions.” And so, I was dragged into the woods, violated until death, and left naked on the street like garbage. Passersby spat on my body, calling me disgusting, while my corpse rotted in the open. Lyric, untouched, posted an apology on my behalf, claiming she had tried to help me reform. The comments praised her while cursing me. Lyric became a viral content creator, landing brand deals left and right. Meanwhile, I was left to decay, forgotten and unloved. But fate gave me another chance. This time, I’ll make sure Lyric Ashcroft and Quinn Langley pay. “Juliette? What’s taking so long? Bring it here!” Snapped from my thoughts, I smiled faintly and handed her the body wash. “Here you go. Take your time. You said the longer you wash and sunbathe, the better the results, right? Make it even.” Lyric grabbed the bottle, pleased, and began lathering herself. “Juliette, do you think my skin looks better these days?” she asked, rubbing her arms. I glanced at the bustling crowd below. Morning classes had just ended, and the area was packed. “Definitely,” I said. “Cold showers and sunlight are magical for detoxing. Your skin’s glowing, and you’re more radiant than ever.” Flattered, Lyric became even more enthusiastic. She crouched, spreading her legs to wash herself intimately, entirely oblivious to the phones aimed at her from the boys’ dorm across the way. In my last life, her face was blurred in the photos, allowing her to blame me. Not this time. “Lyric!” I called loudly. “Do you need a towel?” Startled, she turned to look at me. The cameras caught her face, and her name was soon whispered among the growing crowd below. “She’s Lyric Ashcroft?” “Man, what a slut.” “She looks more like a working girl than a student.”

The whispers and stares from the crowd below reached Lyric’s ears, and her face turned pale. “Juliette! You did this on purpose, didn’t you? All those people downstairs—are you trying to humiliate me?” So, she does feel shame. It’s good to know she’s not entirely shameless. Maybe her attempt to pin everything on me in my previous life wasn’t just an accident. Feigning innocence, I said, “I was just worried you’d catch a chill from staying out here too long. Why would I try to humiliate you?” “You’re so magnetic, Lyric. Even showering gets you an audience. Just look at those guys—they can’t take their eyes off you.” “If I had your perfect body, I’d probably shower here too.” The words tasted bitter, and I barely stopped myself from gagging. Lyric, however, was flattered. She gave a smug, slight hum and kept on washing. “Well, of course, I have that effect.” Then she gave me a once-over, her tone dripping with disdain. “You? Please. You’re flat as a board. Even if you stripped naked, no one would bother looking.” I curled my lips into a faint smile but didn’t respond. Go ahead, Lyric. Laugh while you can. Her photos were plastered all over the Campus Buzz Board by the next day. The accompanying comments were merciless: “Hey, girl, how about maintaining a little dignity? Stop flaunting yourself.” “Does the college not have showers? Why the balcony?” “Most of us have partners here. Are you trying to tempt someone’s boyfriend?” “Cover yourself up. Don’t you feel gross?” Zooming in on the photo, I saw it was like in my last life—Lyric crouched, washing herself intimately, her face blurred out. The post caused an uproar in the WhatsApp Group, with some students even overhearing her name being mentioned near the dorms. Female students were outraged, calling her behavior disgraceful and immoral. The male students, meanwhile, reveled in the chaos, egging it on. “Free show, you all. Time to call up the squad!” “She’s a Modern Saint! Who needs to pay outside when she’s offering it for free here?” “Y’all just jealous of her figure.” The group was divided entirely. I casually handed my phone to Lyric, feigning concern. “Lyric, maybe it’s time to stop showering on the balcony.” “Sure, your skin looks amazing and gorgeous, but this kind of attention isn’t great. People are upset.” “Why not shower downstairs and come back up to sunbathe? Same results.” Lyric, seething as she scrolled through the comments, hurled my phone to the floor, then stormed around the dorm in a rage. “You conniving witch! Those jealous cows can’t stand that I’m prettier than them!” “They’re just ugly! Picking on me for no reason!” “Yes, I have an amazing body. Yes, I’m stunning! No matter how much they hate me, it doesn’t change the facts!” I calmly picked up my phone and patted her shoulder. “You’re right, you know. You’re just taking a shower. You’ve done nothing wrong.” “And look, you’ve got so many guys defending you. That’s your charm working its magic.” Lyric’s anger subsided slightly. “But maybe it’s better not to fight them,” I continued, gently fanning the flames. “Let it go?” Lyric took the bait, stomping her foot. “Let it go? Why should I? I’ve done nothing wrong! They’re the ones starting this!” She snatched at my phone, but I’d already set a password. “Stupid phone!” she fumed. I quickly reclaimed it. If she used my phone again, I’d be in trouble.

Frustrated, Lyric stormed off to Quinn Langley for help. “Quinn! Juliette is the worst!” “She won’t defend me in the group chat, even after all the hate I’m getting. And she won’t let me borrow her phone!” “If I could log in, I’d handle it myself!” She added a pitiful pout, her eyes glistening with fake tears. Naturally, Quinn fell for it. Quinn, our dorm leader and head of the college arts committee, loved bossing people around. She already disliked me for refusing to run her errands, which had made her and Lyric inseparable allies. If Lyric wanted something, Quinn was the first to help. She even bought Lyric the shower kit for her balcony antics. As expected, Quinn took Lyric’s side. “Juliette, what’s the big deal? Just let her use your phone!” “If you won’t speak up for her, fine, but setting a password? Seriously?” I smirked, grabbed Quinn’s phone, and handed it to Lyric. “You two are so close—why don’t you use her phone?” “Go ahead, Lyric. Quinn’s in the group chat, too. Use hers to respond.” “Show them who’s boss.” Quinn froze between anger and reluctance as Lyric gleefully took her phone. Lyric’s eyes gleamed as she launched into the chat: “Wow, so sensitive. If you’re that insecure about your age, maybe consider some cosmetic treatments.” “Can’t keep your boyfriend interested? Maybe that’s your problem for being boring and ugly.” “Let’s face it—you’re just jealous. Even if you stripped down, no one would care.” The chat exploded. Lyric felt vindicated, but Quinn began to panic as her notifications piled up with angry messages and threats. “Why’d you let her use my phone?!” she hissed. Feigning innocence, I shrugged. “Quinn, how could you say that? She’s your best friend. Why wouldn’t you let her use it?” Quinn fell silent, forced to leave the group in humiliation. But it didn’t end there. That night, the group chat leaked Lyric’s inflammatory messages and her uncensored photos online. By the following day, her antics on the porch balcony and her nasty comments had gone viral, making the rounds on TikTok and MyCampus Forum. That afternoon, our dorm door rattled with angry knocks. A swarm of female students crowded outside, their shouts echoing through the hall: “Get out here, you trashy little skank! You’re done!” “You had plenty to say in the chat—why are you hiding now?” “We’ll make sure you regret it!” Lyric turned pale as a sheet. From my bed, I stretched lazily, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Lyric sounds like they’re here for you,” I said. “Shouldn’t you go see what they want?” I nudged her lightly. She shrank back, trembling, and clung to Quinn. Lyric was all bark and no bite—a coward through and through. “Juliette, I’m scared! Can’t you check for me?” Like in my previous life, she tried pushing me into the fire.

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After Three Years of Caring for the Simple-Minded Prince, He Recovered The first thing he did was get engaged to his childhood sweetheart. I went to find him with a box of cash to cut off our relationship. He smiled and stuffed a wad of money into my hand, raising an eyebrow: “Seduction requires capital too.” 0I stared at the diagnosis in my hand, stunned for a long time. In the past, I wanted to die so badly, but attempts at cutting my wrists, jumping off buildings, and hanging myself all left me with a breath of life. Now that I finally had hope for living, heaven played such a cruel joke on me. After leaving the hospital, I kept thinking. If I died, what would happen to Summer? Summer was the simple-minded man I had taken in three years ago. If I died, what would happen to him? With a heavy heart, I returned home. The door was wide open, and my heart skipped a beat. A man in a suit stood in the room, smiling as he said: “Miss Evans, let’s have a chat.” “Summer.” Before I could finish, he opened the box on the table. Lots of money. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Thank you for taking care of our young master for so long, Miss Evans. This is a token of our gratitude,” he replied. “Also, I hope you won’t spread the word about our young master’s condition.” Though he was smiling, I could sense a clear killing intent. I swallowed hard: “I don’t want the money.” “You don’t want it?” He sneered, looking me up and down. “Is it not enough?” “Or are you aiming to marry into the Pierce family?” I was stunned for a moment. Just as I was about to speak, he handed me a business card. “If the money’s not enough, you can call the number on the front,” he said, glancing at me. “As for anything else, please keep it to yourself.” I crumpled the diagnosis in my hand, the hope for treatment dying in my heart. My only hope had been shattered. 0

Out of curiosity, I searched for the Pierce family online. The first thing I saw was Summer’s face. Everett Pierce, the crown prince of Beijing’s elite circles, heir to the Pierce family. He and I had always been worlds apart. The money in that box was more than I could earn in a lifetime. After some thought, I called the number on the business card. “Miss Evans, you’ve made up your mind so quickly?” the voice answered. I made a sound of agreement. “I don’t want this money.” “Not enough? That’s understandable. A single injection for cancer treatment costs $120,000.” “How much do you want?” My hand holding the phone trembled. “I’m not planning to get treatment.” There was silence on the other end for a moment before he spoke again: “Miss Evans, it’s not that easy to enter the Pierce family.” “Although you’ve taken care of our young master for three years, that’s not enough to qualify you to enter the Pierce family. Moreover…” “Our young master already has a fiancée.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a rope, making it hard to breathe. My voice shook as I replied: “I have no intention of becoming Mrs. Pierce.” “Nor will I tell anyone about Summer… about Everett Pierce’s condition.” “I just” “Simply don’t want to take your money.” It felt like if I took the money, my relationship with Summer would somehow be tainted. He paused for a moment. “Miss Evans, this is what you deserve. I’m just following orders, and you’re making this very difficult for me.” I wanted to say more, but the call had already been disconnected. The dim light illuminated the living room, with a bag of bottles Summer had collected still by the door. I hadn’t seen Summer when I came home from work yesterday either. After searching many places without finding him, I sat on the sofa and cried hard. Just then, Summer returned, covered in mud and carrying a sack. Seeing me cry, he panicked immediately. With a black eye, he smiled at me: “Sister, don’t cry. Look, I collected so many bottles.” “I even outran several old men to get them.” “Sister, I can support you. Please don’t be with that man, okay?” I hugged him, feeling both angry and amused. “If you run off like that again, I’ll abandon you,” I threatened. He looked at me with reddened eyes, tugging at my sleeve, saying he could collect lots and lots of bottles. Begging me not to leave him. Now, he had left. And it was he who had abandoned me. 0

Without a reason to live, there was naturally no need for treatment. I prepared to cancel my hospital admission. As I was leaving, I accidentally knocked over the clay figurine on the shelf. I glanced at it and closed the door. At the hospital, I successfully cancelled my admission, but saw Summer’s name on the inpatient list. I grabbed the nurse’s hand and asked: “Everett Pierce, is he the young master of the Pierce family?” She shook off my hand and sneered: “So what if he is?” She looked me up and down. “You think you can catch the eye of the crown prince of high society with your looks?” I didn’t dare meet her gaze and scurried away. After returning home, I took the box of money and went back to the hospital. I didn’t dare ask the nurses which room Summer was in, fearing their strange looks. I could only go floor by floor, peeking through the door cracks at the people inside. “Hey? Kaia?” I turned around, instinctively hugging the box to my chest. “Dr. Johnson.” He smiled and asked: “Here to pay the medical bills?” I shook my head. He looked surprised: “With treatment, there’s a very high chance your condition can improve.” There might be a chance of recovery, but no hope of living. “Why not get treatment if you have the money?” he asked again. I smiled bitterly: “Dr. Johnson, this money isn’t mine.” “Then whose-” I interrupted him: “Dr. Johnson, do you know which room Everett Pierce is in?” Dr. Johnson was silent for a moment before saying: “Fourth floor, second room on the left.” He patted my shoulder. “If you need any help, you can come find me.” I nodded and made my way to the fourth floor. Standing outside the room, I hesitated for a long time before knocking. The door was opened by a distinguished-looking man whom I recognized from the internet. Summer’s brother, Eric Pierce – the current head of the Pierce family. He didn’t seem surprised to see me and nodded: “Please come in.” I immediately spotted Summer lying on the hospital bed, with an elegantly dressed woman beside him. The woman was feeding Summer pieces of apple, and Summer looked at her with eyes full of tenderness. I lowered my gaze, my fingers turning white from gripping the box so tightly. Then, I slowly let go. Never mind. 0

Summer only noticed me after eating several pieces of apple. He wiped his mouth and asked: “What are you doing here?” He looked at me, his eyes cold. I instinctively took two steps back. This Summer felt so unfamiliar. Of course, he had regained his memories and was no longer the simple-minded boy who would chase after me calling “Sister”. He was now Everett Pierce – the heir to the Pierce family. I took a deep breath and opened the box. “I haven’t touched a cent of the money in here. I’m returning it to you.” Summer… Everett’s phoenix eyes curved slightly, but the smile didn’t reach them: “Then what do you want?” “The position of Mrs. Pierce?” I was shocked that he would say such a thing and looked at him in disbelief. “Do you think you’re worthy?” he said coldly, laughing. The room suddenly fell silent, with everyone’s gaze focused on me. I put down the box and fled the room. I leaned against the staircase, gasping for air, tears falling uncontrollably. “Crying?” came a familiar voice from behind. I wiped my tears and mumbled: “No.” Everett looked me up and down, smiling as he stuffed a wad of cash into my hand. He raised an eyebrow: “Eat more. Your curves have all but disappeared.” “Seduction requires capital too.” I stood frozen until his figure disappeared from sight before coming to my senses. I ran out of the hospital crying, not knowing where to go. I took out the money and stared at it for a long time. In this city, it seemed I was alone again. 04 Back home, there were broken pieces on the floor, along with many paper stars. I picked up a star and unfolded it. It read: “Sister, be happy every day!” This was the birthday gift Summer had given me. After my parents passed away, I lost all hope in life and hadn’t celebrated my birthday since. When I found Summer, he was lying in an alley, covered in blood. Out of sympathy, I brought him home. When he woke up, I realized he was simple-minded. But he was very obedient, sweetly calling me “Sister” and clinging to me. He became like a pillar of support for me in this unfamiliar city. Supporting me to keep living. I named him Summer. I had thought about sending him back to his family. So I took him to the police station and registered his information. He was well-behaved the whole way, until I was about to leave. He tugged at my sleeve, his eyes reddening: “Sister, are you going to abandon me?” I pulled my hand away, smiling as I said: “Sister’s going to buy Summer some candy. Be good and wait for me, okay?” He sat on the chair like an abandoned puppy, watching his owner leave with sad eyes. I thought that would be our farewell. But three days later, I ran into Summer rummaging through garbage bins on my way home from work. “Summer?” He froze for a moment before turning around, looking at me with tears in his eyes. He reached out, wanting to touch me but not daring to come closer. “Summer, why are you here?” I asked. He looked at me with reddened eyes, his voice trembling: “Sister, I’ll be very good.” “Can you… not abandon me?” It turned out he had run away from the police station the night I left. He thought I didn’t want him anymore. I hugged him, feeling both angry and heartbroken. The winter night was cold, and we two homeless children hugged each other for warmth. I once thought we would always be together. 0

The next year, I celebrated Summer’s birthday. His face was covered in cream from the cake, but he still smiled at me happily: “Sister, when is your birthday?” “December 22nd.” I thought he was just asking casually. But on that day, he carefully presented me with a clay figurine: “Sister, happy birthday!” The figurine was ugly, with “Summer loves only Kaia” carved on its belly. “Only love?” I asked him with a smile. “Do you know what that means?” Summer looked proud: “I know, it means loving only one person.” “I only love Kaia!” Now, the clay figurine with “Summer loves only Kaia” carved on it had shattered into several pieces. It couldn’t be put back together. At the time, I thought the clay figurine was all he had given me, so I put it away. I didn’t expect there was something inside. No wonder he had been sulking for days when he saw me not touching the figurine anymore. So that’s why. I unfolded another star. It read: “Let’s always be together.” At the end was a clumsily drawn heart, showing the creator’s thoughtfulness. I looked at it for a long time, my tears falling and blurring the heart on the paper. Little liar. 0

Leaves return to their roots. Now, I just wanted to go home. I sold the house. The money was just enough to buy a plot in the cemetery to be buried with my parents. I sold the bag of bottles Summer had collected. It totaled $16.50. “How can I support you with so little money?” I muttered to myself. The paperwork was done. In two days, I could leave this heartbreaking place. But the day before I was to leave, an unexpected visitor arrived. “Eric Pierce?” He looked a bit surprised: “Miss Evans, you know me? I’m honored.” “What brings you here?” I asked. Eric wore a gentle smile: “Miss Evans, I’d like to invite you to be my date.” “Your date?” I looked at him in surprise, unable to understand the thinking of rich people. He was handsome and wealthy. With a wave of his hand, countless women would throw themselves at him. Why would he choose me, a woman of ordinary background and looks? I was about to refuse when he said: “My brother Everett will be there too.” I hesitated. Even if I couldn’t say goodbye to Summer, it would be nice to see him from afar one last time. Although I didn’t know Eric’s motives, I agreed. I, a person with no parents and a serious illness, had nothing to be schemed for anyway. I wore the dress Eric had prepared, unconsciously touching the mirror. Eric’s eyes flashed with admiration as he placed a necklace around my neck, chuckling: “My brother is not only simple-minded but also blind.” I pressed my lips together, not responding. When we arrived at the banquet, I just wanted to flee. This wasn’t some business event, but Everett’s engagement party. He stood there, naturally exuding nobility and coldness, like a bamboo after snow – eye-catching. The woman beside him wore a white dress, as if she had draped the Milky Way over herself, dazzlingly beautiful. “Does Miss Sophia have anything to say?” the host asked. “I’m glad I could make a playboy settle down, and I’m glad I’ve always been by Everett’s side,” Sophia replied. I touched the bracelet on my wrist dejectedly. It was woven by Summer and contained some of his hair. But now, Everett only had a blindingly bright ring on his finger. Actually, I was also grateful to have met Summer during the lowest point of my life. He was like a dream I had, accompanying me through my darkest times before leaving. I just wished… the dream could have lasted a little longer. 0I wanted to escape, but Eric held me back. He smiled: “Don’t you want to offer your congratulations?” Reluctantly, I followed him to Everett’s side. Everett glanced at me, his tone frivolous: “So my brother likes second-hand goods.” I felt my breath catch, my heart inexplicably aching. Sophia beside him smiled at him: “Don’t say that. At least she took care of you for three years.” Everett made a sound of acknowledgment and asked someone nearby for a check, which he handed to me: “Fill in any amount you want.”

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At Mr. Green’s 60th birthday party, my husband’s younger sister, who is well over 25, pressed her chest against him. What’s even stranger is that his family acted like it was perfectly normal. I thought I was overreacting… Until my father-in-law got drunk and let a secret slip. My husband, Michael, is what you’d call a “sister’s boy.” I realized this when we were still dating. At the time, Emily had just started her junior year in college and was coming home for summer break. Michael and I drove to the Bus Depot to pick her up. I wore a pair of high heels that were too tight, and halfway there, they rubbed the skin on my heels raw. Every step was agony. Michael held a bouquet of flowers meant for his sister, Emily. I didn’t have the heart to ask him to help me, so I just quietly complained, “Can we slow down? My feet hurt.” Michael patted my head but didn’t slow down. Finally, we saw Emily. She was wheeling a pink suitcase and wearing a short skirt. The second she spotted Michael, she squealed like a happy little bird and ran straight into his arms. Michael didn’t hesitate either—he grabbed her thighs and spun her around a few times, right there in public. My face turned dark immediately. Noticing my reaction, Michael gently put Emily down and reached out to hold my hand. “Emily, this is your sister-in-law. Say hi!” “Hi, sis!” Emily chirped sweetly. A few steps later, Emily started whining that her feet hurt. Michael glanced at me cautiously, while Emily gave me a pitiful look. What could I say in that situation? Michael handed me the flowers, whispered, “You’re amazing, babe,” and then picked Emily up on his back. They walked ahead of me while I limped behind, trying to ignore the pain. That day, the thought of breaking up with him crossed my mind more times than I could count. But in the end, I couldn’t let go of five years of love. Besides, Michael came from a good family, was handsome, and had a stable job. If it weren’t for his obsession with his sister, he was practically perfect. A little later, I agreed to marry him. In our second year of marriage, we had a beautiful son, Andy. After giving birth, my body wasn’t the same, but Michael still loved me like before. Just when I thought life would continue peacefully, everything changed at Mr. Green’s 60th birthday party. The revelation hit me like a bolt of lightning. Before that, Emily had gotten drunk and passed out in Michael’s arms. Her chest was pressed right against his thigh. I shot Michael a look, but he ignored me. Instead, he called a server over for a damp towel and carefully wiped Emily’s face and neck. Emily let out a soft moan and wrapped her arms around Michael’s, clinging to him in the most intimate way. Sensing my discomfort, my mother-in-law, Mrs. Green, casually placed a shrimp in my bowl and said, “They’ve been close like this since they were kids. Don’t let it bother you. Come on, eat up!” I forced a nod, chewing on the shrimp that tasted like nothing. As the drinks flowed, Mr. Green stood up with his glass and announced, “Today isn’t just my birthday. I also have some great news! My daughter, Emily, has been hired by the local TV station! We all know how hard it is to get into the TV station—they only pick the very best!” Everyone clapped and congratulated her. Mr. Green, a bit unsteady, swayed slightly and had to be supported by someone next to him. “Emily may not be our biological child,” he continued, “but in terms of smarts and determination, she’s just like a true Green!” Mrs. Green gave me a strange look and quickly stood up to cut him off. Michael gently pushed Emily off his lap and glanced at me, finally realizing what was happening. Around us, the chatter was a blur. My head was buzzing like a swarm of flies. Before, I could convince myself that their closeness was just due to blood ties. But now? There was no way I could believe that the relationship between Michael and Emily was purely that of a brother and sister. Especially since just the night before, when our son had a 104°F fever from tonsillitis, Michael left him to take Emily home after she got drunk. He didn’t come back all night.

That night, when I heard Andy crying, I rushed barefoot into his room and saw his flushed little face, his voice hoarse. The thermometer read 104°F. I ran back to our room to wake up Michael, but he was sitting on the bed, on the phone. “Alright, stay where you are. I’m on my way,” he said. “Michael, Andy’s got a fever!” I told him. He hesitated. “Julia, could you take him to the hospital first? Emily got drunk, and she needs me to pick her up.” “She has plenty of friends. If worse comes to worst, call your parents.” Michael frowned, “They’re asleep, and she’s a girl, Julia. I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. You go first, I’ll meet you there.” My temples throbbed with frustration, but I bit my tongue. I rushed Andy to the emergency room, where the doctor diagnosed tonsillitis. A single shot and the fever would subside. I finally breathed a sigh of relief. But Andy hadn’t eaten much dinner, and the medication upset his stomach. He vomited suddenly, and I didn’t have anything on hand to catch it, so I used my bare hands to avoid messing up the hospital floor. The pungent smell was overwhelming, and I felt tears well up. Thankfully, a woman nearby handed me a plastic bag. Andy’s little face was red with discomfort, and he held my hand, whispering, “Mommy, I’m sorry.” My heart ached as I replied, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Andy. You were so brave.” I put on a strong face for Andy, but one question from that woman broke me down inside: “Where’s your husband? Why are you here alone?” That night, I sat by Andy’s bedside and didn’t close my eyes for a second. Michael came home at five in the morning, holding my favorite crab-stuffed pastries. He apologized, massaged my feet, brought me water, and begged me to rest. I was exhausted, and seeing how sincere he seemed, I let it go. But that incident left a knot in my heart that never truly untied. It eventually became the spark that led to our divorce. After leaving Mr. Green’s birthday party, I walked straight to the parking lot, with Michael chasing after me, blocking the car door. “Are you seriously leaving during such an important event?” he asked. “Come on, stop being dramatic. Let’s go back.” I jerked my hand away. “Aren’t you going to explain what’s going on with you and Emily?” Michael sighed. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I just didn’t want anyone to misunderstand and have it affect Emily.” I laughed bitterly, “And that’s it? Michael, do you really think I’m that stupid? Do you expect me to believe that what you two have is just sibling love?” His face twisted in disbelief. “Julia, your mind is in the gutter!” Before I could respond, Mrs. Green appeared, hearing our argument, and immediately pointed at me. “You, of all people, should know better. How could you say something like that?” I watched them stand united against me, feeling a coldness settle in my chest. Without another word, I opened the car door. As I got in, I heard Mrs. Green muttering, “What kind of person did you marry? So disrespectful!” I held back the burning anger and drove away. The next day, I packed up my things, took Andy, and went back to my parents’ house. My mom tried to talk me down. “So what if they aren’t blood-related? They didn’t do anything inappropriate. Marriage means you have to turn a blind eye to some things.” “Mom, you know me. I can’t ignore something like this.” My dad slammed down his cup. “There’s never been a divorce in the Davis family. If you go through with this, don’t come back!” I slammed the door, sinking to the floor as the weight of everything hit me. I thought my parents’ home would be my safe haven. Instead, they were on Michael’s side.

During this time, Michael kept calling, but I ignored him. I blocked him on Instagram and every other social platform he might reach me on. Andy would occasionally ask, “Why isn’t Dad with us?” I would swallow my sadness and reply, “Daddy’s working hard. He’ll come see you soon.” Andy would nod, gripping my hand, “Mom, don’t be mad at Dad. I want us all to be happy together.” Tears filled my eyes. Staring at Andy’s innocent face, my resolve to divorce began to waver. That night, I tried to convince myself to move on, but every time I closed my eyes, the memories I couldn’t let go of flooded back— Emily sitting on Michael’s lap, playing video games. Michael using his chopsticks to hand-feed Emily pieces of fish. Emily throwing herself into his arms every time she won a game. And every time they were in the same room, they sat together, laughing and chatting, completely ignoring me. If they could behave like that in front of me, I couldn’t imagine what went on behind closed doors. It wasn’t stubbornness on my part—it was impossible to ignore. A few days later, I was surprised when Michael showed up at my door with Emily to apologize. That morning, I had dropped Andy off at Maple Grove Daycare and swung by Fisherman’s Wharf to pick up a few pounds of clams—my dad’s favorite. He’d been ignoring me for days, and as his daughter, I knew I had to make things right. My dad was a traditional man, strict but with a good heart. He had never once mistreated my mom in all their years of marriage. Even though he said some hurtful things, Mom told me he had privately called Michael and given him a good scolding. When I got home, the house was empty. I had just started soaking the clams when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see Michael, unshaven and haggard, with a sulky Emily standing behind him. “Julia, I brought Emily to apologize.” “I overreacted that day.” “I didn’t realize how uncomfortable our behavior made you. I promise, there’s nothing between us other than sibling love.” Then he pulled Emily forward. She didn’t look happy, but eventually muttered, “I’m sorry, sis. My brother and I have always been close like this. If anything was off, he wouldn’t have married you, right?” She shot Michael a knowing glance as she spoke. This wasn’t an apology—it was a taunt. I smirked, ready to fire back, but Michael’s face darkened. “Emily, if you can’t apologize properly, keep quiet!” “Fine!” Emily’s eyes reddened as she glared at both of us. “I hope you two live happily ever after!” Then she stomped away in her heels. “Aren’t you going to chase after her?” I sneered. Michael shook his head. “She’s spoiled from how we raised her, like a little princess. Don’t let it bother you. I swear, I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.” I softened and packed up my things to return home with Michael. A week later, Andy was overjoyed to see his dad again, clinging to Michael like he would never let go. Watching them together, my heart felt heavy. I had never asked Andy to choose between us, but at that moment, I really wanted to know—if Michael and I divorced, who would he pick? For a long time after that, Michael was more attentive than ever before. He woke up early to buy groceries, canceled every social event, and spent all his time at home with Andy and me. There were even little surprises—flowers, cakes, jewelry. He even remembered my period and had warm tea ready in advance. It felt like we had gone back to our early dating days. I could tell he was trying to make up for his mistakes. Even though the hurt lingered, I decided to bury it for now and give our marriage another try. But everything changed the week my grandmother passed away. I went back to my hometown with my mom for the funeral. There was a virus outbreak in my hometown, and since Andy was still so young, I couldn’t bring him along.

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On my 22nd birthday, my uncle discovered my diary. After learning about my secret crush on him, he sent me abroad and spent millions on a lavish wedding to marry his true love. At the airport, he coldly warned me: “Never have inappropriate thoughts again.” Years later, I returned with a child in my arms. He was shocked: “Is this yours?” I nodded with a smile: “Yes. I just finished my postpartum recovery.” Sitting on the plane, I still felt dazed. I never thought that after five years abroad, I would have the chance to come back. After all, Orion had said that in this lifetime, I’d better never appear in front of him again. But it was also he who personally bought me a ticket back home, inviting me to attend his and Melissa’s wedding anniversary celebration. After two layovers, I finally landed. Uma had been sleeping peacefully on the plane, but once we got off, she started crying. “Mommy, my feet hurt,” she whimpered softly. Hearing Uma’s quiet sobs, I quickly picked her up and walked towards the exit. At the arrival gate, I turned on my phone, ready to call a cab. Just then, my phone rang. Seeing the familiar number on the screen, I fell silent, unsure whether to answer or not. In the end, I didn’t pick up. But a second call came through almost immediately. I sighed and finally answered. Orion’s voice quickly came through. After years without talking, his voice hadn’t changed. “Are you out of the airport? I sent an assistant to pick you up,” Orion said in a businesslike manner, as if we were strangers. I laughed bitterly, “I can get a cab myself.” There was silence for a second; Orion probably didn’t expect me to say that. After all, back then, I had been well taken care of by him. During my years by his side, all my needs were met – I never had to worry about transportation. After a moment of silence, Orion spoke casually, “Let the assistant come anyway. I bought a gift for Melissa on your behalf, it’s in the trunk. You can bring it directly when you come for dinner.” Orion was still so thoughtful, considering even the gift situation perfectly. Of course, when he spent millions on the venue and commissioned a limited edition diamond to create a unique wedding ring for Melissa, it was clear how much he loved her. “Alright,” I said, rubbing my forehead and responding softly. Orion didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t hang up either. After a while, Orion finally spoke: “Yara, after five years abroad, I hope you’ve really reflected on things. If you do anything to Melissa, I won’t let you off easy.” Hearing this, I was stunned. The noise around me seemed to fade away. Orion said he wouldn’t let me off easy. Before I could respond, Orion had already hung up. Actually, Orion could rest assured. I wouldn’t do anything to them. I just wanted to take good care of Uma and find a job. As I left the airport, I lowered my head. The proud 22-year-old me probably couldn’t have imagined that my life would end up in such a miserable state. I was sent abroad by Orion on my 22nd birthday. That day, Orion discovered my diary. When I was young, my parents died in a cruise ship accident and never returned. Orion naturally took over my care. My relationship with him had always been harmonious. Until I became an adult, I realized I didn’t just see Orion as an uncle. I liked him. But I also knew very clearly that there was no future between Orion and me. So I wrote all my feelings in my diary. If Orion hadn’t seen my diary, I probably could have pretended that my feelings for him were just those of a niece for her uncle. But Orion saw it. He tore up my diary and asked me how I could have such disgusting thoughts. “Don’t you know I’m your uncle! Even without a blood relation, we can only be family!” The usually gentlemanly and refined Orion was no longer gentle, shouting at me with disgust in his eyes. At that time, I wanted to explain, but couldn’t explain anything. In the end, I could only keep bowing and apologizing, saying I was wrong, that I shouldn’t have fallen for him. But Orion didn’t calm down. The next day, he resigned from the job I had lined up, and under the guise of studying abroad, sent me to a remote university overseas. To prevent me from contacting the outside world, Orion even hired bodyguards to watch me. At first, I didn’t understand why Orion treated me this way. Until the first month after I went abroad, news of Orion’s marriage went viral. Only then did I realize that all these years, he had always had someone in his heart. I watched Orion’s wedding video over and over again. In the video, when looking at Melissa, Orion’s gaze was gentle and loving. He had never looked at me that way. From that moment on, I knew that Orion keeping me by his side for so many years was just out of sympathy and responsibility. His only love was Melissa. “Miss John, please get in the car,” the assistant’s voice brought me back to reality. I nodded and got into the car with the sleeping Uma. When he saw Uma, the assistant’s face showed a hint of surprise: “Miss John, this is…?” I made a shushing gesture, afraid our conversation would disturb Uma’s sleep. After sitting in the back seat, I answered softly: “This is my daughter.” The assistant nodded and fell silent. When he drove to our destination, I was stunned. This hotel was where Orion and Melissa got married. Five years of marriage, he held a wedding anniversary celebration every year, and personally selected gifts for Melissa. I thought, Orion really cherished Melissa. In previous years, he didn’t allow me to enter their world. Inviting me back this year was probably just to let me witness their happiness. I numbly got out of the car and saw Melissa smiling as she walked towards me. Unlike my haggard appearance and simple clothes, Melissa wore expensive jewelry and perfume, looking well-cared for by Orion. Melissa’s smile suddenly froze. I knew she had seen Uma in my arms. Sure enough, when she came to my side, Melissa’s expression was very surprised: “Yara, how did you secretly have a child abroad without telling me? I’ve been married to your uncle for so long, you still treat me like an outsider.” Before I could speak, Melissa took Uma from my arms without asking. Uma woke up and immediately started crying, struggling not to let Melissa hold her. I took Uma back from Melissa and comforted her for a while. Actually, Melissa knew about my past crush on Orion. Returning this time, I didn’t want to get too involved with Melissa. But Melissa still stubbornly wanted to hold Uma. When Melissa and I arrived at the hotel’s private room, Uma was still crying and wanting me to hold her. Melissa forced a smile and handed Uma back to me: “Your uncle knows having children isn’t easy. We haven’t thought about having kids these past few years. Seeing you’ve had a daughter, I got too excited.” There were already several people sitting in the room. I wasn’t used to socializing, so I chose a corner seat, and Melissa sat down next to me. She enthusiastically linked arms with me, introducing me and Uma to the others. The looks others gave me were visibly teasing and probing. I couldn’t stand the strange atmosphere here and said I wanted to go to the restroom. When I came back after washing my face, I heard Melissa’s voice. Someone asked Melissa why she brought in an unlucky thing like me. “What unlucky thing, Yara is Orion’s sister. Although she went down the wrong path and tried to seduce Orion before, now that she’s had a child, she definitely won’t make mistakes again.” Hearing Melissa say this, I just quietly stood at the door of the private room. Yes, in others’ eyes, I was just a madwoman who tried to seduce her uncle, a shameless slut. Uma tugged at my clothes uneasily, and I comforted her before entering the room. Some things have to be faced eventually. I don’t know how long passed, but suddenly everyone in the room stood up. “Mr. John is here!” “Hello, Mr. John!” A group of people crowded around him, while I didn’t move, just sitting in my seat. After a long time, I finally raised my head and looked at Orion. He seemed to have lost some weight. Orion wore a suit, with Melissa leaning on him. When they looked at each other, their eyes were full of smiles. Orion was surrounded by people and didn’t notice me in the corner. All these years, he who should have been the center of attention still was, while the only one not doing well was me. Suddenly, Melissa seemed to remember something and pushed Orion with a smile: “Orion, Yara is here too. You uncle and niece haven’t seen each other for so many years, catch up a bit. Yara even brought back a surprise!” Hearing the word “surprise”, Orion remained unmoved, first helping Melissa sit down and ordering her a glass of milk before raising his eyes to look in my direction. Uma shrank into a ball, looking very wary. Orion obviously saw Uma too, his eyes widening suddenly. “Yara, what is this?” He was asking about Uma. I hadn’t told them about Uma, so when they saw me with her, their expressions were all the same – either surprised or looking like they were watching a show. Melissa spoke for me: “Orion, this is Yara’s daughter. Isn’t she cute? She looks just like Yara and seems to be a few years old already.” Orion’s gaze fell on Uma, then on me, examining me for a while. Just when I thought Orion wouldn’t pay attention to me anymore, he asked hoarsely, pointing at Uma: “During these years abroad… you got married and had a child?” I raised my head, looking directly at Orion, and nodded. “I got married a while ago. Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Orion Hartley. Born into a powerful military family, he was already leading troops by the time he turned sixteen. His only flaw? Too many wives and mistresses. When I was brought into his home, I became his fifth wife. The First Wife, Vivienne Davenport, came from an old-money family and had been promised to Orion since they were children. The Second Wife, Seraphine Wilder, was once the star of the jazz scene at the famous Redwood Lounge. She could sing and dance like no other. The Third Wife, Moira Callahan, was Orion’s first love, a wealthy heiress who had just returned from studying abroad. The Fourth Wife, Delilah Rayne, came to Willowcreek as a refugee during the chaotic times. She was a doctor and once saved Orion’s life by accident. Talk about a line-up. A childhood sweetheart, A temptress, The first stirrings of love, And the untouchable woman of his dreams. And then, there’s me—awkwardly thrown into the mix by my father. I blame him for my situation, but I can’t be picky now. Marriage is marriage, after all, and it’s not like I had a choice. Now that I’m here, I’ve already crossed the threshold. But honestly, how could I possibly compete with them? Especially with Seraphine, the Second Wife, who had quite the temper. One wrong move, and I’d be forced to kneel in submission. I’d often tell myself, “It doesn’t matter. I’m already married. If I die, then so be it.” After spending some time with them, I noticed they all had distinct personalities. Vivienne, the First Wife, spent her time gardening, doing embroidery, or copying religious texts. She held onto old-fashioned values and rarely involved herself in our affairs, but when she did, she could silence us all. Seraphine, on the other hand, spent her free time playing poker or practicing her singing and dancing. You could hear her muttering about winning hands even in her sleep. “Bingo! Pay up!” She had a certain charm about her—loved money, but wasn’t exactly greedy. Her beauty was famous, rivaling the most glamorous women in the city. Moira, the Third Wife, was outspoken and straightforward. Though she acted tough, she had a soft heart. Despite her brashness, she loved gossip—there wasn’t a secret in Willowcreek that she didn’t know. Delilah, the Fourth Wife, was the one I got along with best. She was calm, non-competitive, and had a gentle demeanor. I’d heard she traveled with a medical mentor before arriving here. Her skills were rumored to be exceptional. In the Hartley Estate, the most intense rivalry was between Seraphine and Moira. Moira’s straightforwardness clashed with Seraphine’s theatrical flair. Whenever those two were in the same room, an argument was bound to happen. With war on the rise in the city, many wealthy families were fleeing. The servants at the estate had either left or disappeared, and with Orion away at the military camp, we wives were left to fend for ourselves. Seraphine, desperate to find poker buddies, dragged Moira, Delilah, and me into a game. When Moira beat Seraphine with a winning hand, another argument broke out, and we left the table in chaos. Delilah and I were utterly confused, watching them storm off.

I don’t remember what day it was, but another round of gunfire echoed from somewhere in the distance. Seraphine, though she’d never admit it, was scared and clung to me, refusing to leave my room. Meanwhile, Delilah came by to treat my back injury. How did I hurt my back, you ask? Well, Seraphine had complained that Moira didn’t put enough salt in the soup. The two argued so fiercely in the kitchen that I feared they’d start a brawl. In trying to stop them, I twisted my back. Bang! Bang bang! More shots rang out from afar, and the quiet night suddenly became terrifying. When Moira came in and saw Seraphine wrapped tightly in my blanket, she couldn’t help but laugh. A moment later, Vivienne arrived, having heard the commotion. By then, the entire city had lost power—an area-wide blackout, possibly caused by the military searching for a spy’s transmitter. The five of us huddled together in my small bedroom, the atmosphere strangely… comforting. “So, how about lighting a candle and playing some cards?” Moira teased Seraphine. Moonlight streamed through the window, revealing Seraphine’s head poking out from beneath the blanket. She was, without a doubt, the queen of gambling. But of course, none of us had the heart to play. Vivienne had been trying to contact Orion all night, but with no luck. We all feared the worst. Out of the five of us, I was the only one whose parents were still alive. But my father? He’d run off with the money long ago. No help there. We had no choice but to stick together. It was a long night. By the time the sun rose, we finally dared to return to our rooms to get some rest. But just as I lay down, enemy planes roared overhead, dropping bombs. Willowcreek had fallen.

To avoid the worst of the disaster, we were escorted to an air raid shelter by military officers. From last night to now, I had only slept a couple of hours. Everyone was groggy as we were herded into the shelter. We didn’t bring much food, but fortunately, the officers knew we were Orion Hartley’s wives and treated us with extra care. For the first time, I felt what it was like to truly share hardship with others. Inside the shelter, some civilians starved to death, unable to find food. Others risked their lives to search outside but never returned. There were even pregnant women who died from complications because there wasn’t proper medical care. A few days later, a group of officers in yellow uniforms arrived, speaking in a language we didn’t understand. They pointed their guns at us and ordered everyone to kneel with their hands on their heads. Delilah quickly sensed the danger and smeared dirt on our faces. They began speaking in broken English, asking who was Orion’s wife. None of us dared stand up. The lead officer spoke again, saying if we didn’t reveal ourselves, they’d kill every one of us, starting from the top and working their way down. Three, two, one… “I’m Orion Hartley’s wife!” I wanted to say it for Vivienne, the First Wife. I had already prepared myself mentally to do so. But in the end, it was she who bravely stood up and faced them. They tied her up and were about to take her away when one of the soldiers spotted Seraphine, the Second Wife, crouched in the corner. Their faces twisted with lecherous grins as Seraphine quickly lowered her head. “You… what’s your name?” Again, the broken English and sleazy tone made my stomach churn. Seraphine stayed silent, frozen with fear, unable to utter a word. “You, not talk? Good.” They dragged her out, her beauty still visible even beneath the layer of dirt smeared on her face. She was the type of woman who could catch anyone’s eye, even in a crowd. And just like that, without warning, they took both Seraphine and Vivienne. Moira, the Third Wife, clutched my sleeve so tightly her whole body trembled. It wasn’t until the soldiers were far off that she finally let go, shaking from head to toe. Now it was just the three of us. The room still echoed with the horror of what had just happened. “I should’ve saved them… we should’ve done something,” I muttered, my voice trembling as I fought back tears. Delilah, the Fourth Wife, stood there, pale as a ghost, frozen in place. “What do we do now? What are we supposed to do?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. I can’t die yet. I can’t die. We were herded into trucks—three of them. One filled with women, one with children, and one with men. Each truck drove off in a different direction. Moira turned to me, her voice shaking. “It’s the Japanese.” The Japanese. I grew up in the sheltered gardens of my childhood home, never thinking much of the world beyond. I used to believe that everyone spoke the same language as us. I didn’t understand what going abroad meant. I didn’t know how to use a phone, let alone worry about the affairs of the world. How naïve I had been. Every day, I rode in a rickety cab to eat at the same little diner in the alley. That had been my life. And now, we had been taken by the Japanese. They invaded our country. They had no sense of decency. Where was Orion? Was he dead? Where were they taking us? Would we ever come back to this land again? Sitting in the back of the truck, my thoughts spiraled. I wondered what I would look like in death. All I remember next is that someone came to save us. The deafening sound of gunfire filled the streets as chaos erupted. We were scattered, running through the once-bustling streets of Willowcreek. People were everywhere, pushing, shoving—I lost track of the others. I felt a sharp blow to the head. It was so loud, so chaotic. I thought I was going to die. But it wasn’t just a blow. I think I was shot. Oddly, though, there was no pain. Just a steady flow of blood pouring from my body. Fine, I thought, let it be. Death is death. It’s not like anyone cared about me. My father had abandoned me. My mother, too. Orion Hartley never loved me. I had no children, no family to mourn me. My life had been so small. There would be no one to shed a tear for me when I was gone. So, I let go. My eyelids grew heavy, and I drifted into a deep sleep. I dreamt of snow falling on Willowcreek. It was heavy, thick, covering the streets in white. But soon, the soldiers came—ruthless, unyielding, killing without mercy. Blood stained the streets as the people screamed and cried for help. I was powerless to stop it. The city was in chaos. Willowcreek was in chaos. Even the police who once protected us had become traitors, working hand in hand with the enemy. Even the soldiers who were supposed to stand for our nation had betrayed us. It had been so long since I’d seen snow.

Today marks one month since Zephyr Callahan saved me. My gunshot wound has almost fully healed, and I can move around freely again. Zephyr says I’m lucky to be alive, and honestly, I agree. Zephyr Callahan. A professor at Westgate Academy and a member of the Revolutionaries. He’s rescued countless people from the hands of the Japanese. To me, he’s a hero. One day, I asked Zephyr to find out what happened to Vivienne and the other wives. Seraphine… she was taken to Japan. No one knows where she is now. When Orion Hartley tried to rescue them, only Vivienne remained, imprisoned in an interrogation room. It had been so long, and finding Moira and Delilah was nearly impossible—there were no photographs of them, and time had made the search even harder. Honestly, the Japanese are nothing short of monsters. They’ve torn countless families apart. I told Zephyr that I wanted to join the revolution. He froze, clearly not expecting such words from someone like me—a once-spoiled, fragile heiress. At night, we’d sit in the garden and listen to the distant gunfire. Ever since the Japanese arrived, no one had been able to find peace. They’d barge into homes, searching for people, disrupting lives. It was all so reckless, so rude. I learned a new word from Zephyr. A name for the invaders: Japs. The little Japs. Zephyr sent me to the Revolutionaries’ base in Denver. It was where the movement had begun, and he agreed to let me join the fight. He was cautious at first, but over time, as I proved myself, he allowed me to accompany him on missions. We even infiltrated the Japanese officers’ quarters and stole important intel. It was crucial for our comrades. This was no game. I knew that. I packed my bags and left at the end of December. That trip lasted two years. In Denver, I met many revolutionaries—people I deeply admired. Every day, I trained hard in marksmanship and learned to speak Japanese fluently. I swore I’d become a patriot, just like them. They gave me a codename: Scholar. My superior was none other than Zephyr, the man who had saved me. His codename was Shadow. Two years later, I returned to Willowcreek, this time posing as a music teacher at Westgate Academy. My mission? Assist Zephyr in assassinating a high-ranking Japanese officer, Sato Masahiro. The Willowcreek I knew had changed. It was still bustling, but now there were Japanese-style buildings everywhere, and Japanese soldiers patrolled the streets. I wondered how Vivienne and the others were faring. Were they still alive? Zephyr introduced me as his cousin, and I even changed my name to Kendra Rayne for my cover. Through some connections, Zephyr got me into the officer’s mansion to teach Sato’s sister, Yuko, how to play piano. Yuko was also a student at Westgate. She seemed particularly interested in Zephyr, constantly asking me about him. As I grew closer to Yuko, she invited me to their family estate, the same place where we used to live. She showed me around the house, proudly describing every detail. But I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. This was once our home, filled with laughter and joy. Now, the invaders walked its halls as if they owned it. The memories brought tears to my eyes, but I quickly held them back, not wanting Yuko to see. During dinner, Yuko cooked Japanese food—sushi and sashimi. She proudly explained each dish to me. After dinner, I offered to help clean up but accidentally cut my hand on a knife. Blood dripped onto the floor. Yuko panicked and called for the family’s private doctor to bandage me up. To my surprise, the doctor was none other than Delilah Rayne, the Fourth Wife. Delilah and I locked eyes, and in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to run to her and embrace her tightly. It had been two years since we last saw each other, and she had cut her once long, beautiful hair into a short bob. She stood frozen in shock, but I quickly regained my composure. “Doctor, will my hand be okay? Should I avoid water for a while?” Delilah, catching the signal, nodded and began to treat my wound. “The cut is deep, but as long as you keep it dry for three days, it should heal.” I nodded back. Yuko, still worried, apologized profusely. “Ms. Rayne, I’m so sorry.” Hearing her call me “Ms. Rayne,” Delilah glanced at me again. “It’s my fault for insisting on helping,” I replied, trying to deflect attention. Just as Delilah finished bandaging me up, Sato Masahiro walked in. I remembered him instantly—he was the same officer from the air raid shelter. My heart raced, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Brother, you’re back! I invited Ms. Rayne to join us for dinner,” Yuko announced cheerfully. Sato looked me up and down, but after a moment, he seemed to deem me harmless. He gave a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t let your teacher stay too late. The streets aren’t safe with the Revolutionaries on the move.” He and Yuko began speaking in Japanese, and thankfully, I understood every word. I cursed him silently, my mind racing with insults. But I maintained my composure and replied in Japanese, “I trust the officers of the Empire won’t harm innocent civilians.” Sato seemed pleased with my response. His fake smile softened into something more genuine. “Ms. Rayne, the Empire seeks only justice. We just don’t want you to fall into the hands of the Revolutionaries.” He made a chilling gesture across his throat, as if mimicking an execution. A cold shiver ran down my spine. His cruelty was horrifying. Then, he turned to Yuko and said, “Your sister, Sachiko, will be joining us here in Willowcreek after autumn.” Yuko squealed with excitement. “Really? Are you and Sachiko going to get engaged?” Sachiko. I had heard about her from Zephyr. She was Sato’s lover, and their engagement was imminent. “Ms. Rayne, you’ll be invited to the engagement party as well,” Sato added, turning to Delilah. “Even Dr. Rayne has agreed to attend.” I forced a smile. “Thank you, Sato. I look forward to it. But for now, I’ll take my leave. It’s getting late.” Sato offered to have me escorted home, but I declined. I didn’t need any help from the enemy. If I could kill him at his engagement party, that might be my best chance. As I left the estate, Delilah caught up with me. “Let’s walk back together,” she said. “I’m heading to St. Mary’s Hospital for my shift.” I nodded. She was now a doctor, wearing the white coat she had always dreamed of.

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The proud and scheming wolfdog-like bottom bunk uke × the sunny and easily tamed puppy-like top bunk uke × the self-imagining seme Taming Diary ‘Wife’ isn’t about gender; it’s a feeling. If the feeling’s right, it could be a guy too. Stellar Song lay on the top bunk across from me, half his body hanging off as he poked his head out to say this. His tone was a mix of cute and just a little coy. What? We were clearly just talking about what types of girls we liked. How did this guy go off on a tangent? I quickly glanced over at Flynn Song on the lower bunk across from me, raising my eyebrows with a knowing look that said, “Did you hear what your brother just said? This guy’s trouble. You think he might actually be turning gay?” Flynn Song was looking right back at me, but instead of reacting to Stellar, he said something that caught me even more off guard: “I agree, but let’s keep things straight between brothers.” As soon as he said that, I felt the air around me turn three degrees colder, and a strange feeling creep up my heart. Dude, you two brothers don’t want to share one, do you? Also, why are you suddenly getting out of bed? That’s right. The unlucky guy who was being stared at so intently by these two men at this moment was me. Being liked by a man was already strange enough, but what was even stranger was that it wasn’t just one man. The real kicker was that they were brothers—twins, no less. “Hold on a second, you two. I’m not the one you’re planning to ‘share,’ am I?” Stellar Song flashed a mischievous grin, showing off his cute canine teeth as he nodded slowly. “Why not?” “It’s not me, for crying out loud. I’m a guy.” But Flynn just smirked. “Didn’t my brother say that if the feeling’s right, it could be a guy too?” The two brothers teamed up and yanked away the blanket I was using to cover myself. Then, my wails filled the whole corridor, “Damn it! I treated you two as brothers. What do you two take me for!… Ah. ..Don’t touch me there…” Here’s how it all started. My name’s Wayne, and I’m the head of this dorm. When I first entered this dorm, I thought my days here were going to be tough, because the rejection and coldness in the eyes of these two brothers clearly showed that they regarded me as an outsider. And things were tough… just not in the way I’d expected. Turns out, it was my lower body that took the hit. “Hi, I’m Wayne , your senior…” Although it was a bit awkward, I still calmly introduced myself. Thankfully, there were four of us in the dorm, and the other freshman gave me a friendly nod, saying apologetically, “Hello, senior. Sorry about that. They’re just a bit slow to warm up. They’ll be fine once they get to know you.” “It’s all good. They’re freshmen; everyone’s got their own quirks.” I walked straight to my bed and smiled at these two brothers. Back then, I thought I’d just get through the year and graduate, but little did I know I’d walked straight into a den of wolves. I’d had the bad luck of breaking my leg last semester, which meant a year off to recover at home. By the time I was back, my original classmates had already graduated, so I had no choice but to transfer to this dorm. I thought since I was the oldest, I should take care of these freshmen brothers a bit more. So, I usually helped them fetch water, bring food, and reserve seats for them when I had nothing to do. I thought I was just doing good deeds . Who would have thought that I did do good deeds, but ended up sacrificing my own parts. Now that I think about it, there were signs of this. For example, recently, Stellar Song would suddenly hug me from behind after taking the food I brought him, and then give me a smile that would make girls go crazy and say to me , “Thank you, Brother Wayne.” And then there was Flynn Song, who suddenly started wearing perfume. He’d come over, letting me smell it and asking if I liked it. The way he stretched his neck was so flirty. He clearly looked like a bottom, but at that time, all I could think was, “Well, he knows I’m a nice guy and is coming to play with me. Little brat.” Now I really regret it. I even took the initiative to invite them to the bathhouse for a soak together. Take a bath! Get naked with two bottoms! Take a bath! Wasn’t I just throwing myself at them? I still remember the looks they gave me at that time. Stellar Song’s eyes were bright. “Are you sure you want to take a bath with us~?” Flynn Song, on the other hand, stared at me strangely and said, “I don’t want to be in the bathroom.” At that time, I scratched my head, not understanding their intentions, and said stupidly, “What’s the matter? We’re all buddies. Hurry up, don’t be so slow. ” In the bathroom, steam was swirling around. The two brothers had squeezed in close, sandwiching me in the middle as we took a bath. “Brother Wayne, I didn’t expect you to have such a good body.” Stellar Song praised me with a smile. “Of course. I’ve been working out for a long time.” Flynn Song, keeping his usual confident demeanor, chimed in, “What’s the point of looking good? Being healthy is what really matters.” “I’m as fit as a fiddle, guys,” I said, naively starting to brag about my glorious achievements with my ex-girlfriend, completely oblivious to the increasingly mischievous glints in their eyes. After we got back from the bathhouse to the dorm, I decided to continue our earlier topic and asked them what kinds of girls they liked. That’s when the same scene unfolded again, with Stellar Song saying how “wife” is a feeling and it can be a guy too. And then these two bottoms surrounded me. Now I’m extremely regretful. I’m such an idiot. Not having a gaydar has really screwed me over. If God were to give me another chance now, I would never take a bath with these two brothers again. No, I would never share a dorm with them again. “Brother Wayne, your body is so good. I was drooling over you when we were taking a bath just now.” Stellar Song reached out to a place he shouldn’t have and pinched me sneakily. I have to admit, this guy has really nice skin, and his eyes are huge. With those Korean-style bangs, he actually looks a bit like a cute girl. “Let’s call this love at first sight, shall we?” Suddenly, he climbed onto me, looking at me with burning eyes and even licking his lips? In that moment, even though I was fully dressed, it felt like I was completely naked. I got angry.“Stellar Song, get off me right now. Don’t make me hit you!” “Humph, then hit me.” Who would’ve thought this guy wouldn’t listen? He took the chance to fall into my arms and said coyly, “Just right. I like being tamed by Brother Wayne.” What the hell! I rolled over to get up, ready to throw a few punches at him. But as I landed a few hits, I suddenly felt something strange. This guy was actually moaning and wriggling around? Damn it, it made me hard. “Stop moving!” I roared at Stellar Song. “Okay, don’t be so mean. I’m just in pain because you hit me.” Stellar Song looked at me pitifully and stopped. But Flynn Song was all fired up. “What are you afraid of? There are two of us. Can’t we overpower him?” Flynn Song is different from his brother. He’s smart, decisive, and he has to succeed in whatever he wants to do. He never accepts threats. Just like today, he managed to send the fourth roommate to the cybercafe without anyone noticing. That guy even promised that he wouldn’t come back today before leaving. On top of that, Flynn works out regularly, so when it comes to physical strength, I might not stand a chance against him. It turned out that Flynn Song had been quietly watching Stellar Song and me mess around for a while, just biding his time to wear me out before striking at the perfect moment. “Okay, the appetizer is over. It’s time for the main course.” “What are you doing? Don’t come over here. Don’t… Don’t touch me!” Flynn Song pressed down on me and said ambiguously in my ear, “Don’t pretend. You were already hard just now.” I was stunned. So, he had seen everything I’d tried to hide. “Don’t worry. It’s obvious that you’re a top. You won’t be on the bottom.”

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My boyfriend Vincent was a special forces soldier specializing in bomb disposal. To save a woman, he endured inhumane torture at the hands of a terrorist organization. His fingers were cut off, his tendons severed, and the tip of his tongue was chopped away. From a proud and noble man, he was reduced to a fool who drooled when he spoke. He had no idea that the woman he was trying to save was the beloved of Simon, the leader of the terrorist organization. It was all a trap, designed to lure him in. On the day I heard the news of Vincent’s death, I committed suicide by jumping into the sea. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself the most favored captive of Simon. The original owner of this body was used to wearing heavy makeup, but I wasn’t. I remember that on the second day after transmigrating into this body, I showed up in front of Simon without a trace of makeup. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look up, a half-smile on his face. “You don’t look like Jilly without makeup.” So today, I deliberately applied makeup to imitate Jilly’s look. I even added a tear-shaped mole at the outer corner of my right eye. I was planning to get rid of someone. Tiger, Simon’s right-hand man. When Simon rushed into the room after getting the news, I was in Tiger’s arms. Tears streamed down my face. Tiger loomed beside me like a mountain, his face flushed from drinking, his eyes gleaming with greed. I shook my head, crying out “No—” while pushing against him with what seemed like feeble strength. “If your brother Simon finds out, he won’t let you off!” Tiger laughed loudly, his gold teeth shining. “You? Just a substitute for Miss Jilly. Brother Simon doesn’t care.” “A nobody. Do you really think Brother Simon would care?” I felt humiliated and was determined not to let him succeed, struggling to move backward. He licked his lips. “What a beauty. No wonder you’ve been able to stay beside Brother Simon for so long.” He was about to make his move. It was at that moment that Simon burst in. He held a pistol, his face cold and stern. I cried out to him, “Simon, save me—I’m not pure anymore, Simon. I don’t want to live.” I knew that with my face slightly tilted to the right, I resembled Jilly the most. When Tiger saw Simon approaching, instead of backing off, he touched my face. “Well, you little thing. You really called Brother Simon here.” He turned to Simon, grinning widely. “Brother Simon, I’ve risked my life for you all these years. Can you give this girl to me?” Everyone around Simon feared him. Even if it was just a woman, as long as she belonged to Simon, she was his private property, and no one dared to touch her. After Tiger said this, I knew that the drug I had slipped him to induce mental confusion had taken effect. Simon’s handsome brows furrowed deeply. He stood there, silent, weighing his options. Should he choose the woman or his brother? Tears streamed from the tear-shaped mole on my face as I sobbed, “Simon, if you really give me to him, I’ll die!” Simon raised an eyebrow, maintaining that careless, half-smiling demeanor. “Alright, Tiger, Cherry is yours.” Tiger’s face lit up with joy at Simon’s permission. Just as he was about to touch me, I closed my eyes in despair. But in the next moment, Simon’s expression changed completely. He looked incredibly sarcastic, his tone fierce: “You? You think you’re worthy?” “Bang!” Tiger’s head jerked to the side, a hole appearing in it. I had bet correctly. Simon strode over, shoved Tiger aside, and lifted me by the waist. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” he murmured. “No one dares to touch you.” I leaned against his shoulder, trembling uncontrollably, but a chilling smile curved on my blood-stained lips. Vincent, was this how it felt when Tiger cut off your fingers and the tip of your tongue back then? Turning my head, I caught a glimpse of Tiger’s disbelieving eyes, still open on the ground. Good riddance.

Vincent and I met in a war-torn foreign country. Terrorists had invaded the hospital and strapped a bomb to me. Vincent led a team to rescue me. I was so nervous that cold sweat poured down my face as I clenched my teeth. He smiled, his eyes clear behind the mask. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let you die here,” he comforted me. For two whole hours, Vincent knelt beside me, meticulously dismantling the bomb. I had never stared into someone’s eyes for so long. Even now, whenever I close my eyes, I can still picture his face in my mind. The bomb was finally removed, but after a five-second pause, it triggered a new countdown. Only ten seconds left. Vincent’s expression tightened. He grabbed my hand and rushed me out of the hospital. Just as we burst through the doors, he yanked me into his arms, throwing us both to the ground. His body shielded me completely. The next second, an explosion roared behind us. The entire makeshift medical point was obliterated. Sand, mud, and debris rained down from the sky. The man on top of me frowned from the force of the blast, but I felt nothing. Only the sound of heartbeats. Deafening heartbeats. Drowned out by the explosion. After that day, Vincent often visited the newly built medical point. One day it was, “Dr. Leo, I got bitten by an ant on my thumb.” The next day, “Dr. Leo, I got pricked while picking flowers.” And the day after that, “Dr. Leo, I think I have a heart problem. The kind only you can treat.” Seeing me blush with anger as I tried to shoo him away, he would laugh, a triumphant glint in his eyes. From then on, he claimed he had two missions: to fight against terrorists and to protect me. But one day, he simply stopped showing up. He was kidnapped by the terrorist organization. The group had taken a Chinese woman hostage and specifically demanded Vincent by name. If he came, they promised to let her go. Vincent didn’t hesitate. He went alone, willing to trade his own life for hers. The terrorist organization live-streamed the scene of Vincent’s torture. They wanted him to work for them, to make bombs. Vincent would rather die than submit. On the screen, Simon sat opposite him, watching coldly as Vincent was hung up. In his lap was the so-called Chinese woman, Jilly, the hostage. She had her arms draped around Simon’s shoulders, smiling coyly. “Simon, he’s so stupid. He actually came to save me.” “Do you think he has a crush on me?” she teased. Simon, not even glancing at Vincent, casually replied to Tiger, “If he doesn’t comply, cut off his fingers and chop off his tongue tip.” He leaned in to plant a light kiss on Jilly’s red lips. “I want to see how he can dismantle bombs after that.” Jilly giggled, “Leave him two fingers on each hand. After all, the feeling of being worse than dead is the most interesting.” With a swift swing of his knife, Tiger severed Vincent’s fingers, blood gushing from the wounds. Vincent’s screams of pain echoed through the live stream. As a doctor, I had witnessed many deaths in the war, but it was the first time I understood the depth of such agonizing screams. My heart ached as if it were being sliced by thousands of knives, and tears streamed down uncontrollably. It felt as if the cuts on Vincent’s body were also inflicted upon mine. In the following days, Simon continued to live-stream Vincent’s torment. His head hung limply, his mind foggy, and the blood from his severed fingers had dried to a dark crust. Because his tongue tip was cut off, his mouth couldn’t close, and saliva constantly dripped from the corners of his lips. He couldn’t care for himself and had even lost control of his bladder. All he did was stare blankly at the camera, murmuring repeatedly, “Marilyn, I’m okay.” My heart shattered into a thousand pieces, the pain so intense that I felt like I might die. Even in this state, he was still trying to comfort me! Is this really okay? Is this really okay?! My Vincent, my proud Vincent. The Vincent who dismantled bombs with calm, confident smiles, always there to comfort me. The Vincent who came to the hospital just to tease me, laughing joyfully when he succeeded. He should have always shone like the sun, standing tall like a pine tree. He should have returned to our country, glorified and honored. He shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be like this. A week later, the news of Vincent’s death arrived. He was dead. … After Tiger died, I stood frozen, my eyes cast down, silent and seemingly docile—almost frighteningly so. Perhaps my frightened demeanor unnerved Simon. He kissed my hair, constantly reassuring me that it was okay, that everything was over. He brought me before his subordinates, made me sit on his lap, and declared that I was his woman and could only belong to him. Anyone who dared to touch me again would meet the same fate as Tiger. Simon had Tiger’s head severed and displayed as a warning. His actions made me think I was important to him. But it wasn’t enough. I had to be important enough for him to marry me. Only then could I give him the ending he deserved. But what I didn’t expect was that, not long after, Jilly returned. She played with a knife against my face, smiling with amusement. “Your face does look quite like mine.” In the next moment, she clung to Simon’s arm, whining, “Simon, I haven’t practiced shooting in a while. Can I practice on Cherry?” Simon, casually smoking, patted her hand and said, “Sure.” Jilly’s idea of practice involved me putting an apple on my head as a target. I looked at Simon, pleading silently. He knew I was terrified of gunshots. Whenever one went off, he would cover my ears. But this time, he just had a cigarette in his mouth, a smile on his lips. “Cherry, Jilly just likes to practice this way. She’s a great shot. She won’t miss. Don’t worry.” I closed my eyes, standing frozen in place. No, I couldn’t resist. I couldn’t lose my temper. I had to be gentle and docile, playing the role of Simon’s captive well to earn his trust. As Simon had said, Jilly was indeed an excellent shot. She hit the apple on my head in one shot, the force knocking me to the ground. My elbow scraped against the ground, blood oozing from the wound. The loud gunshot made my ears ring. I bit my lip hard to keep from crying. I thought of Vincent. He had given me a gun, saying that in war, anything could happen, and told me to use it for self-defense. He taught me how to shoot. Standing behind me, he held me close, guiding my hands into the right position on the gun, teaching me step by step, his voice low and steady in my ear. Our bodies were pressed tightly together, the air he exhaled brushing against my skin. I don’t know whose ears turned red first. He had promised that as long as he was alive, no one would dare to bully me. But Vincent, the one who protected me, is gone. What am I supposed to do now, alone? Jilly was bouncing around, wrapping her arms around Simon’s neck. “Simon, look! My shooting is still as good as ever!” Simon didn’t even glance my way; his eyes were solely on Jilly, his expression affectionate. “Just stop when you’ve had enough fun,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. Jilly rolled her eyes. “Not enough!” This time, she made me place the apple on the side of my face. I knew she had been annoyed with my presence for a long time. Simon glanced at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he wanted to say something, but all he said was, “Alright, if you want to play this way, go ahead.” But this time, Jilly missed.

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