Category: English

I was the Peacock Princess. The year I came of age, every male peacock in the kingdom came seeking my hand. I distinctly chose Carbonell, a noble Green Peacock, yet the child I bore after marriage was a lowly White Peacock. Carbonell, seeing the White Peacock, flew into a rage. He snatched the infant, dashed it to its death, then threw me to be devoured by wild beasts. My sister, who had married a common Blue Peacock, bore a rare Violet Peacock. Her husband, in turn, became the new King of Birds. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I chose Carbonell as my husband. Before everyone, he rejected me, asking for my sister’s hand instead. I knew then: he had also been reborn. He believed that by marrying my sister, he would father a Violet Peacock. But this time, he wouldn’t even produce the lowliest Black Peacock. … 1 After the Phoenix clan’s demise, we, the Peacocks, ascended as the new rulers of the avian world. Peacocks came in six colors: Obsidian, Violet, Green, Blue, White, and Black. Obsidian was the most mythical; for three million years, no one had seen one, leading many to doubt its existence. Violet Peacocks were exceedingly rare, appearing only once every hundred millennia. Thus, within the Peacock Kingdom, Green Peacocks were the most esteemed, and Black Peacocks the most lowly. In my father’s generation, he sired only female peacocks. To secure the succession, he was forced to seek a son-in-law from outside the royal family. He promised the throne to whoever’s child with his daughter proved to be the noblest peacock. I was Father’s most beloved youngest princess, and his only Green Peacock daughter. So, on my coming-of-age day, every eligible male in the realm gathered outside the palace gates, vying for my hand. After rigorous selection, I chose Carbonell, also a Green Peacock. Father was extremely pleased with Carbonell; he was exceptionally handsome, considered the Peacock Kingdom’s foremost gentleman, and Father’s ideal heir. Father immediately announced his approval of the match, setting a date for our wedding. “Your Majesty, I do not wish to marry Princess Willow. This time, I request to marry Princess Seraphina.” I had just been reborn. Carbonell had released my hand and taken a step back, bowing before Father. A collective gasp swept through the assembled crowd. Even Seraphina looked stunned, though a look of thinly veiled glee quickly spread across her face. Seraphina was ten years my senior and still unmarried. This was because my mother was Father’s only officially wedded Queen, while Seraphina’s mother had been a lady-in-waiting who’d used underhanded tactics to gain Father’s favor. Thus, although Seraphina was also Father’s daughter, few truly treated her as a princess, and no one was willing to marry her. Everyone was perplexed as to why Carbonell, a noble Green Peacock, would choose an ordinary Blue Peacock. Only I knew that Carbonell, too, had been reborn. He chose Seraphina because, in our past life, Seraphina had married a Blue Peacock but had surprisingly borne a rare Violet Peacock. Meanwhile, I had given him a low-tier White Peacock. Faced with Carbonell’s choice, Father’s face darkened. “Nonsense! This is Willow’s royal courtship. If you wish to court Seraphina, you may approach me privately. You came to participate in the selection of a suitor, and Willow chose you, yet you scorn her. Where does that leave my daughter’s honor?” Father, advanced in years, valued his reputation above all else. Carbonell’s actions were undeniably a public slap in the face. Carbonell immediately knelt. “Your Majesty, it is not that I scorn Princess Willow, but because Princess Willow is of ill character. She has concealed her true identity as a Black Peacock and deceived everyone!” He spoke with righteous indignation, pointing accusingly at me. The entire hall fell silent, disbelief etched on every face. “What nonsense are you spouting? My Willow is no Black Peacock!” Before Father could speak, Mother stepped forward. 2 “Oh? If Your Majesty the Queen is so certain, why not let Princess Willow reveal her true form? If Princess Willow is a Green Peacock, then I, Carbonell, will offer my life in atonement.” Carbonell looked at Mother with disdain. “If not, then Princess Willow should offer her life in atonement, how about that?” Mother’s face darkened, her brow furrowed. Father’s expression shifted from shock to suspicion, his face instantly grim. More than reputation, Father valued lineage. He was a Green Peacock, yet his other daughters were merely common Blue Peacocks. So, upon my birth, hearing that my peacock color was noble, he had showered all his affection upon me. Now, hearing Carbonell claim I was the lowest-ranked Black Peacock, he practically crushed the armrest of his chair. Mother remained speechless for a long moment. Carbonell’s expression morphed from disdain to smugness. “It’s just revealing your true form, surely that’s not difficult? Is the Queen’s hesitation because I’m correct?” Mother’s face grew even more distressed. Just as she was about to speak, I stepped directly in front of her, openly admitting, “I am indeed not a Green Peacock.” Mother cried out, “Willow, how could you?” Carbonell was forcing me to reveal my true form precisely because he knew I wasn’t a Green Peacock. In our past life, during childbirth, I had revealed my true form due to complications. That had shocked Carbonell. Because everyone believed I was Father’s only Green Peacock daughter, Carbonell had gone to great lengths to marry me. Peacock eggs match the peacock’s color, so after I laid a white egg, Carbonell was enraged. He not only smashed my egg but also slit the throat of my still-in-true-form self. Not only that, he then tossed my dying body into the back mountains, where numerous wild beasts tore me apart. “Good, good, good!” Carbonell laughed loudly, standing up and unfastening his ceremonial sword, throwing it at my feet. “Since you’ve admitted it, then Princess, please offer your life in atonement.” I said, “But I never claimed to be a Green Peacock. What crime have I committed?” When I was born, there were extraordinary phenomena in the sky. The entire Peacock Kingdom’s sky was filled with a rainbow of colors. Everyone said I was an auspicious omen. Only my mother, who bore me, knew that I was a dull, dark egg. She dismissed everyone and wrapped the egg in cloth. On the day I hatched, only she had seen my true form. From childhood, I had never claimed to be a Green Peacock. In my past life, before marrying Carbonell, I had sought him out and told him I was not actually a Green Peacock. At that time, Carbonell told me he didn’t mind; he loved me for who I was. I was touched by him and happily married him, fulfilling my duties as a wife after marriage. But it was only when I died that I learned. He had thought I was testing him, which was why he said those things. “Even if you never claimed to be a Green Peacock, you also never revealed your true form as a Black Peacock. You’ve enjoyed the royal family’s wealth and glory; this is deceiving the populace.” Although there was no law forbidding Black Peacocks from remaining in the royal family, ever since the third Peacock King, any Black Peacock appearing in the royal family would be banished. Just as I was about to say I wasn’t a Black Peacock either, Father spoke. “Enough, Carbonell. Since you wish to marry Seraphina, I shall grant you both a royal marriage.” Carbonell immediately knelt. “Thank Your Majesty. What about Princess Willow?” “Carbonell, this is my private family matter. How long do you intend to meddle?” Carbonell immediately understood Father’s meaning. “This subject is guilty.” Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Carbonell led Seraphina away. As she passed me, Seraphina gave me a meaningful glance. She whispered in my ear, “You have your comeuppance today.” 3 Back at the palace, Father erupted in a furious rage. He demanded to know why Mother and I had deceived him. Just as I was about to tell him that while I wasn’t a Green Peacock, I was certainly not a Black Peacock, Father waved his hand dismissively. “From today forward, I have no daughter named Willow. After Seraphina’s wedding next month, you are to leave the palace.” Father not only banished me but also placed Mother under house arrest. The news spread like wildfire, further solidifying my identity as a Black Peacock. In just one day, I went from being universally adored to universally scorned. My reputation plummeted, and naturally, no man would ever want to marry me. I accepted everything calmly. My days were spent either in my room or in the royal library. That afternoon, the weather was clear, the sun shining brightly. I called for a handmaiden and asked her to watch from below. I transformed into my true form and flew into the sky, momentarily eclipsing the sun. A few moments later, I landed and resumed my human form. “Princess, it’s just as you said! When you spread your wings, your entire body is a rainbow of colors, absolutely stunning!” The handmaiden praised profusely. “You truly are the most beautiful Black Peacock I’ve ever seen.” I smiled faintly. The handmaiden’s words confirmed my suspicion. Just as I was about to ask her to draw my true form, I heard a scoff. “A Black Peacock is still a Black Peacock. No matter how pretty, it’s still the lowest of the Peacock clan.” After the incident, my palace quarters were exceptionally quiet. Only she, it seemed, would bother to come and mock me. I looked up to see Seraphina, resplendent in elegant attire, standing at the doorway. Having caught the eye of Carbonell, the Peacock Kingdom’s foremost gentleman, Seraphina was basking in glory lately. Her clothing and daily provisions were even more luxurious than mine, the once-favored princess. She finally held her head high, parading her authority throughout the palace. I heard several handmaidens from her palace had mysteriously disappeared. “Little sister, how can you still have the nerve to stay in the palace? Father gave you a month’s grace out of respect for Mother. If you were sensible, you’d leave quickly and stop disgracing our royal family.” Seraphina had never liked me, even when I was a child. Only because she envied my favor. I sneered. “Why has my second sister come to my quarters? Are you looking for your handmaidens? Then you’ve come to the wrong place. They’re probably in the maw of the beasts in the back mountains. Aren’t you afraid their spirits will come to take you away if you wander carelessly?” Seraphina’s face paled, and she gritted her teeth. “What are you so proud of? You’re merely a cast-off of the royal family now, while I’m about to marry Carbonell. He’s the most noble Green Peacock, and he said that our union might produce an incredibly noble Violet Peacock.” I gave her a cold glance. “Is that so? Congratulations, congratulations. Then why don’t you hurry and go make babies with Carbonell? Though I should warn you, Carbonell doesn’t look like he can have children.” “How dare you slander my husband? You’re asking for death!” Seraphina raised her hand, aiming to strike me. But she had never been able to beat me in a fight since childhood. This time, she only managed to get hit. Before I could land a few blows, I was pulled away by a great force. Carbonell had appeared. “Who allowed you to bully Seraphina?” Seeing Carbonell, Seraphina instantly transformed into a delicate damsel, leaning into him, pointing at me and saying in a sickly sweet voice, “Carbonell, you’re finally here. She cursed me, saying I wouldn’t be able to bear your child.” “How could that be? You will definitely bear me a perfect Violet Peacock.” Carbonell gently caressed her face. “As for her, I doubt she’ll ever bear even a White Peacock in this lifetime.” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but let out a cynical “Ha!” “I wonder who won’t be able to bear children.” Carbonell’s face turned cold. Carbonell had a secret, known only to me. He was infertile. In my past life, when I learned this, I had wanted to say that having no children was fine; as long as we loved each other, nothing else mattered. Carbonell, however, didn’t see it that way. To secure the throne, he begged me to take the fertility herb, a plant that induces childbirth. That herb, once ingested, would consume one’s inner essence, draining all vital energy. That was why I revealed my true form during childbirth. Not only that, using this herb had severe side effects. Headaches and nausea were minor; the most unbearable symptom was an itch deep in the bones, no matter how much you scratched, it wouldn’t go away. Perhaps fearing I would reveal more, Carbonell quickly led Seraphina away. After they left, the handmaiden came out with the finished drawing. The moment I saw the portrait, my pupils dilated. This painting completely confirmed my suspicions. I had spent these past days in the royal library, poring over ancient texts. Old records stated that Obsidian Peacocks were inherently dark in color, but under sunlight, they displayed a rainbow of hues. An Obsidian Peacock, after consuming the fertility herb, would lay a white egg, and upon hatching, a violet phoenix would emerge. So, I was not a Black Peacock at all. I was the legendary Obsidian Peacock. And my egg was not a White Peacock, but a high-grade Violet Peacock. Because no one had ever seen an Obsidian Peacock, Carbonell simply didn’t recognize its true value. Knowing this, I told no one. Now, everyone condemned me, and even if I spoke, no one would believe me. To prove myself, I would have to lay an egg and hatch it. Who could I find to lay an egg with? My reputation was ruined; no decent peacock would ever mate with me. There was no choice. I had to buy a husband from the black market. After some careful choosing, I finally picked one that was pleasing to the eye. His appearance was remarkably striking, though he was, unfortunately, a multi-colored rooster. No matter. Ancient texts stated that an Obsidian Peacock could mate with any bird and still produce an auspicious offspring of Violet Peacock or higher. As long as my genes were involved, the child would be perfect. The first day I brought the man home, I started stripping his clothes. His ears were beet-red, and he clutched the ties of his clothes tightly. “Pr-princess, don’t we need to… cultivate some feelings before… doing this?” Cultivate feelings? How troublesome. I released my grip, smiling at him. “How do you think we should cultivate them?” “At-at least we should get to know each other first.” “Oh.” I sat back down. “My name is Willow. What’s yours?” “Zach.” Alright. Done getting to know each other, I immediately pounced. Time for business.

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1 Seven years after Jackson and I split, we met at the City Clerk’s office. He was picking up his marriage license; I was there for my divorce. Jackson smirked at me. “You went on about love when you cheated. Now you’re here getting divorced?” I replied calmly, “I’ve always been bad at judging people.” His face turned cold for a moment. Then he showed everyone my secondhand app and announced loudly: “Seven years married, and you’re still selling what I gave you — three million six hundred eighty thousand in total.” He snatched my divorce papers, checked the compensation, and sneered: “With the twenty‑five thousand eight hundred and seven cents from your ex, you still owe me three million six hundred fifty‑four thousand one hundred ninety‑nine dollars and seven cents.” “Why seven cents?” his new wife asked.“Discounted iced water,” he said. The crowd laughed at the so‑called gold‑digger’s humiliation. … “Trying to milk money from rich folks, eh? They’re way too shrewd to spend an extra cent on someone not worth it.” “That seven cents must be for her water on the way home, telling her to get lost, hahahaha.” I listened to the ridicule, feeling little ripple within. I silently scanned the code and transferred the money back to him. Still, a pang of disappointment lingered. My appointment for hospice care, it seemed, would have to be canceled. I dreaded pain, you see. The stares from the crowd were too intense, so I retreated to the restroom. The message I’d sent to my husband, Caleb, half an hour ago, remained unanswered. I sighed unconsciously. “He’s still not here?” Jackson’s voice suddenly echoed behind me, startling me. I instinctively recoiled a few steps, my too-thin back hitting the washbasin with a painful thud. Frowning, I tried to evade his probing gaze. “He’s busy. He’ll be a little late.” Jackson raised an eyebrow, proceeding to wash his hands. “Looks like your standards for boyfriends have really dropped.” He spoke with an air of indifference. I was speechless, unsure how to reply. It was true, when I was with Jackson, he never let me suffer the slightest inconvenience. If I wanted fruit, a mere glance from me would have him peeling and slicing it, serving it on a platter. If we had to walk a few extra steps on a date, he’d worry about my legs hurting, and without a second thought for the onlookers, he’d carry me. As for making me wait on a date, that was an absolute impossibility. “Well, the depth of love differs, so naturally, the tolerance varies too,” I retorted, though my fingers unconsciously sent another urgent message to Caleb, “Aren’t you coming? If not, we won’t get the papers today.” “Next time, I’m not sure I’ll even be able to make it to the office…” Before I could finish typing, a signed divorce agreement arrived from him. “Give it to the staff. They’ll handle it.” His words were curt, as if speaking more to me was a chore. Jackson saw it and scoffed, “Back then, you guarded him so fiercely, never letting me know his identity.” “Guess I won’t get to see him today either.” “Mr. Dalton, isn’t it a bit… unseemly for you to be so invested in another woman’s ex? Especially if your wife were to find out,” I said, pocketing my phone and feigning a carefree tone. I looked up to see Fiona, her face beaming. “It’s fine, really. Everyone enjoys seeing a trashy ex getting their just deserts, don’t they?” With that, she forcefully pushed me aside and wrapped her arm around Jackson’s waist. “Honey, you really shouldn’t have been so good to Ms. Annabelle, considering you were the best of her past boyfriends.” “Three million dollars isn’t even enough to buy the bag I’m carrying; it’s quite embarrassing to recall, isn’t it?” Jackson hugged Fiona back, saying softly, “Alright, let’s not bring up my past disgraces.” “Spending three million on someone undeserving, I’d say that’s already too much.” In the three years I dated Jackson, I never asked him for any gifts. But back then, Jackson, who was just starting his career, insisted, “No way. Our Annabelle must have everything other wealthy women have.” Yet now, he stood with another woman, demanding I repay him under the guise of being a gold-digger. “I’ve settled the debt. Since it’s a sore subject, I won’t linger.” I nodded slightly, ready to leave. But Fiona, with a faint smile, held me back. 2 “Annabelle, don’t be upset. Our Jack was also at fault for what happened back then.” “Blame him for being too naive, for being a poor judge of character. With me around, he won’t be tricked again.” “And I’d like to give Annabelle a chance to make amends. We haven’t even taken our wedding photo yet, and I hear Annabelle is an excellent photographer. Why don’t you take ours?” “Make amends?” My fists clenched in an instant. “Fiona, what right do you have to say that? You knew everything.” Fiona froze, seemingly surprised by my bluntness. “Knew what?” My bony hand was suddenly gripped by a large one. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I was back seven years ago, the moment Fiona pleaded with me to save Jackson. But when I looked up, I met Jackson’s bottomless eyes. He seemed surprised by how thin I had become and unconsciously loosened his grip. I snapped back to reality, pulled my hand free, and hid my unsightly hands. Under Fiona’s warning gaze, I smiled and replied, “You know I’m not just any photographer you can hire cheaply.” “My husband made a bad bet, so I naturally need to squeeze more money out of my ex-boyfriend. Ms. Fiona, since you’ve picked up my slack, you wouldn’t be stingy about paying a bit more, would you?” Jackson’s tense face suddenly crumbled, finally giving way to a sneer. “Annabelle, I really shouldn’t have held such unrealistic expectations for someone like you.” Hearing me say that, Fiona also breathed a sigh of relief and casually draped her arm over Jackson’s. Gently stroking Jackson’s back, she said, “There, there, don’t get angry over a woman like this. If she wants money, we’ll just consider it giving alms to a beggar.” Inside the photography studio, through the camera lens, I finally dared to truly look at Jackson. Thankfully, the surgery seemed to have left no lingering effects on him. The exquisitely tailored bespoke suit made him look dashing and distinguished, perhaps even more handsome than he was seven years ago. Suddenly, Jackson lifted Fiona’s veil, swept her into his arms, and gave her a deep, lingering kiss through the veil. My hands, holding the camera, trembled involuntarily, several times lifting and then dropping weakly. My breathing became unconsciously shallow and rapid. Jackson’s disgusted gaze landed on me, his voice laced with sarcasm: “Annabelle, what’s the act? You don’t think I’d still feel sorry for you, letting you snap a few shots and get away with it, do you?” “No, not at all. The customer is always right; it’s my fault.” I tried my best to steady my breath, using all my strength to balance both hands. That day, I took over a thousand photos in one afternoon, my hands shaking so much they didn’t feel like my own. But Jackson and Fiona picked and chose, always finding something unsatisfactory. It wasn’t until the City Clerk’s office was about to close that they reluctantly selected the very first picture I had taken. Hearing this, I almost coughed up blood. As I walked out of the City Clerk’s office, the heavens decided to unleash a torrential downpour. On the ride-sharing app, the number of cars waiting ahead was 99+. My winter boots, soaked from waiting, grew heavy and cold. Jackson’s Cayenne screeched to a halt in front of me, splashing cold water all over me. After a day of turmoil, I was practically collapsing. Fiona rolled down the window, feigning kindness. “Ms. Annabelle, do you need a ride? I can have my Jack drop you off.” Just as I was about to politely refuse, Fiona signaled the driver to push me into the passenger seat. The moment my foot touched the floor, I sensed something amiss. Looking down, I saw it was the scarf I had spent five months knitting for Jackson years ago. The pristine white scarf was now stained and dirty, clearly having been used as a floor mat for a long time. “This scarf, I think it was a gift from you to Jack, wasn’t it, Annabelle? I’m so sorry, Jack said he felt sick every time he saw it. I thought, well, we can’t waste your efforts, so I just used it as a footrest for guests. You don’t mind, do you, Annabelle?” I gave a faint smile. “Of course not. It’s perfectly fitting for useless things to be handled this way.” Jackson impatiently tapped the driver’s back, and the driver immediately accelerated sharply. All the blood rushed to my head in an instant; I felt so nauseous I nearly threw up. Jackson knew I got carsick; he was deliberately trying to get back at me. Midway, Fiona suddenly announced she wanted dessert from North End, and they simply abandoned me on the side of the road. I checked the map, and I was even farther from my destination. Finally, utterly exhausted, I made it back to my ex-husband’s villa in the suburbs, only to find that all my belongings had been packed and sent back to my parents’ house. I had no choice but to brave the rain and return home, but as I reached the doorstep, I saw my luggage piled like trash next to the bins. The housekeeper, who saw me first, said, “Ms. Annabelle, I’m so sorry, but this was the lady of the house’s (my mother’s) instruction. She said your brother is getting married, and your room will be used as a nursery, so you’ll have to move out.” I said nothing, silently picking up the light bag of luggage. But then, I ran straight into my mother who was leaving the house. She looked at me as if I were a plague, her face instantly twisting into an expression of disgust. “Useless thing! You get married and then returned like damaged goods, can’t even help your brother one bit.” “How did I ever give birth to such a loose woman? Jackson treated you so well back then, and you didn’t appreciate it. Now you’ve backed the wrong horse, haven’t you? And you’ve dragged our whole family down with you. Why don’t you just find a place to die somewhere? Why bother coming back?” With that, she grabbed a broom to hit me. Luckily, the housekeeper intervened, giving me a chance to escape. 3 I rented a small apartment near the publishing house I often worked with. Opening my suitcase, I found that over half the items were related to Jackson. There were the paper hearts he’d casually folded for me, candid photos I’d taken of him sleeping, and photos I’d secretly taken of his recovery progress after we’d broken up. There were also news clippings of his various career achievements that I’d collected over the years. Every time I saw these things, I felt that all my suffering had been worth it. The rent almost depleted all my savings. I could only manage one night’s rest before rushing to the publishing house the next day, hoping to inquire about the delayed payment for my new book. After marrying Caleb, he never spent a single penny on me. Writing and publishing books had been my only income these past years. But the moment I entered the publishing house, everyone cast strange glances my way. “That’s her, that’s her! She’s so materialistic, abandoned her boyfriend for money, and then beautified herself as a victim in her book. It’s truly disgusting.” “Not only did she not help her boyfriend when he was sick and bankrupt, she kicked him when he was down and ran off with a rich guy. Classy.” “Do you think she knows she’s offended Mr. Dalton, and still comes to our company because she thinks we’re stupid and easy to bully? How unlucky are we to get stuck with someone like her? Now all our projects are on hold. Oh my god, am I going to lose my job?” “Hah, she even wants to use our channels to clear her name. Honestly, some people’s shamelessness knows no bounds.” “Do you think she’s crying herself to sleep every night now, seeing how successful Mr. Dalton has become?” I’d grown accustomed to hearing such things over the years, so I didn’t pay much mind. I just hadn’t expected Jackson’s actions to be so swift, even implicating the publishing house, which made me feel a pang of guilt. Soon, the editor-in-chief called me into his office and handed me a revised copy of a book. I flipped through it; the general content was not much different from my original version. However, my character had changed. I was now portrayed as the cruel ex who heartlessly abandoned her boyfriend during his toughest times. Fiona, on the other hand, had become the woman who bravely stood by Jackson when his career was at its lowest and he was gravely ill, staying devotedly by his side until his resurgence. Even the author’s name was changed directly to Fiona. “This is my book! Why is it attributed to someone else? And by what right can someone else just casually revise it?” I glared angrily at the editor-in-chief, but he snatched the book from my hands. “Annabelle, get this straight: you were the one who deceived us first. Since it’s a story based on real events, why didn’t you tell us? Why did you hide the truth and twist the facts?” “Let me be frank with you. Your book is excellent, and it won a major literary award. But now Mr. Dalton’s wife wants that award, so you have to give it to her. This is the compensation you owe her, understand?” “And setting that aside, our publishing house needs to survive. In our past collaborations, when did we ever treat you unfairly? You can’t bite the hand that feeds you.” With things laid out so plainly, I knew further argument was pointless. Jackson’s influence was too vast; I couldn’t deny him what he wanted. Dejected, I returned home, still worried about how I’d manage living expenses, only to run into my brother at my doorstep. He was carrying a large bag of my favorite snacks. My relationship with my brother wasn’t particularly good, nor was it bad. Most of our conflicts stemmed from our mother’s unfairness. After entering the house and seeing the room I was staying in, my brother’s eyes welled up. “Sis, actually, Mom and Dad miss you a lot. They’re just stubborn.” “I’ve talked to them. Everyone wants you to come back for dinner on Christmas Eve. What family quarrel can’t be mended over a meal?” With that, he sent me a restaurant address, urging me to attend. Perhaps the impending death made me a little afraid, or maybe Christmas Eve was just too cold, but by some strange impulse, I went. Seeing Jackson, the groom, and Fiona, the bride, in the hotel banquet hall, I finally understood their intentions. My mother was using me to entertain Jackson and Fiona. No wonder I was doused with cold water the moment I entered the hotel. No wonder all three elevators in the hotel coincidentally broke down at the same time, forcing me to gasp and climb twenty-plus floors. 4 Gazing at the man surrounded by the crowd, my fingers clenched. He saw me too, a mocking smile on his face. “You came to my wedding dressed like that?” he said, looking at my soaked shirt and jeans. “What, trying to snag a rich husband at my wedding, too?” “Well, I suppose any man here today, if you latch onto him, would be enough to support you for the rest of your life. You’re certainly clever.” With that, he stuffed a wad of cash into my cleavage. “My wife needs a bridesmaid. Serve her well today, and I’ll give you three million six hundred eighty thousand.” Hearing that figure, my heart twisted in pain, uncontrollably. Three million six hundred eighty thousand—that was everything Jackson had invested in me back then. Now, he intended to return it this way. Taking several deep breaths, I forced back the tears and managed a smile. “Alright, but I’ll need payment upfront. I’m afraid Mr. Dalton might change his mind.” Jackson’s face twisted into an expression of extreme disgust. Gritting his teeth, he scanned the code. Then, with a snap of his fingers, a waiter brought out over a hundred bottles of hard liquor. Two days ago, during my check-up, the doctor said my condition was worsening faster than expected. After downing over 100 bottles of this alcohol, I wasn’t sure if I’d even make it through the night. But thinking of all these years of hardship, I felt death might actually be a release. Jackson, with Fiona in his arms, began to toast. Their friends knew the story of Jackson and me, and they knew how devastated he had been when I abandoned him. He refused treatment, wouldn’t take his medicine, and stood dumbly outside my house every day, demanding an explanation. On my wedding day, his mother, desperate, locked him up, but he smashed a glass window with his bare fists. When he appeared before me, he was covered in blood, but I didn’t even spare him a second glance, only telling him to get lost. Jackson’s friends loathed me, and they mercilessly forced drinks on me, even, at Fiona’s subtle nod, adding shards of glass to my wine glass. I drank until my mouth bled, and I threw up directly. Seeing this, Jackson’s gaze wavered. Just as he was about to speak, Fiona rushed over, steadying me. “That’s enough, all of you! Even though Annabelle betrayed Jack years ago, she’s suffered so terribly all these years that she’s received her retribution. You don’t need to kick her when she’s down.” As she said this, she made to help me up, but whispered in my ear, “Actually, Jack’s illness wasn’t a terminal disease at all. A simple surgery would have cured him. The heart you donated? I fed it to my dog that very day.” In that instant, all the humiliation and painful memories of these past years flooded my mind. My brain buzzed, and all my rationality collapsed. I lunged at Fiona like a madwoman, “Fiona, you deserve to die, you deserve to die!” But before I could even touch Fiona’s collar, Jackson brutally kicked me away. A sharp pain exploded in my ribs; I felt as if every bone in my body had shattered. Jackson held Fiona tightly in his arms, his face filled with anguished concern. Fiona, still shaken, whimpered, “Jack, I was just trying to help Annabelle. Why did she do this to me?” Jackson turned his head to look at me, his face so dark it seemed to drip ink. “Annabelle, you really are rotten to the core!” “Get down on your knees and apologize to Fiona.” When I didn’t move, he kicked my stomach hard, then grabbed my hair and yanked me up. “Don’t even think about leaving here alive until you’ve kowtowed 99 times!” His friends rushed in, forcing my head down, slamming it against the ground again and again. Finally, from sheer exhaustion, I passed out. Just before losing consciousness entirely, I saw my parents rushing towards me like madmen, not to check on my injuries, but to pick up the money that had fallen from my chest. Jackson froze, his gaze at me growing complicated. When the paramedics asked for the patient’s family, my parents and brother all denied knowing me. Jackson was about to say something, but a commotion broke out in the crowd. “The patient’s husband is here, everyone make way!” The moment he saw the man, Jackson’s pupils contracted sharply.

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My childhood friend and I joined a dating reality show, aiming to be the ultimate sloths, all for that juicy appearance fee. We’d burst into laughter during tasks, then argue while watching other couples. Even when the surprise guests arrived, we were still just munching on sunflower seeds, enjoying the drama. The next second, my friend’s face went white as he pointed at the big-shot socialite from the city’s elite circles: “Your ex-husband!” I, my hand trembling, pointed at the high-society heiress: “Your ex-wife!” We scrambled to the director, begging to quit. The director just smirked. “Ten times the penalty for breach of contract. Immediate payment.” As Mike and I exchanged a look, we knew. We’d fallen straight into a wolf’s den. 1 Mike and I, we were inseparable, practically grew up in the same sandbox. Our families always joked we were two peas in a pod, destined to cause trouble. Freshmen year of college, a photo of us went viral, and somehow, we tumbled into the entertainment industry. To avoid rumors, and for a ridiculous sense of pride, we agreed to act like strangers, vowing to meet at the top. Turns out, we never made it to the top. We rolled down halfway up the mountain. After years of struggling, we were still nobodies, ridiculed by netizens as “Wooden Beauty” and “Stone-Faced Hunk.” That wasn’t even the worst of it. On New Year’s Eve, with fireworks exploding overhead, we squatted on the curb, crying like heartbroken puppies. We’d both been dumped on the same day. Mike’s nose was running, and he snarled, “I’m never playing lapdog for that woman again!” I used his ridiculously expensive down jacket as a tissue to wipe my tears. “I broke up too! For real this time! Who wants to put up with such an arrogant man anyway? Let someone else do it!” We ended up stumbling home, dead drunk, leaning on each other. Sobering up, we were completely disillusioned. This rotten industry was unbearable. “Let’s just quit.” “Agreed!” Mike was quicker to respond than anyone. We were both graduates from prestigious universities; we weren’t worried about finding work. Just as I was about to contact a lawyer to send out my termination letter, my agent, Jenna, tossed a gig my way. A live-streamed dating show, its main selling point was being “wild.” “Willow, you’re taking this show whether you like it or not. You’re quitting anyway, so you might as well go be a cautionary tale. Be a little crazy, a little dramatic. Infamy is still fame, got it?” Why should I? I was leaving; why should I be a stepping stone for others? I’d just typed out, “Jenna, I’m done. Whoever wants this crap can have it…” when another message from Jenna popped up. “Ten million dollars for the appearance fee.” The finger hovering over the delete key instantly froze. Ten million? I quickly erased my text, replying demurely, “It’s not about the money.” Jenna: “Ten million per episode.” Hiss— I immediately replied, “Jenna, to be honest, I’m quite the wild card in my private life. This gig is perfect for me!” 2 After signing the contract, feeling utterly pleased, I opened my door and bumped right into Mike, who’d come over to scrounge for food. Our eyes met, and a strange, guilty air hung between us. Wait, I was guilty because I’d sold out for money, but what was he guilty about? My parents and Aunt Sarah were chatting animatedly. My mom’s eyes sparkled. “It’s finally happening? I knew those two kids had something going on!” Aunt Sarah was even more excited. “I’ve got the dowry ready; we can propose anytime!” Just as the conversation was veering towards grandchildren, Mike quickly interrupted. “Stop, stop, stop! Willow and I are talking work, purely work!” He dragged me onto the balcony and closed the door. Mike’s gaze darted around. “Uh, have you sent your termination letter yet?” I picked at my fingernails, stammering, “Not yet… I still have a mall appearance event to finish.” I couldn’t very well tell him I was going to a dating show to rake in cash, it would make me seem so spineless. Hearing that, Mike instantly straightened his back. “Coincidentally, I haven’t sent mine either. I still have a cameo to do in a movie.” We exchanged a look, both seeing “like hell you do” in the other’s eyes. But neither of us called the other out. This unspoken understanding stemmed from our shared best friend, Miles. Back in the day, Mike, Miles, and I were the ultimate trio. But since Mike and Miles often bickered, I became the double agent. In front of Mike, I’d denounce Miles: “That Miles is so stingy, let’s not hang out with him!” Mike, pleased, would give all his snacks to me. Then, turning to Miles, I’d sigh: “Actually, Mike’s quite pitiful, just don’t bother with him.” Miles, touched, would treat me to meals all over the city. Until one day, Miles treated me to crab, and Mike gave me two dried persimmons. That night, I ended up in the emergency room. The two “creditors” squared up at my bedside, and my double-agent scheme completely blew up. Miles sneered, “I’m stingy?” Mike gritted his teeth, “I’m pitiful?” I huddled under the blanket, shivering. “The doctor said all that, don’t blame me…” Now, bringing up old times, we both tacitly chose to keep quiet. 3 Three days later, on a secluded island, at the set of the dating show. I walked in a flowing red backless gown, teetering on stilettos, ready to make a grand exit from my showbiz career. According to the script, I was supposed to choose a male guest for a romantic encounter. But when I looked up, I saw Mike, looking absurdly dapper in a suit. The sea breeze ruffled through his hair as the cameras zoomed in frantically. The production team practically wanted to emblazon “FATED ROMANCE” across the screen. I pressed my lips together, desperately trying not to laugh. Mike’s cheeks puffed out, clearly holding back a giggle himself. The moment our fingertips touched, we both burst. “Hahahaha!” Our laughter startled the seagulls and utterly bewildered the viewers watching the live stream. “Are these two crazy?” “Didn’t they say they weren’t close? What’s with this level of synchronicity?” “Can I get a refund? I came here for sweet romance, not a comedy show!” We couldn’t care less. We found a corner and sat down, coasting along. On the surface, we were on our phones, but in reality, we were bombing Miles in our “Anti-Scumbag Alliance” group chat. Me: “Dr. Miles, quick, watch the live stream. How’s Mike and my acting?” Mike: “Miles, isn’t my suit cool?” Miles: “Get lost. I just got off surgery; I don’t have time to watch you two monkeys.” Me: “Don’t be so cold! How about we talk about that time you were chased by a goose as a kid?” Mike: “Or your heroic feat of throwing a firecracker into a cowpat?” Miles: “…It seems you two have really moved on, if you’re still in the mood to tease me.” With that one sentence, the group chat instantly went silent. That familiar pang in my chest returned. Just then, the show provided red wine, and Mike and I drank it down like water, glass after glass. Once the alcohol kicked in, our chatter was unstoppable. We completely forgot about the dozens of hidden cameras around us. Mike’s eyes were red, his voice choked. “Willow, do you think she never loved me? I was so obedient, so good. If she said east, I’d never go west, but she still dumped me.” I banged on the table, even more agitated than him. “What’s that compared to? My ex was the real piece of work! He always had a cold face, like I owed him eight hundred thousand dollars. If I so much as glanced at someone else, he’d accuse me of being unfaithful. Even my breathing was wrong!” The live stream exploded. “Holy crap! Is this paid content?!” “Who are these two nobodies’ exes? This sounds so juicy!” “Mike’s crying makes me want to wipe his tears. Such a puppy!” “Willow’s mouth is amazing, this is genuine!” Just as we were about to drop more bombshells, Miles’s call came through. The ringing was jarring, instantly snapping us awake. Miles roared on the other end of the line, “You two! Do you want to be blacklisted tomorrow?! That’s a live stream! A live stream!” Mike and I exchanged a look, cold sweat instantly breaking out. I gave a dry laugh, giving a thumbs-up to the camera. “Mr. Thompson’s line delivery is amazing! What do you all think of that impromptu performance?” Mike immediately caught on, chiming in, “Ms. Davies isn’t bad either, full of emotion and clearly layered! Come on, let’s continue to discuss that script…” 4 After that night of “madness,” Mike and I actually became popular. Netizens were speculating about who our awful exes could possibly be. We, however, weren’t worried at all. Those two big shots, one a high-and-mighty business tycoon, the other an arrogant heiress from a prominent family, how could they stoop to appear on an entertainment show like this? Unless the sun rose from the west. The next day, the sun shone brightly. Mike and I each grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds, squatting in the shade, watching the other guests flirt. “Look at that innocent girl. Her eyes are practically melting. She must have a thing for that movie star.” “Give me a break, that’s acting. I bet fifty cents the movie star likes the sophisticated lady.” The comment section was filled with laughter. “Are these two here to be commentators?” “Never seen such down-to-earth celebrities, I love them.” “They’re like the old folks at the village entrance.” Just as we were engrossed in our snacking, the director’s megaphone blared. “Attention all guests, two mystery guests will be arriving on the island shortly. Please prepare to welcome them.” Mike and I exchanged a glance and continued cracking seeds. “Hope a handsome guy comes, to cleanse my eyes.” “A beautiful woman would be nice too, even if I can’t pursue her, she’d still be pleasing to look at.” The next second, a yacht docked. A man and a woman stepped off the boat. The man was tall and imposing, radiating a powerful aura, his face as cold as if he’d just been pulled from an ice chamber. The woman wore designer clothes, sunglasses concealing her eyes, walking with a confident stride, every movement oozing wealth. The live stream instantly erupted. “Holy crap! Is that Mr. Buckley? The head of the Buckley Group?!” “Is that Ms. Vance next to him? The Vance family’s heiress, just returned from abroad?” “Did the production team sell a kidney? How did they manage to invite these two titans?!” The sunflower seeds in Mike’s and my hands scattered with a clatter. Our smiles froze on our faces, looking worse than crying. I trembled, pointing at the man. “Mike, that’s… your ex-husband…” Mike shivered, pointing at the woman. “Willow, that’s… your ex-wife…” Run! That was the only thought in my head. We both bolted towards the production team. “Director! We want to quit! We’ll pay the penalty! We’ll sell everything we own if we have to!” The director slowly sipped his tea, holding up a single finger. “The penalty is ten times, and it must be paid in cash, immediately.” Mike and I’s legs went limp; we nearly collapsed. We were doomed. This time, we were truly trapped in a setup. Before we could even think of a countermeasure, two familiar, chilling voices sounded from behind us. “Why the rush? Don’t you want to say hello to old friends?”

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Waking up in the middle of the night, my wife, Evelyn Lee, was crying, pleading with me to let her see that young man one last time. “Just one last goodbye, and I’ll come straight back. Please, I’m begging you, alright?” In our seven years of marriage, this was only the second time she’d spoken to me with such a cajoling, desperate tone. The first was when I walked in on the young man, disheveled, scrambling out of her office. Afraid I’d make a scene, she’d clutched my hand, pleading: “Darling, I promise I’ll break it off with him. Don’t divorce me, I’d die without you. Can you… can you do that for me?” I gave her a chance. And just as she promised, she devoted herself entirely to our home, becoming the flawless wife everyone admired. Until tonight. I flicked on the bedside lamp, looked into her eyes, and answered steadily: “Go. Don’t leave yourself with any regrets.” I had none left. I hoped she wouldn’t either. 1 The sudden glare stung Evelyn’s eyes, making her instinctively squeeze them shut. The tear tracks on her face became starkly clear, glaringly so. A sudden, bitter laugh caught in my throat; the whole scene felt absurd, almost comical. This was the woman who, in her youth, had shielded me from a thug’s swinging rebar, almost crippling her right arm, and hadn’t even flinched. Now, she was weeping like this, heartbroken over the departure of a twenty-something boy. Her drunken haze slowly receded as she scrutinized my expression. After a few seconds, she sagged like a spring that had been taut for too long, collapsing onto the bed. “You can yell like you used to, you can slap my face and forbid me from going.” “You don’t have to pretend you don’t care, just to make me feel guilty, do you?” “It’s tiresome, Ethan Pierson.” Her face was a mask of suppressed pain. Ever since Evelyn had “returned to the family,” these suffocating silences had become common. Outsiders, oblivious to the undercurrents, would marvel at how our marriage, even after the seven-year itch, seemed to grow stronger. They’d joke about Professor Lee, a distinguished academic, rushing home from work like a lovesick teenager, unable to bear a second away from me. My photo graced her social media profile; my picture adorned her background. She even handed over her phone, allowing me to check it whenever I wished. She was the picture of a devoted, perfect wife. But only we knew the stormy seas churning beneath that seemingly tranquil surface. After that incident, I became hypersensitive, fragile, and my words grew sharp, laced with bitterness. If she complimented a tie, saying it made me look younger, I’d accuse her: “Is it because you have someone younger, fresher in your heart now, that you’re suddenly complaining I’m old?” She once took me on a date to a trendy restaurant. Everything was going well until I heard her casually say, “Their signature dish is quite good.” I immediately erupted, demanding to know why she’d brought me to a place she’d already visited with another man. But I wasn’t like this before. 2 I used to be cheerful, optimistic, the life of the party for my family and friends. How had I become this person? Honestly, the first time I caught her cheating, I thought about divorce. She was the one who, back then, had spent an entire month begging me, swearing countless times that she’d never make the same mistake again. Yet, later, she was also the one who would look at me with a cold face when I lost my temper, asking if I was done throwing a tantrum. During one of my worst breakdowns, I smashed almost everything in the house. I pointed at her, my voice raw and hoarse, shouting: “Do you think I only forgave you that one time?!” “No, it’s every sleepless night, every time the memory resurfaces, I forgive you again.” “Why is it that you’re the one who made the mistake, but I’m the one who suffers?!” I hadn’t shattered the glass, but every day, I felt like I was walking over it. Tonight was our eighth wedding anniversary. Everything had started so well. Evelyn, uncharacteristically, had drunk a lot. With every sip, she’d whisper “I love you.” After a hundred repetitions of these sweet words, both our faces were flushed, as if we were back in the throes of first love. I even silently thought, maybe, just maybe, I should truly forgive her. Pretend nothing ever happened. But only moments ago, a stark realization hit me: how utterly foolish I had been. Her emotional display wasn’t born of love for me. It was grief over another man’s departure. And just like that, I felt no regrets. I pulled out the divorce papers, already prepared in my bedside table, and handed them to her. “Evelyn Lee, I’m letting you go.” But she sprang up from the bed, startled. “Ethan Pierson, are you trying to drive me to my death?!” “Steve Pierson is leaving for Toronto soon. We’ll never have a chance to meet again after this.” “I just want to see him off, as his professor. Is that really so wrong?!” Her phone rang, a sudden, jarring sound. Her voice, as she answered, was incredibly gentle. “Yes, wait for me. I’ll be there in half an hour.” Before she left, Evelyn threw the divorce papers into the trash. “Everything can wait until I get back.” “But divorce? Don’t even think about it.” The door slammed shut with a bang. In the room, only my quiet sobs remained. I had checked. There were no flights to Toronto tonight. Sure enough, a short while later, Steve sent me a picture. Evelyn, naked, was nestled securely in his arms, sleeping peacefully. “Professor Lee says she can only sleep soundly when she’s with me now.” “Do you really think she’s not divorcing you because she still loves you? She just doesn’t want to jeopardize her promotion to associate dean next week.” I looked at the crumpled divorce papers in the trash, the ones that had proposed splitting our assets evenly. I suddenly smiled. She was the one who betrayed me. The one who should pay the price. 3 Evelyn and I were college sweethearts. After graduation, she stayed on at the university, while I pursued a career in a multinational corporation. But after we got married, citing her busy university projects, she asked if I would consider quitting my job to focus on our home. At the time, I was embroiled in a messy corporate power struggle, so I agreed. But now, I was divorcing her. Returning to the workforce was inevitable. However, being out of touch with society for so long, the years of blank space on my resume would make it difficult to find a job with the same benefits as before. So I decided to go abroad for further studies, which would also fill the gap on my CV. As I was using the study computer, browsing doctoral program requirements for universities abroad, I stumbled upon a private folder. The title: [To My Dearest] Those three short words gradually blurred before my eyes. As if disbelieving, I typed in my birthday, her birthday, our wedding anniversary. Stubbornly, I tried every number with special meaning to us. But none worked. Until I opened Steve’s social media, found his birthday, and entered it. The folder unlocked. I already knew the answer, yet seeing the result with my own eyes still brought a surge of suffocating pain to my chest. The folder was a hefty 4.3 GB. It was meticulously filled with everything related to Steve Pierson. The razor he casually discarded, she picked it up and took a picture of it against her chest. Videos of Steve sleeping, head on the desk, when they were rushing projects together in the studio. Voice messages Steve sent her, his way of addressing her, from the initially respectful “Professor Lee” to later “Sister,” and then, “Wife.” Evelyn had carefully noted her feelings for each entry. She called him her “little moon,” writing: [My little moon, I often feel like a sick dog chained up, and only when I occasionally look up at you does my soul find release.] [That day you said you would give yourself to me as a gift, but I refused. Not because I didn’t love you, but because I dared not defile you.] She hated that she hadn’t met him sooner, and even more, that she was already married when she did. I felt like a thief, prying into someone else’s privacy, peeking through the screen at their bone-deep love affair. The last entry was from the day I discovered their affair. Evelyn had written a suicide note, filled with nothing but guilt towards Steve. She had changed her address for him; she called him, my husband. [My husband, if I should unfortunately pass away one day, all my assets will belong to you.] [As for Ethan Pierson, I have wronged him. Just leave him enough money to live out his golden years.] My blood ran cold. My hand, clutching the mouse, trembled uncontrollably. My stomach churned, and I retched into the trash can. It was at that exact moment that Evelyn returned. Her eyes immediately darted to the computer screen, and she panicked, stammering defensively: “N-no, it’s not like that, darling, listen to me.” “I just wanted to vent my emotions. There’s nothing else between us…” Before she could say more, I wiped my mouth and sat upright. Looking into her eyes, I said each word distinctly: “I’m giving you two choices: either make him leave now.” “Or I’ll expose all your disgusting secrets!” 4 Just as I expected, Evelyn chose the first option. Not only did she fear for her own career, but she also couldn’t bear the thought of even a speck of tarnish on her “little moon.” So when Steve Pierson came to find me, I wasn’t surprised. In fact, I was almost hoping he would. I chose a quiet coffee shop for our meeting, a place Evelyn and I used to frequent. Steve looked just like his social media photos – full of youthful collagen, vibrant and energetic. But he also had the common flaw of the young: he was too impatient. “You saw the photos I sent you, right? We’ve already… slept together.” “Tsk tsk, I just casually mentioned leaving, and she got so worked up.” “But thanks to you, really. If you hadn’t pushed her so hard, how else would she have appreciated how good I am?” He was like a puffed-up rooster, eager to provoke me into divorcing Evelyn. But I just smiled indifferently, my gaze falling on the wristwatch he wore. “A classic from R-Brand. Evelyn certainly spares no expense for you.” Steve’s lips curved into a smug smile. But before he could speak, I continued: “I’ve looked into your family background. You can’t afford a six-figure watch.” “Little brother, let me give you a legal heads-up. The money she’s spent on you is marital property. If we divorce, you’ll have to return half of it.” “Though I assume most of it’s already spent, isn’t it?” “Or, I could pay a visit to your parents. Then the entire village will know that you, Steve Pierson, are someone’s mistress in college!” Steve’s smile froze. He sprang to his feet, his once handsome features twisting into something momentarily grotesque. “You wouldn’t dare!” “You can test me and see if I dare!” I spoke, and even though I remained seated, my presence overwhelmed him. Just then, the aggressive young man suddenly glanced behind me. The next second, he quickly grabbed his coffee cup and splashed it all over his face. When he spoke again, his eyes were red. “Brother, I’m sorry. There’s truly nothing going on between me and Professor Lee.” “I’m leaving the country soon. Please, stop tormenting me, alright?” A rush of hurried footsteps came from behind me. I had never seen Evelyn in such a frantic state. She immediately pulled Steve into her embrace, tenderly wiping the coffee from his face. When she looked at me, her eyes were icy cold, yet she dared not utter a single word to me, especially with outsiders present. I watched her, a mocking smile on my face. Just then, several students, who had been following her, began chattering. They were clearly Evelyn’s students, appearing to have just come from a meeting, notebooks still in hand. “Is this the legendary good-for-nothing husband of Professor Lee? Tsk tsk tsk, no wonder Professor Lee doesn’t want to go home!” “Not only does he live off Professor Lee, he’s paranoid every day. He actually suspects Steve, her most brilliant student!” “Exactly! Steve said he’s being forced to leave the country because of him, and he still came here to humiliate him!” With every word they spoke, Steve’s eyes grew redder. Evelyn’s face grew paler. I raised an eyebrow. The next second, I moved with unexpected speed, walked up to Steve, and punched him hard in the face, then smiled at the students. “See? If I really wanted to hit him, I wouldn’t do something so trivial.” Steve clutched his face, stumbling backward into Evelyn’s arms, his hatred barely suppressed in his eyes. Evelyn finally lost her temper, shouting, “Enough! Ethan Pierson, don’t push it too far!” Me, pushing it too far? Oh, there was much more to come! Before I could retort, one of the girls who had spoken up for Steve shoved me hard. “What else do you want to do? If you touch him again, I’m calling the police!” I lost my balance for a moment, falling to the ground, my head hitting the corner of the table with a sickening thud. The world spun. The girl panicked, quickly telling Evelyn she hadn’t meant to. But Evelyn merely gave me a deep, unreadable look. In the end, she said nothing, and left with her students. I clutched my throbbing head, struggling to my feet. I didn’t watch Evelyn and Steve, supporting each other, walk away. Instead, my gaze fixed on a hidden spot on the ceiling.

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My mother, she always favored my sister. All her life. Yet, on her deathbed, she left the only house to me. My sister, the indulged one, only received a worn-out jewelry box. Just as a wave of emotion swelled in me, a pop-up appeared: 【Actually, their mother owed a huge debt. Giving the house to the elder sister was a way to pass on all the debts to her. The sister was eventually forced to jump off a building by the creditors. So tragic.】 【Meanwhile, the younger sister, with the photo hidden in the jewelry box, successfully married the son of a billionaire and lived a life of luxury.】 【Too bad the younger sister started cursing loudly right after hearing the will, causing their mother to die of anger before she could reveal the truth to her.】 I was stunned. That night, I rummaged through a forgotten corner and found the jewelry box my sister had discarded. It led me straight to the billionaire’s mansion. … The moment he saw me, the billionaire froze. I handed him the jewelry box. His hand trembled slightly as he took it, retrieving a photo from a hidden compartment. It was a faded picture of two people, their faces blurred beyond recognition, but he stared at it in silence for a long time. “Where is she?” “My mother passed away.” I lowered my gaze. “She gave me this before she died.” He sighed. “When we parted ways back then, I made her a promise.” “If her daughter ever came to me with this, I would have my son marry her.” He called for his assistant. “Bring Aiden back.” My eyes widened. The comments were actually true. The billionaire was really going to call his son back to marry me. Aiden stormed in, still in his black racing suit, a look of impatience etched on his face. The billionaire pointed at me. “I called you back to discuss your marriage.” Only then did Aiden’s gaze land on me. He scoffed, his disdain clear. “Dad, who did you pick up from some slum? Another woman trying to climb the social ladder with just a pretty face?” “Shut up.” The billionaire glared at him. “You’re always playing those death-defying games. Who knows when you’ll end up dead somewhere. Get married, leave an heir, then you can die however you please.” “No marriage, and all your cards will be frozen, and your racing team blacklisted, starting now.” The billionaire stood up, his stance firm. “Choose.” Father and son locked eyes. Realizing his father was serious this time, Aiden gritted his teeth, then turned to me. “Fine, it’s just a marriage, isn’t it?” The registration took only half an hour. Stepping out of the registry office, I was still dazed, everything feeling like a dream. Aiden snatched my phone. When he returned it, ten million dollars had been added to my account. He warned me, “I’m going racing. You go back on your own. Take the money and keep quiet. Don’t even think about running to my dad.” I opened my mouth to speak. “Actually…” He frowned impatiently. “I knew it. You women are all so greedy. I’ve transferred another ten million. Don’t pester me, and don’t expect me to fall in love with you.” I started to say, “Actually, I don’t need…” My phone chimed again. A third ten million landed in my account. I immediately shut up. “Understood, young master. Have a wonderful time.” After Aiden left, I hailed a cab and went home. The moment I opened the door, someone roughly grabbed my hair, dragging me to the floor. The man, who had done the pulling, blew a smoke ring in my face. “So, you’re the one who forged the will and stole Lily’s house?” My sister, Lily, leaned against him, her eyes red from crying. “Sis, my boyfriend had it appraised. The will is fake. Even if you’re short on cash, you can’t go against Mom’s last wishes.” “If you sign the transfer agreement now and give the house back to me, I won’t call the police.” I slowly got up, my knee throbbing with pain. “Alright, I’ll sign. But there must be a lawyer present to certify that Mom’s house is inherited by you.” Lily’s rich-kid boyfriend made a call, and soon a lawyer arrived with a contract. Seeing me sign my name, Lily snatched the agreement, checked it, and then a smirk played on her lips. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just listen from the start?” She leaned in close, lowering her voice. “It’s just a crummy house. My boyfriend’s family has plenty, but I just can’t stand to see you happy, you know? You deserve to be a pauper your whole life, a stepping stone for me.” I was trembling with anger. The comments were also furious on my behalf: 【How can this sister be like this? When she made mistakes as a child, their mother only hit the older sister. When the older sister grew up, all the money she earned was taken by their mother and spent on the younger sister. I feel like the older sister isn’t even her biological child.】 【At first, seeing the older sister go to the billionaire with the photo, I thought she was stealing her sister’s life. Now, it seems the younger sister deserves whatever she gets.】 Tears welled in my eyes as I read those words. Just then, my phone rang. It was Aiden. “Didn’t I tell you to go home? Where are you? The butler didn’t see you, and the old man called me again.” I paused. “I went back to my old home.” He clicked his tongue on the other end. “Why are you running around? You have half an hour. Get back to the mansion, fast. The housekeeper made a big dinner, and if you’re not there, he’ll ask me again. It’s annoying as hell.” He hung up, clearly irritated. Immediately, another call came in. “Good evening, Madam. I’m the Hayes family’s driver. Where are you now? I’ll come pick you up and take you home.” I gripped my phone, a strange tremor in my heart. Turns out, I wasn’t utterly alone after all. I gave him the address and went inside to pack my things. Lily leaned against the doorframe, scrutinizing me. “So that’s why you were so cooperative. You found a man to take you in.” “Is it some old man who’s keeping you? Or did you find another broke guy and you’re moving into a rented room with him?” I ignored her, picking up my suitcase. “Excuse me.” “What’s the rush?” She blocked my way. “Call your boyfriend up. Let me see what kind of man would even look at someone like you.” The Hayes family car certainly wasn’t cheap. If Lily saw it… I suddenly smiled. “You’re so interested in my boyfriend. Are you trying to seduce him?” “Then again, you’ve been used to stealing my things since childhood.” Lily froze, then burst out laughing. “Are you crazy? Someone like you, what kind of good catch could you find? Old, ugly, poor — I wouldn’t take him if he was free.” “Willow, I think you’re just embarrassed to show him off.” I pushed her aside and left without looking back. I moved into the Hayes family mansion. The butler had already prepared silk pajamas, jewelry, and a full set of imported skincare products. After eating well and sleeping soundly, my skin even smoothed out a bit. Goodbye to those days of working until three in the morning, saving money by eating instant noodles, being yelled at by clients without daring to talk back, and having my credit stolen by my boss while still having to say thank you. Goodbye, miserable life. Aiden didn’t come home for three days straight. But that didn’t stop him from becoming a figure worthy of respect in my mind, like a sugar daddy. On the third night, my phone rang. “Can you drive? Come pick me up.” It was Aiden’s voice; the background noise was loud. As I walked into the private room in a long dress, several pairs of eyes swung towards me, filled with scrutiny, mockery, and ill intent. Aiden sat in the center, swirling a drink in his hand. “Aiden, is this the one your dad forced on you?” A guy grinned, sizing me up. “She’s pretty obedient, came right when you called.” Aiden looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “It’s all an act. I’ve seen plenty of women like this—innocent on the surface, but secretly plotting something.” I pretended not to hear him, walking to his side. “Time to go home?” “What’s the rush?” He leaned back. “Sit there and wait. We’ll leave when I’ve had my fill.” I walked to a corner sofa and sat down. I ordered an orange juice and sipped it slowly. The lights in the room flashed erratically, and the music pounded. Aiden kept glancing my way while talking to others—once, twice, thrice. I remained quiet and demure, my eyelashes casting shadows on my face, looking like someone anyone could bully. 【LOL, Aiden was suddenly stuck with a wife. The more he thought about it over the past couple of days, the angrier he got, so he decided to call her out to humiliate her.】 【His ‘humiliation’ wouldn’t be just ignoring Willow, would it? Willow used to work twenty hours of overtime to pay for her mother’s medical bills, and she wouldn’t even flinch when her boss threw documents in her face. Sitting on a sofa and spacing out must be a reward for her.】 【Meanwhile, Aiden saw his friends secretly looking at Willow and his face turned dark with anger.】 It wasn’t until a guy came over to talk to me that Aiden suddenly put down his glass, stood up, and walked over. “Let’s go.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out. In the car, I even thoughtfully buckled his seatbelt for him. He turned to me, frowning. “Don’t you have any temper?” “I do,” I said. “But I don’t have one for you.” Of course, I had no temper for Aiden. He was just a stranger to me. And if a stranger inexplicably transferred thirty million dollars to me, even if they slapped me, I’d still ask them if their hand hurt. Aiden suddenly fell silent. I wondered if it was just my imagination, but his ears seemed a little red. It was two in the morning when we got home. When I came out after my shower, Aiden was standing in the hallway, looking like he was heading to the kitchen. He paused when he saw me. I was only wrapped in a bath towel, my hair still dripping. Aiden’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He averted his gaze, then shifted it back. “You…” He cleared his throat. “Wear proper clothes when you come out from now on.” “This is my room’s doorway.” “This is my house.” He frowned. “Don’t try to seduce me. I’m not interested in you.” “And don’t think acting innocent will make me soft. Just wait, I’ll soon expose your true colors.” I: “?”

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Everyone knew my billionaire husband was two decades older. He married me to manage his kids. Learning he’d rarely be home, give me ten million monthly, and that I wouldn’t need children, I agreed instantly. My stepson Lucas skipped school for games. I bought his arcade and stayed up, winning all his allowance. My stepdaughter Maya adored a pop star. I paid her idol to give me a foot massage at our mansion, crushing her illusions. Just as we grew close, warnings flashed like comments on my life: “The real heroine, the long-lost daughter, is returning.” “The kids will turn on the stepmom for their real mother.” “Stepmom ends up on the streets, fighting dogs for scraps.” So someone wants to steal my inheritance? Let’s see if my ‘managed’ husband and these kids side with her. I tossed my Hermès scarf into the fireplace, beckoning Lucas and Maya. “Minions, find all your dad’s hidden cash. Tonight, we’re blowing every cent at the club—nothing left for that gold digger.” … My command, and the two figures previously slumped on the sofa, sprang to attention like startled springs. Lucas’s eyes gleamed like a hungry wolf. “Are you talking about the black card the old man hid in the ceiling compartment of his study?” Maya, without a word, tossed her nail polish aside. “And the gold bars he stashed in his old shoes in the walk-in closet!” I nodded, pleased. They truly were his children; they knew his hiding spots better than I did. “Take it all. Tonight’s on Lucas, my treat for you all!” The comments section exploded. “Is this stepmom insane? She’s about to be kicked out with nothing and she’s still pulling stunts?” “The true heroine is at the doorstep, she’s got a DNA test! This stepmom is just having her last hurrah.” “Wait till Mr. Mulvey comes back and sees the house ransacked. He’ll throw this evil woman out for sure!” I smirked, looking at the half-burnt Hermès scarf I’d just rescued from the fire. If I was going to be the wicked stepmother, I might as well act the part. Ten minutes later, Lucas clutched the black card, Maya hugged the gold bars, both beaming with an unprecedented, filial glow. “Mom, which club are we going to? I want the most expensive male escorts!” Maya looked at me eagerly. “The most exclusive one in all of New York. Tonight, we drink till we drop, and I’ll send your… cheap dad our location.” I waved my hand grandly, leading my two “unfilial children” out. No sooner had we left than a taxi pulled up to the villa. A woman in a white dress, tears streaming down her face like pearly rain, stepped out. It was none other than the legendary true heroine, Emily Sterling. She looked at the empty villa, the heartfelt reunion speech she’d prepared stuck in her throat. The comments section was full of question marks. “Where are they? Didn’t they say everyone was waiting to welcome the heroine?” “Where’s the family?” Meanwhile, my two stepchildren and I were in the most luxurious private room in New York. The table was laden with expensive imported liquor, and two rows of male escorts, more handsome than any idol trainee, stood before us. Lucas was busy popping champagne, Maya was busy picking out the hottest guys. I slumped on the sofa, looking at the dozens of missed calls from Julian Mulvey on my phone, then promptly turned it off. Want me to leave with nothing? Dream on. Emily did have some tricks up her sleeve. She actually managed to find the club. The moment the private room door swung open, I was holding a microphone, belting out a duet of “The Big Sedan Chair” with Lucas. Maya was directing three male escorts to peel grapes for her. Emily stood in the doorway, half her white dress soaked from the rain outside, looking like a pitiful white flower caught in a storm. It was a stark contrast to our wild, chaotic scene. The comments section went into a frenzy. “Waaah, the heroine is so pitiful, her real children are right there but they don’t recognize her.” “These two kids have been corrupted by the stepmom. Coming to a place like this at such a young age. Of course, she wouldn’t care since they’re not her own.” “Look, the heroine is crying! The kids must have a psychic connection!” Emily’s eyes immediately reddened, tears flowing on cue. “Lucas, Maya… I’m your mother.” Her cry of “mother” was filled with such sorrow it would break anyone’s heart. The music screeched to a halt. Lucas still held the champagne bottle, staring blankly at the woman in the doorway. Maya still had half a grape in her mouth. I raised an eyebrow, said nothing, just took a bite of watermelon. Seeing no one respond, Emily gritted her teeth and rushed forward, trying to hug Lucas. “My child, Mommy missed you so much. Mommy had her reasons back then…” “Stop!” Lucas deftly dodged, retreating behind me. “Lady, who are you? You reek of poverty. Don’t get your stench on my limited-edition hoodie.” Emily froze, staring at her biological son in disbelief. “I’m your real mother! Don’t you remember? When you were little, you loved Mommy’s braised pork.” “I don’t like braised pork. Dad does.” Lucas cut her off mercilessly, rolling his eyes. “And now I only eat lobster and king crab. Can you afford to buy them for me?” Emily’s face paled, and she instinctively clutched the hem of her dress. She had just returned to the country; where would she get the money for such things? The comments section was indignant. “How can this child be so materialistic! The stepmom must have ruined him!” “Don’t cry, heroine, just throw the DNA test results at them and make them face reality!” Emily’s hand trembled as she pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her bag. “This is a DNA test. You really are my children…” Maya finally swallowed her grape, slowly standing up. She walked up to Emily, looked her up and down, then covered her nose in disgust. “So what if you’re my real mom? Can you buy me Hermès? Can you get my idol to give me a foot massage?” “If you can’t, then why are you back? To fight us for the inheritance?” Emily was completely bewildered. This wasn’t how the script was supposed to go! Where was the mother-child bond, the tearful reunion? Julian Mulvey finally arrived. When he pushed open the door, he was met with a bizarre scene. His ex-wife, Emily, was kneeling on the floor, weeping hysterically. His current wife, me, was casually watching the drama unfold, legs crossed. And his two children were hiding behind me, staring at their biological mother as if she were insane. “What in God’s name is going on here?!” Julian thundered, his face dark. Emily seemed to see a savior, scrambling to his feet and throwing herself at Julian’s feet. “Julian, you’re finally here. I don’t blame the children for not recognizing me; it’s my fault for being away for so long.” “But Delia… how could she bring the children to a place like this? It will ruin them!” A classic move: retreating to adMulvey, and throwing me under the bus in the process. Julian glanced at the table full of liquor bottles, then at the bewildered male escorts, a vein throbbing in his temple. He turned to me, his gaze sharp. “Delia Hayes, is this how you look after the children?” I leisurely wiped my hands. “What? Mr. Mulvey doesn’t like it? This is happiness bought with your money, for your children.” “Besides, I didn’t bring them here to do anything illegal. Just listen to music, have a few drinks, and, by the way…” I pointed to the male escorts. “Let your daughter experience the diversity of men early, so she doesn’t get fooled by scumbags like you later on.” Julian choked on his anger. The comments section, however, suddenly became excited. “Although… the stepmom makes a really good point.” “This stepmom has some guts, her mouth is blessed.” “Mr. Mulvey, quickly help the heroine up! Rekindle the old flame! Patch things up!” Julian did indeed help Emily up. But the look in his eyes wasn’t the deep affection the comments hoped for; it was more like… embarrassment? “Since you’re only here once in a blue moon, let’s go home and talk.” Julian sighed, seemingly compromising. A flicker of triumph crossed Emily’s eyes, and she gave me a provocative look. I shrugged indifferently. Go home then. That house was no longer the one she remembered anyway. Back at the villa, Emily immediately slipped into her role. Ignoring her wet clothes, she headed straight to the kitchen to make supper for the children. “Lucas, Maya, Mommy’s making noodles for you. You used to love Mommy’s homemade noodles.” Lucas and Maya exchanged glances, horror in both their eyes. “I’m not eating! I’m ordering takeout! I want barbecue!” Lucas shouted. “I want barbecue too! Extra spicy!” Maya chimed in. Just as Emily brought out two bowls of bland, clear noodle soup, the delivery driver rang the doorbell. A mountain of lamb skewers, two platters of spicy crawfish, and ice-cold cola. The aroma instantly overpowered the two bowls of noodles. Emily’s hands trembled as she held the bowls. “These… these are junk food. They’re not good for your health.” I picked up a lamb skewer, took a bite, oil glistening on my lips. “Ms. Sterling, the most important thing in life is to be happy.” “Even dogs wouldn’t eat your noodles.” Emily moved into the guest room. But she clearly didn’t see herself as a guest. The very next morning, she began a grand clean-up of the villa. Under the guise of “decluttering” and giving the children a fresh living environment. By the time the kids and I woke up late in the morning, the house had been transformed. Lucas’s limited-edition action figures had been thrown into the trash. Maya’s pop star posters were ripped down and crumpled into a ball. Even the priceless bottle of red wine I kept in the living room had been poured down the drain, replaced with plain boiled water. “Noooo! My action figures! They were global limited editions! You can’t buy them even with money!” Lucas let out a pained shriek. Maya burst into tears. “My bias! My posters! Emily, are you insane?!” Emily, apron-clad, stood in the center of the living room, looking innocent. “Lucas, Maya, those toys take up too much space and look childish. Mommy helped you put them away.” “And those posters, that male celebrity doesn’t look decent. Mommy is doing this for your own good…” The comments section erupted in cheers. “Heroine doing great! She needs to help the kids get rid of those bad habits!” “This is a real mom, worrying herself sick for her children’s future.” “The stepmom only indulges, the real mom disciplines. The kids will realize the heroine’s good intentions eventually.” I leaned against the second-floor railing, watching the chaos unfold downstairs, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Emily, did you forget? This house is in my name now.” “Throwing away my things in my house? Who gave you the audacity?” Emily looked up at me, her eyes red. “Delia, I know you don’t like me, but the children are innocent. You can’t just indulge them in endless fun and games to curry favor.” “I’m trying to save them!” What a noble declaration. Julian Mulvey came downstairs at that moment, and seeing the scene, his brows furrowed. Emily immediately rushed over to complain. “Julian, look how Delia has spoiled the children! They’re losing their ambition, chasing frivolous things. How will they ever inherit the family business?” Julian glanced at the action figures in the trash, which he had gone through a lot of trouble to buy for his son’s birthday. He then looked at his daughter, whose makeup was ruined from crying. Finally, his gaze settled on Emily, who stood with a righteous expression. The comments section went into full alert. “Here it comes! Mr. Mulvey is about to blow up!” “Mr. Mulvey will definitely side with the heroine, it’s for the kids’ good after all.” “The stepmom is in for it now. She’s definitely getting kicked out!” Everyone thought Julian would reprimand me, and even Emily was prepared to be embraced and comforted. However, Julian took a deep breath and slowly spoke: “Emily, I bought that action figure.” “It cost eight hundred thousand dollars.” Emily’s expression froze.

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In my last life, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, a trust fund brat, pretended to be a wealthy heir and caused trouble. After I exposed him, he angrily drove his car straight into me. As I lay dying, my girlfriend’s sister knelt and begged her to save my life, but she remained indifferent. “No way. Vance is too high-status to dirty his hands for this insignificant nobody. Don’t think that just because you’re dating me, you can get arrogant. Know your place!” My girlfriend’s sister knelt for three days and three nights, eventually dragged away by the brat, abused, humiliated, and left for dead. Until my heart stopped, my girlfriend was still protecting the brat, covering up his crimes, refusing to believe he had hit someone with his car, and then assaulted her sister. Reborn, I didn’t choose to humbly beg my girlfriend to even look at me. Instead, I first called my eldest brother. “Bro, some jerk is impersonating me and causing trouble. Get someone to handle it.” “Also, the engagement with the Scott family, I want to switch. From Clara Scott to her sister, Elaine.” Over the years, I’d poured huge resources into the Scott family, only to raise a backstabbing ingrate. I wanted to see how Clara and her childhood friend would act so arrogant without me! … “Robert Miller! You made me look like a fool in front of so many people tonight! I’ll make you regret it! You were so arrogant exposing me then, did you ever think you’d face this day?” “You’re just a poor kid. Clara doesn’t even care about you. Even if I flatten you into pulp out here in the middle of nowhere tonight, she’ll still protect me, believe it or not!” Vance Scott’s familiar words reached my ears. Before I could even react, I felt blinding headlights drawing closer, the engine roaring as it ran over me. A searing pain shot through my body. That’s when I realized I had been reborn. I had been reborn to the moment Vance Scott brutally ran me over. My shattered phone beside me had, at some point, dialed my girlfriend Clara’s number. Her cold voice, filled with disdain, came through the receiver. “Robert Miller, stop calling me. I know you’re just jealous of my relationship with Vance, trying to sow discord.” She continued. “Vance wouldn’t hit you with his car. That car cost a fortune; it’s not worth totaling it just to hit you. No matter what you say this time, I won’t believe you!” She fell silent after that, seemingly waiting for my reaction. But unlike in my last life, I didn’t try to explain or plead with her, trying to make her believe Vance’s true colors. Instead, after seeing Vance drive away, I painstakingly reached out and hung up. Using the last bit of my phone’s battery, I made another call. Once it connected, I endured the pain wracking my body and said, “Bro, help me.” My ears were ringing, and I couldn’t clearly hear the reply, but I was certain my eldest brother would come. I was my brother’s favorite, and the future second-in-command of the Miller family. The family’s protection of me was strict. These years of living under an assumed name to date Clara was the limit of their tolerance. If they found out someone dared to harm me, they would torment that person to an inch of their life, repaying it a thousandfold. I was dragging my body towards the edge of the road when I saw Vance suddenly return in his car. The window lowered, and his shadowy eyes fixed on me. “Clara said you weren’t dead. She was right.” My heart sank. If he hit me again, I truly wouldn’t survive. Just as he stomped on the accelerator, on the brink of despair, a red car rushed out from another direction, slamming into Vance’s Maybach. A woman got out of the car and ran towards me, anxiously calling out, “Robert Miller, are you alright?!” It was Clara’s sister, Elaine Scott. Remembering how she had desperately pleaded for someone to save me in my last life, and how she was humiliated and left for dead by Vance at my bedside, my heart was filled with a mix of emotions, but mostly guilt and gratitude. I vowed to protect her this lifetime, never letting her be harmed again. Without time to wonder why she was here, I pushed her away. “Don’t mind me! Go!” But it was too late. Vance suddenly grabbed Elaine by the hair from behind, yanking her over. Before she could even speak, Vance kicked her directly. “You damn bitch! Where did you come from?” He roared. “Do you know who I am, young master? You dare to stop me from teaching this insignificant nobody a lesson? Do you have a death wish?!” Elaine was kicked in the stomach, immediately breaking out in cold sweat from the pain. But she gritted her teeth and bit his hand. Vance hissed in pain, then casually picked up a rock and mercilessly smashed it onto her. Seeing Elaine’s head gushing blood, my heart ached. I yelled, “She’s Clara Scott’s sister! Aren’t you afraid Clara will come after you for hurting her?” Vance froze, but then, seeing her face, he let out a wicked laugh. He slapped her to the ground and began to unbuckle his belt. “What if she’s Clara Scott’s sister? It’s her blessing that I’ve taken an interest in her.” He continued. “Besides, I’m the second young master of the Miller family. The Scott family owes everything to me. If I insist that this young woman was harmed by you, do you think Clara will believe you or me? If she kills you, it has nothing to do with me!” My heart burned with anxiety, but my legs were crushed, unable to move. I could only reveal my true identity. “Enough! I am the true Miller heir! She is under my protection. If you dare to harm her, I will use all of the Miller family’s connections to make your life a living hell!” Vance burst into laughter. “You tell a good lie. But the eldest Miller brother has already personally acknowledged me as his brother! How dare you impersonate me here?” My heart skipped a beat. I knew nothing about this. My parents were devoted to each other, with no other illegitimate children. My eldest brother had also personally vowed to only recognize me as his biological brother in this lifetime. Where did this guy come from? Before I could fully comprehend, Vance, his face sinister, leaned in close to me, raising his foot to kick me. Outside the desolate road was a river; if I rolled in, I would surely die. Just as I precariously propped myself up, trying to save myself, Elaine Scott lunged at him from behind, tightly hugging Vance’s leg. “Robert, run! I’ll hold him off!” She bit down hard on Vance, who was now utterly enraged and about to strike us both when the sound of a helicopter cut through the sky. The Miller family had arrived! The Miller family’s secretary rushed down from the helicopter, rescuing me and Elaine. Vance was knocked unconscious and dragged away. Elaine, however, had fainted from shock. I urgently told them to take her to the hospital for treatment, while I only had my fractured limbs roughly stabilized. I sat outside the emergency room for a long time, until Elaine was safely taken to a private room, and only then did my racing heart calm down. I immediately called my eldest brother to reassure him. Hearing I was injured, my brother slammed his fist on the table in a furious outburst. “Who hurt you? If I wasn’t tied up, I would have flown there with my secretary and had him broken limb by limb, making his life a living hell!” I didn’t want him to blow things out of proportion, so I just said, “Bro, the engagement with the Scott family that was set for next month, I want to change the person.” My brother was startled. “You’re not marrying Clara anymore? You’ve been devoted to her for three years; I thought you wouldn’t marry anyone else.” “Yes, I don’t want that woman anymore. I want Elaine Scott.” I added. “Also, all the resources I’ve invested in Clara Scott over these years, I want them all back!” I had treated Clara as the love of my life, but she treated me like a pathetic lapdog, letting her friends humiliate me. Both in my last life and this one, she fiercely protected that Vance Scott. I was utterly disgusted with her. My brother’s voice was low. “I understand. I’ll do as you say.” He continued. “I have to recall my secretary, but I’ll leave Miller family bodyguards to protect you. You focus on recovering in the hospital.” He paused. “Also, don’t think you can hide your injuries from me. I’ll find out who hurt you. If they touched even one of your fingers, I’ll chop off ten of theirs!” This time, before I could answer, the call ended. I had wanted to ask about Vance Scott, but it seemed I’d have to wait for next time. I turned to walk to Elaine’s room when I heard hurried footsteps in the corridor. I looked up just in time to see Clara Scott’s furious face. She raised her hand and delivered a resounding slap to my face, raging, “Robert Miller, have you lost your mind! You actually hired people to bully Vance! He’s the second young master of the Miller family. Haven’t you heard how protective his brother is? You’re not long for this world!” My face was turned sideways from the impact, but I smirked. “He’s a Miller? Then why is his last name Scott?” Clara said, “What do you know? He’s the Miller parents’ child born late in life, the family’s top priority for protection. What’s strange about having him live under an assumed name and keep a low profile for safety? He and I have been friends since childhood. I only just learned his identity. What about you, a country bumpkin with no background?” Just then, I saw Vance Scott, who had been locked in a warehouse and beaten black and blue by the secretary’s men, emerge, trailing behind the Miller family’s head bodyguard. Clara Scott looked at me with schadenfreude, believing I was done for. I was wondering why he had been released when the head bodyguard walked directly towards me. I thought he was going to shield me, but he suddenly grabbed the club from his waist and savagely swung it at me. “What kind of trash are you, daring to bully our young master? You must have a death wish! This is for the young master, a lesson for you!” I was hit, blood streaming down my forehead. My vision turned crimson, my head ringing, almost making me faint. But his eyes, looking at me, had a scarlet gleam, as if he was truly protecting the master behind him. I was instantly bewildered. “You’re crazy! Don’t you recognize me? I’m the second young master of the Miller family!” But the other party spat, his expression fierce. “I think you’re delusional! I’ve worked for the Miller family for almost ten years. I only know of Young Master Vance. What are you, daring to impersonate him!” Vance Scott then emerged from behind the bodyguard, staring coldly at me. I felt his gaze, like I was fish on a chopping block. He turned to Clara and said, “Clara, what do we do about this? Tonight, I just wanted to quietly have a few drinks with friends, but your boyfriend, in front of everyone, claimed I was impersonating the Miller heir.” He continued. “Our Miller family motto has always been discretion, so I tolerated him again and again, even asking someone to politely escort him into a luxury car and send him away.” He finished. “But he slandered me, claiming I ran him over! Ruining the Miller family’s reputation. How should we settle this score?” Everything he said distorted the facts, like something out of a fairy tale. But Clara’s face paled, and she immediately grabbed my collar, yanking me from my wheelchair. Then she kicked my knee, forcing me to kneel heavily on the ground. She ordered someone to press my head down, making me kowtow repeatedly. “Robert Miller, I never thought you’d be such a person! Apologize to Vance immediately! Keep kowtowing until he’s willing to forgive you!”

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The day before my wedding, I asked my best friend to try on her bridesmaid dress. She showed up wearing my wedding gown. The next morning, on my actual wedding day, my best friend and my fiancé emerged from the same hotel room, disheveled. The staff gasped in shock, and my parents were beside themselves with grief and outrage. My fiancé, guilt etched on his face, stepped forward to embrace me. I didn’t raise my voice or make a scene. Instead, I calmly and generously announced that I would hand over the entire wedding ceremony to them. My best friend preened, completely unaware. Just moments before, as my fiancé held me, the silver cross my grandmother had given me shattered. My grandmother had always said that when the cross broke, it meant it had deflected a calamity. A disaster of epic proportions. 1 “Delia, last night was an accident. I swear, I just… accidentally put on your wedding dress. And Aiden, well, he was so drunk he didn’t even notice…” My best friend, Clara Mackie, was saying all this, but the triumphant gleam in her eyes? Impossible to miss. Oh, I knew exactly what she was so proud of. Aiden Miller, from a prominent family, devastatingly handsome and charming. More than that, he’d always doted on his girlfriends. In the six months he’d pursued me, he showered me with gifts worth over a million dollars. We’d been together for half a year, and I’d finally agreed to marry him. And then… this. The scene before me was utterly ridiculous. Clara stood there, in my torn wedding gown, the marks on her exposed skin screaming volumes about last night’s events. Aiden, my fiancé, kept his head down, seemingly too ashamed to meet my gaze. My parents, livid, were yelling at Aiden, my father even kicking him in the shin, only to be held back by hotel staff. Aiden scrambled to his feet, walked over to me, and gave me a soft hug. “Delia, I’ve wronged you, I know. But what’s done is done. I… I hope you can grant us your blessing.” The audacity of that statement was staggering. I wasn’t stupid; I could see the subtle satisfaction in his eyes when he looked at Clara. She did have a better figure than me, and she was certainly more uninhibited. Aiden had hinted at it countless times during our courtship, but I always wanted to save that for after we were married. Everyone in the room braced themselves, expecting me to slap him or unleash a torrent of curses. Instead, I just smiled and nodded. “Alright.” Not only that, I added, “The venue’s already booked. You two can just get married today, right here.” Aiden visibly relaxed. “Delia, I knew you were a generous woman.” My parents looked like they were about to spontaneously combust, my father even reaching for a waiter’s broom, ready to wield it. “Delia Hayes! You’re just going to let these two get away with it? What about your parents’ dignity?” I gently steered my fuming parents away. Around the corridor’s bend, I pulled out the silver cross that had shattered into two perfect halves. “Mom, Dad, this is the cross Grandma left me.” The moment they saw the once-flawless silver cross now broken, their anger evaporated, replaced by a chilling dread. Mom pulled me quickly into an elevator. She eyed me with a searching look. “Did it… shatter just now?” Dad’s face, which had been beet-red, turned chalky white. His fingers trembled slightly. “No way?” I nodded. “It broke when Aiden hugged me.” My parents exchanged a glance, their brows furrowed in a tight knot. As soon as the elevator doors opened, Dad declared, “We’re moving. Now!” Passing by the wedding display outside the hotel, my parents kicked over Aiden’s life-sized cutout, then carefully picked up mine and carried it away. Mom immediately called the wedding planner, demanding that all photos and text related to me be removed, leaving no trace. Seeing my parents’ intense urgency, I was moved. I deleted all of Aiden’s contacts and photos from my phone. Our family fled the hotel in a panicked rush. That very night, our entire family packed up and moved out of the city. 2 Our extreme reaction stemmed from the cross my grandmother, Elara, had left me. Grandma Elara was renowned as the most powerful witch for miles around. From solving baffling mysteries to finding lost pets, she predicted everything. Some even whispered she wasn’t entirely human, but an animal spirit in disguise, for she had never once been wrong. Grandma Elara lived a full ninety-nine years. The day she passed was a clear, crisp winter morning. She sat in her rocking chair in the yard, soaking up the sun, stroked our old yellow dog twice, then called my name. “Little Delia!” I was only eight then. As I approached, Grandma took the cross she’d worn her entire life and fastened it around my neck. “Little Delia, keep this cross on, never take it off. If one day it shatters, it means it has shielded you from harm.” “You must immediately leave the person closest to you when it breaks.” “A shattered cross means a great calamity. A disaster of epic proportions.” I didn’t fully understand then, asking innocently, “Grandma? What kind of great calamity?” Grandma looked at me, her toothless mouth slowly uttering, “Willow Creek.” With just those two words, Grandma closed her eyes and lay back in her rocking chair, passing away peacefully. Afterward, Grandma Elara received a grand funeral. Not just our village, but respected figures from six neighboring villages attended. I told my parents everything Grandma had said about the cross. When I asked them about Willow Creek, they clammed up, immediately packed our belongings, and moved us to the city. Now, those long-buried memories resurfaced. The scandalous story of Aiden, Clara, and me spread like wildfire through our social circles. At first, everyone thought Clara, my best friend, was utterly despicable for what she did. But then they learned I hadn’t gotten angry; instead, I’d just handed over the groom and the wedding. Suddenly, people started calling me a spineless coward, saying I had no backbone even when my best friend and fiancé ran off together. The rumors swirled endlessly. But I didn’t care. Let them talk. Clara successfully hijacked the wedding, becoming the bride, Aiden’s lawful wife. She seemed incredibly pleased with herself. Her social media was a constant stream of updates, from the wedding day until now. Sparkly, pigeon-egg-sized diamond rings, the two-million-dollar cash gift from Aiden’s parents, Aiden kneeling to put on her crystal slippers, closet after closet of luxury goods… “Thanks to Delia, and thanks to my brave self for pursuing love.” “This time, I want both money and love.” “Life is short, seize the day.” Aiden, to his credit, reciprocated, filling his own feed with endless photos of their affection. Many mutual friends liked her posts, some even sucking up in the comments, “Looks like some people just aren’t destined for good fortune, huh?” Clara seemed to revel in the snide remarks about me, replying with a grinning emoji. I scrolled through her flaunting posts and chuckled. She had no idea what was coming for her, did she? Not only that, Clara went public online, boasting about her “glorious” wedding snatch, garnering significant attention. Her account gained half a million followers overnight. The comments were all praises: “Queen,” “The brave ones get to enjoy the world first,” “The unloved one is the real third party.” The news of my parents and me moving overnight also reached the netizens. The people who’d called me a coward now laughed even harder, saying my parents and I were two peas in a pod—weak and timid. I didn’t mind them talking about me, but seeing the comments mocking my parents, I couldn’t help but retort. I commented on Clara’s post: “You can criticize me, but what’s with dragging my parents into this? Do none of you have parents? Please, netizens, watch your words, and Ms. Mackie, please stop using me for clout.” 3 The moment I posted the comment, I immediately turned off my DMs. As expected, my comment was instantly flooded with attacks. Clara didn’t reply directly, but she liked all the comments slandering me. I shook my head at the black-and-white thinking. Well, what goes around, comes around. We didn’t just move; our new home was half a state away from our original city. It was a secluded area with a smaller population than other places. Mom had suggested a nearby city, but Dad, for reasons unknown, insisted on a location hundreds of miles away. Mom couldn’t argue, so we complied. Although I believed Grandma’s words, I was still curious about my parents’ reaction. That evening, at dinner, I hesitantly asked them, “Mom, Dad, what exactly did Grandma mean by a ‘disaster of epic proportions’?” My parents, who had been jovial moments before, stiffened. Mom put a piece of braised pork onto Dad’s plate. “Delia’s grown up now, honey. Maybe we can tell her?” Dad hesitated, then finally nodded. “Go ahead.” My curiosity intensified. “A disaster of epic proportions? Does it mean a natural calamity?” “Willow Creek, you remember it?” Mom asked, her expression serious. I nodded. “Yes, Grandma mentioned it to me.” Mom’s face was odd. “Willow Creek, hundreds of people, just ten miles from our village. Overnight, the entire village… hanged themselves. Wiped out.” Silence descended on the dinner table, the warm atmosphere instantly freezing. “H-hanged themselves?” I was utterly shocked. I’d imagined Grandma’s “disaster of epic proportions” to be floods, earthquakes, natural disasters. I never expected something so eerie. I pressed on. “Why?!” Mom and Dad looked uncomfortable, speaking in unison. “Ghosts.” The meal finished, but the shock in my heart lingered. No wonder Grandma, on her deathbed, gave me that life-saving cross. That cross had shielded me from such a terrible fate. It seemed Grandma hadn’t just predicted for a lifetime, but had also foreseen my future. Thinking about the Willow Creek incident, a shiver still ran down my spine. Hundreds of people hanging themselves overnight was indeed a horrific tragedy. According to my parents, the disaster about to befall Aiden must be even more terrifying. But why hadn’t the cross shattered before, only after Aiden and Clara’s liaison? Had Grandma even accounted for this unexpected turn? Just as I was marveling at Grandma’s foresight, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I answered. A gentle, warm voice spoke, “Little Delia, are you alright?” It was Aiden! I immediately hung up and blocked the number. I wanted nothing to do with him anymore. After that night, I stopped answering any unknown calls. I valued my life! Clara continued to flaunt her wealthy wife status online. Luxury cars, designer watches, gold and jewels flowed into her bedroom like a river. Perhaps growing bored, she started looking for trouble with me again. 4 Late at night, Clara, dressed in an expensive fur coat and sitting on a plush sofa, went live. Netizens flocked to her stream, praising her beauty. Clara smiled and nodded. “I’m bored tonight, so I thought I’d do a live stream and chat with everyone.” After casually showcasing a few designer handbags, a commenter prompted her, and she brought up my name again. “Her? She probably just wasn’t born with a rich destiny, you know? Wouldn’t even eat the food spoon-fed to her, hehe.” “Best friend? She used to be… But did she really see me as a best friend? She didn’t even tell me she knew Aiden until they were together. Afraid I’d steal her man, I guess? Classic female rivalry, pfft.” “Where is she now? Her family probably got scared to death. They fled overnight on the day Aiden and I got married, probably terrified I’d become a rich wife and seek revenge.” … Watching this strange woman on screen, I couldn’t help but wonder, how could I have been so blind before? Clara was still spreading rumors about me, but observant viewers in the live stream noticed something unsettling. “Clara, did your wardrobe behind you just move?” “I thought I was the only one who saw it. Feels like there’s something inside?” “Yeah, streamer, go check it out. Maybe it’s a puppy?” Clara didn’t see these comments at first. Until the chat was flooded with warnings for her to be careful of what was behind her. I’d seen it too. The wardrobe behind Clara was slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of what looked like a faint eye. The angle was bizarre, because if it was an eye, it was at the very bottom of the wardrobe. Clara scoffed, annoyed, and clutched her fur coat tighter. “You guys are always trying to scare me. There’s no one in the villa tonight, so don’t even try.” With that, as if to prove her bravery, she clicked across the floor on her high heels to the wardrobe. “See?!” She yanked the cabinet open. “CRASH—” An inverted figure in a black leather jacket tumbled out of the wardrobe, landing with a thud on the floor. His face was covered by a black mask, and expensive jewelry was scattered around him – he was clearly a burglar. But instead of fleeing, he cowered in a corner, trembling, his eyes unfocused, face pale and green. “Ghost… there’s a ghost… ghost… don’t kill me… don’t… don’t…” As he caught sight of Clara’s fair neck, he shrieked, falling to his knees and repeatedly bowing his head to her. “I beg you, don’t kill me, please don’t kill me, I didn’t mean it… spare me, spare me…” The man slammed his forehead against the floor, creating a large bloody patch, and only continued to hit it faster. Clara froze for a moment, then clutched her chest and ran, screaming. “Help! Thief! Help!” In the chaos, the phone broadcasting the live stream fell to the ground, blocking any further view. I looked at the terrified thief, both shocked and afraid. What had he seen to be so utterly petrified? Recalling what Mom said about Willow Creek, I had a terrible premonition. This might be the harbinger of that great disaster. There was definitely something unclean in the Miller villa.

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After my arch-rival stole my project, I found a witch doctor to make a voodoo doll in his likeness, planning to use it to vent my frustration. The moment I held it, a string of comments flashed across my vision. [Heh heh, our girl finally got Holden’s empathy doll! This time, she’s going to make him really feel it.] [You bet! Every prick our girl makes on that doll will be a thrill for Holden. He’ll probably run out of clean underwear tonight!] My hand, holding the doll, froze. Holden Urie and this doll are linked by empathy? Is the witch doctor playing such a high-stakes game? Doubtful, I decided to video call Holden. The moment the call connected, I accurately jabbed the little doll in a… specific spot. Immediately, a muffled groan came from the other end. Watching his face flush scarlet, I couldn’t help but exclaim. “The witch doctor truly didn’t lie! Holden, you’re done for!” 1. After Holden Urie snatched three projects from me, I decided it was time for revenge. I sought out a renowned witch doctor and commissioned a lifelike doll, a scaled-down replica of Holden. My plan was to fight fire with… ancient magic. Before I left, the witch doctor cautioned me: “A little mischief is harmless; too much can be damaging. Everything in excess will backfire. Remember that!” I waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, I won’t kill him.” As soon as I got into my car, I eagerly pulled out the replica doll. Before I could even do anything, a string of comments flashed across my vision. [Heh heh, our girl finally got Holden’s empathy doll! This time, she’s going to make him really feel it.] [You bet! Every prick our girl makes on that doll will be a thrill for Holden. He’ll probably run out of clean underwear tonight!] My hand, holding the doll, froze. Holden Urie and this doll are linked by empathy? Is the witch doctor playing such a high-stakes game? Doubtful, I decided to video call Holden. The moment the call connected, I accurately jabbed the little doll in a… specific spot. Immediately, a muffled groan came from the other end. Watching his face flush scarlet, I couldn’t help but exclaim—the comments were actually true! Holden Urie really was linked to this doll! Every time I pricked it, Holden would react. So if I kept pricking it, wouldn’t he be utterly defenseless? Clutching the doll as if it were a treasure, I grinned at the screen, at Holden whose cheeks were now burning. The witch doctor truly didn’t lie! Holden, you’re done for! Holden’s handsome brows furrowed slightly, his voice a little hoarse. “What are you smiling at?” “What I’m smiling at is none of your business. I’m asking you, are you giving me back the drone project?” That project was my blood, sweat, and tears for three months, meant to be a surprise for my boyfriend’s birthday. At the last minute, he snatched it again. It infuriated me. On the video call, he scoffed. “Give it back to you so you can keep trying to please that useless man?” I exploded. “You’re the useless one! He’s just had bad luck; he hasn’t met the right opportunity yet. I forbid you from talking about him like that!” You can insult me, but not my boyfriend. He’s the person who loves me most in the whole world. When I almost drowned while surfing, if he hadn’t risked his life to save me, I would have perished in the ocean right there and then. He even fell into a coma for three months because of it, almost never waking up. In my heart, he’s the second person after my parents who loves me most in the world. He sneered, “What if I don’t give it back?” “If you don’t, I… I’ll…” I picked up the needle, tracing it over the doll’s chest. I suddenly paused. If I pricked it now, would it be too obvious? What if he found out? I couldn’t outwit him. I put the doll down, not daring to act. “What will you do??” He provocatively raised an eyebrow at me. I gritted my teeth. “I’ll curse you to sleepless nights, a life worse than death…” A low chuckle came from the other end of the video. The smile on Holden Urie’s face spread. “I’m so scared!” [Tsk tsk tsk, look at our girl, still too kind. Her curse sounds like flirting; he’s totally enjoying it!] [Don’t be scared, girl! Prick him with that needle! Let him taste your methods!] [Exactly, exactly! Prick him until he’s begging for mercy, until he’s whimpering like a puppy!] I bit my lip, looking at the needle in my hand, but I chickened out. I didn’t dare. 2. After the call ended, I started furiously pricking the little doll, aiming all my attacks at one specific area. The comments section went wild. [Ahhh, Holden’s in the bathroom again!] [Oh no, I think his legs are getting weak; he can’t stand anymore!] [Girl, you need to take it easy! At this rate, Holden’s going to… uh, die from it!] My hand, furiously pricking the doll, instinctively stopped. Holden wouldn’t actually die from my game, would he? No, that wouldn’t do. I hadn’t gotten my project back yet; he couldn’t die. Besides, if people found out he died from something like this, it would be too embarrassing. I should spare him some dignity! I got home, but his call of surrender hadn’t come yet. I picked up the doll and meticulously gave him a full-body spa with the needle. [Oh, girl, do you have to be so elegant? Holden’s practically dying from pleasure!] [Is this punishment for him? This is clearly a reward!] [Girl, harder! Prick him!] My hand, holding the needle, slid from the doll’s chest, moving downwards. Finally, I plunged it in. Less than three seconds later, a video call came through. “Blair Urie, what are you doing?” Looking at him, drenched in sweat on the video call, I raised an eyebrow, satisfied. “Just relaxing! What’s wrong with you?” I asked, feigning innocence. He pressed his lips together, his face undeniably flushed. It seemed he’d exerted a lot of energy. He looked utterly ravaged, making even me swallow. “Did you do something?” “What could I do? Looking at you, could it be that heaven has taken notice, and my curse has come true?” I suppressed my excitement, secretly pricking the doll again. Holden gasped, sweat trickling down his forehead; he seemed to be in considerable discomfort. I guiltily looked away. A few seconds later, he seemed to resign himself. He sighed. “Withdraw your curse, and I’ll give you the project.” “Really?” “But I have a condition.” “What condition?” “You come to my place tomorrow. Say it to my face.” Could it be a trap? Probably not. After all, murder is illegal. “Okay, it’s a deal.” I told him I’d withdraw the curse to his face, secretly retracting the needle. Only then did he hang up. Afterward, I excitedly hugged the doll and spun around several times. Finally, I could give my boyfriend some good news. 3. That night, for some reason, I dreamed of Holden. He held me, gently caressing my lips, which were red from his kisses. “Don’t love your boyfriend anymore. Love me, okay?” I ran my hand over his abs, shaking my head. “No.” “Why?” he sounded a little disappointed. “Because he loves me very much. Without me, he’d die.” He was silent for a long time. His deep eyes held a lingering sadness as he looked at me. “He won’t.” “He will…” I got up, wrapped my arms around his neck, and leaned in close. “You don’t understand. For me, he’d even risk his life. He can’t live without me.” His profound eyes held a deeper sense of melancholy. He said nothing more, only kissed me, working his way over me. When I woke up. “Ugh, what a nightmare!” Of all people to dream about, Holden! And to spend a night of passion with him in a dream. The worst part was, I was still a little too fond of his abs. So despicable! Guilt made me want to slap myself. I raised my hand, then lowered it. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. “Alright, alright, never again.” I tried to rationalize. To get the project contract quickly, I skipped breakfast and headed straight to Holden’s villa. As I got out of the car, a bright yellow figure emerged from the villa. As I got closer, I realized it was the witch doctor. “Master, you… what are you doing here?” I felt a little flustered. The witch doctor held his ritual implement. “Amitabha, benefactress, we meet again.” I was in such a hurry that I didn’t even bother with formalities. “Holden hasn’t found out, has he? He didn’t specifically ask you to come here to confront me, did he?” The witch doctor smiled kindly. “Benefactress, rest assured, he hasn’t.” Hearing this, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. “That’s good, that’s good!” Then, “But… why are you suddenly here?” “I came to see an old friend.” “I see, you scared me to death.” It was good that I hadn’t been exposed. Otherwise, if the project hadn’t been secured and Holden went back on his word, I’d be helpless. Looking at the witch doctor’s retreating back, I confidently rang the doorbell. [Hahaha, our girl is so adorably naive. Doesn’t she realize what’s wrong here?] [She probably got tangled up in it and didn’t even realize the ‘old friend’ the witch doctor mentioned was Holden.] [I wonder if our girl will be scared to death when she sees the gift the witch doctor gave Holden?] [Ahhh, I suddenly really want to see our girl losing her composure in front of Holden! Then it’ll be fireworks, the real juicy stuff!] My body stiffened. At that moment, the front door opened. Holden was playing with a female doll. “You… what are you holding?” 4. Forgetting all decorum, I rushed over and snatched the doll from his hand. I looked down at it. Huh, it didn’t quite look like me. To be precise, it didn’t quite look human. [What’s going on? How did the plot change?] [The doll in Holden’s hand isn’t a female version of our girl?] [So, no juicy scene then? Unhappy!] [No, don’t you think this is even more exciting?] [Exactly, exactly! I wonder how the plot will unfold next! Just thinking about it makes me excited!] My face dropped. Exciting my ass! If you don’t even know the plot, what good are you to me? Holden unhappily pulled the doll away. “What kind of obsession is this, barging into someone else’s house and stealing their things?” I guiltily took a step back, widening the distance between us. I was afraid he’d hit me. “I don’t have obsessions as strong as yours. A grown man still likes playing with dolls?” “Are you really that bothered by me playing with this?” He dangled the doll in his hand. I shivered involuntarily. I wasn’t linked to this thing by empathy, but just watching him touch it, my body felt a strange, inexplicable heat. Embarrassing, and uncomfortable. “Who cares what you play with? I’m just afraid of polluting my eyes.” “Really?” He smiled faintly, turning to sit on the sofa. “Alright, didn’t you say you’d return the project to me? Where’s the contract?” I’d heard they had already discussed the contract details, but it hadn’t been signed yet, so there was still a chance to salvage it. Holden’s gaze towards me turned cold. “So eager to please him?” “None of your damn business! One word: are you giving it to me or not?” “The drone project has already been signed. I can’t give it to you…” “You’re messing with me?” He glared at me. “I’ll give you a different project, but it can’t be signed under your name.” Not under my name? But it could be under Julian’s name! That suited me perfectly. “Okay!” I agreed in an instant. He handed me the contract. The moment I reached for it, his hand suddenly pulled back. Caught off guard, I tumbled into his arms, my hand instinctively reaching down to brace myself. A muffled groan came from above. [Oh my, Holden, you cunning boy! You acted so cool before, but now you’re really enjoying it, aren’t you!] [Haha, this is the content my VIP members should be watching! So juicy!] [Don’t let him off, girl! Get him!] To my surprise, Holden gritted his teeth and said, “Blair, hand, off!” Hand? My hand? Oh! I felt it! My face flushed instantly. I sprang up from him, snatching the contract that had fallen onto the sofa. “You pulled your hand back suddenly; it had nothing to do with me!” Holden, his face red, glared at me, then picked up a cushion and placed it on his lap, changing the subject. “There are a few parts of the contract that need revising. I can’t give it to you just yet…” “You dictate, I’ll revise!” How could I possibly give back a duck that was already in my hand? It was Julian’s birthday tomorrow; this contract had to be mine. He looked up, staring at me, his eyes filled with an indescribable sense of loss. It was exactly like in my dream last night. After a two-minute standoff, he conceded and stood up, his voice cold. “Suit yourself.” [Oh no, Holden’s going to shatter!] [He’s been secretly in love with her for so many years, but he just won’t speak up, won’t confess. He deserves this torment.] [Exactly, people who don’t speak up deserve to be tormented to death.] Holden is secretly in love with me? What a joke. From childhood, he never once let me win at anything, always obsessed with making me cry! He’d pinch my cheeks or my hands, saying I was like a doll and he wanted to attach me to his belt loop, taking me everywhere. He even called me mute when I had vocal cord issues, which infuriated me so much that I pulled down his pants right there, only to be chased and beaten by him again. I’d remember that forever. Faced with the blatant nonsense in the comments, I chose to ignore them. A bunch of gossipy girls who don’t even know the plot can’t be trusted.

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Weston Croft attracted chaos, chiefly through his ex-wife. In our five-year marriage, she had nine near-death episodes. First, kidney failure—she skipped dialysis to chase a pop star. I gave her a kidney, then nearly died from an anesthesia allergy. Later, she took up street racing and crashed, needing a massive transfusion; Weston drained me almost dry. Over those years, I deteriorated from healthy to a frail invalid. The ninth time, she bungee-jumped over a hundred times until her heart gave out. Weston knelt before me, trembling and in tears. “Lena,” he pleaded, “Iris saved my life. I must give her a healthy body!” He strapped me down and performed the surgery himself. Once the transplant was done, he rushed to her side, forgetting to stitch me up. Before leaving, he met my eyes. “This is hard, but you still have me. I’ll spend my life making it up to you.” Watching him go, I smiled bitterly. He didn’t know that in two minutes, I would bleed to death. A dead woman needs no apologies. I lay on the cold operating table, my eyes filled with a despair so vast it swallowed everything else. Blood poured from the gaping wound in my chest, and the heart monitor beside me flatlined into a single, piercing tone. But none of it was enough to make Weston turn back. He never once looked over his shoulder. He was in such a hurry he even lost a shoe. I tried to call out to him, but my throat was clogged with blood. I couldn’t make a sound. The pain was excruciating, a deep, bone-grinding agony with every movement. Yet, a fierce will to live pushed me to move, to roll off the table and onto the frigid floor. I clenched my teeth against the searing pain and began to crawl, inch by inch, toward the operating room door, leaving a gruesome trail of blood in my wake. Just as my fingers brushed against the door, it was slammed shut from the other side. Through the heavy steel, I heard Weston’s cold, detached voice. “Lock it. Don’t open it for any reason until I get back. Lena has a temper. If we let her out now, she’ll make a scene. Iris just had a heart transplant; she can’t handle any stress. You watch this door. Don’t let her out.” I collapsed against the door, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. He remembered that his precious Iris couldn’t handle stress. He forgot that I had just undergone open-heart surgery too, receiving her failing heart in return for my healthy one. I was far more fragile than she was. And my chest was still wide open. I wouldn’t be waiting for his return. I wouldn’t be making any more scenes. Because in a few moments, I would bleed to death, alone in this operating room. My vision began to blur. But I didn’t feel sad. Instead, a wave of relief washed over me. Compared to the torment of the past five years, death was a kindness. At least I wouldn’t have to be Iris’s spare parts anymore, her personal, walking blood bag. Five years. I had saved her nine times. When she skipped dialysis and her kidneys failed, Weston forced me to donate one of mine. When she crashed her car and was bleeding out, he drained my blood to save her. When she played with fire and got severely burned, he had my skin grafted from my back to repair hers. In five years of marriage, everything inside me that could be replaced, had been. Even my heart. He didn’t hesitate for a second to give it to Iris. My desperate sobs, my broken pleas—in his eyes, they were just childish tantrums. But now, it was all ending. In two minutes, I would be gone from this world. I would be just as he wanted—quiet, not crying, not screaming at him, asking him why he was so cruel. He wouldn’t have to bother with the annoyance of trying to placate me. After all, the dead don’t have emotions. When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in the air. Even in death, the scene before me was a dagger to the heart. Weston sat by Iris’s bedside, patiently feeding her a bowl of soup. He blew on each spoonful to cool it before bringing it to her lips, his attention so completely focused on her that he seemed to have forgotten everything else. Forgotten that his wife was lying in a cold operating room, cut open and bleeding, her life hanging by a thread. I drifted silently, watching the face I had loved for five years, now so utterly repulsive to me. After she finished the soup, Weston gently wiped her mouth with a napkin. He checked the monitors connected to her, and only when he was certain everything was stable did he stand up. “Iris, you’re recovering well. You just need to rest.” His voice was soft, gentle. “I should go check on Lena now.” A sarcastic smile touched my lips. How kind of him to remember me. Too bad he didn’t know I was already dead. I had bled out completely, my eyes open in a final, unseeing stare. Weston tucked the blanket around Iris and turned to leave. But she reached out and grabbed his arm. “Weston, I just had surgery. I don’t have anyone to look after me. Can you stay? Just for a little while?” He froze, his expression conflicted. “But Lena just had surgery too. I was worried she’d cause a scene, so I had her locked in the operating room. It’s been eight hours. If I don’t let her out, I’m afraid something might happen.” A flash of jealousy crossed Iris’s face, but she quickly masked it with a look of selfless concern. “You’re right. She must be furious. Last time, after she gave me her kidney, she was still recovering when she came to my room and slapped me. My face was swollen for two weeks! And after the skin graft, she stormed in, covered in blood, screaming at me, calling me shameless. It was so humiliating. But it’s okay. I brought it on myself. She’s saved me so many times, I should be grateful. Weston, you don’t have to worry about me. Go to Lena. And please, tell her for me, that as soon as I’m better, I’ll come and thank her personally, on my knees.” Her words were sweet, but every one was a carefully crafted accusation against me. And just as she intended, Weston’s expression hardened. He sat back down on the bed. “I’d almost forgotten how unreasonable she can be,” he sneered. “She’s always used the fact that she’s ‘helped’ you as an excuse to humiliate you. If I hadn’t locked her up this time, who knows what kind of scene she would have made. Forget her. She’s tough. She won’t die. A little more time locked up will do her good. Teach her a lesson.” Even though I had expected it, tears welled in my spectral eyes. Tough? Maybe once. But now, after everything they had done to me, I was a wreck, my body ravaged by illness and pain. I bit my lip, my voice a silent scream. Weston, you don’t have to bother locking me up. I’m already dead! You don’t have to teach me any more lessons. The dead don’t cause trouble! But he couldn’t hear me. Iris, her eyes gleaming with triumph, pressed against him. “Weston, she saved my life so many times. I deserved her anger. And she is your wife, after all. You should go to her.” Weston’s brow furrowed in disgust. “What’s the point? I told her from the beginning—you saved my life. By marrying me, she accepted the responsibility of repaying that debt. It’s her duty to save you. I’ve spoiled her, that’s the problem. She’s become so selfish and demanding. This time, I’m going to teach her a lesson she won’t forget. Then maybe she’ll finally leave you alone.” I floated above him, tears of bitter laughter streaming down my face. He could repay his debt. But why did he have to use my body to do it? Iris, feigning tears, wrapped her arms around his waist. “Weston, I know you care about me. But Lena must be so angry. She’ll have to come out eventually. What if she tries to get revenge on me?” Weston’s fist clenched. “Then I’ll keep her locked up for a few more days. I’ll let her out after you’re discharged.” I let out a cold, silent laugh. By the time she was discharged, my body would be rotting. Iris snuggled into his embrace, a triumphant smile on her face. “Weston, will you stay with me for the next few days? I’m scared to be alone.” He was about to answer when the door to the room burst open. His assistant rushed in, his face pale with panic. “Dr. Croft, you need to get to the operating room, now! It’s your wife… something’s wrong!” Weston just stared for a moment, then scoffed. “What now? What kind of drama is she pulling this time? And I thought I told you not to let her out without my permission.” The assistant shook his head frantically, on the verge of tears. “No, sir, we didn’t let her out! It’s… just, you have to come see for yourself!” Weston’s face was a mask of annoyance, but he stood up. He stroked Iris’s cheek, his voice softening. “You rest. I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, as long as I’m here, Lena won’t dare to bother you.” He followed his assistant out, his expression grim. “She better have a good reason for this. If I find out this is just another one of her games, I’ll make her regret it.” I drifted behind him, a mocking smile on my lips. Oh, Weston. You’ll find out soon enough if I’m playing games. I hope you can keep your composure when you see my blood-soaked corpse. A crowd had gathered outside the operating room. Doctors, who saw life and death every day, were clustered together, their faces etched with anxiety. When they saw Weston, they rushed toward him as if he were their savior. “Dr. Croft, we did as you said. We had someone guard the door. But it’s been eight hours, and there’s been no sound from inside. We were worried about your wife, so we decided to open the door and bring her some food. But the door is jammed. We can’t see inside, but… there’s a lot of blood seeping out from under the door.” “We’ve been calling her name, but there’s no answer. Dr. Croft, with all that blood… do you think something’s happened?” Weston glanced down at the floor. Just as they’d said, a large pool of dark blood had seeped out from under the door. The sight of it was chilling. Anyone with a shred of medical knowledge would know that amount of blood loss was fatal. But Weston, the chief surgeon, just looked on, unmoved. “What are you panicking for? You’re doctors. You’ve seen blood before. Tell me, what kind of blood is this color?” He pointed a disdainful finger at the dark, almost black puddle. “You call yourselves doctors, and you’re scared by a little fake blood?” I looked down, a knot of cold dread tightening in my non-existent stomach. Perhaps because I’d been dead for a while, the blood had oxidized, turning a strange, dark color. The other doctors exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared to contradict him. He sneered and kicked the door. “Lena, you never change, do you? You’d go to such pathetic lengths just to get my attention. You want out so badly, then why are you blocking the door? I’ll say it again: Iris is my savior. It’s my duty to save her. Can you just stop with this childish behavior? I’m counting to three. If you don’t open this door, you can stay in there forever!” “Three!” “Two!” “One!” The countdown ended. The operating room remained silent. Someone brought a crowbar, but Weston kicked it away. “Since she wants to be stubborn, then I’ll let her be! Seal the door! Get ten security guards and post them here. Don’t open it even if she gets on her knees and begs! Let’s see how tough she really is!” I floated behind him, watching with cold detachment. He didn’t know the door was jammed not because I was blocking it, but because my stiff, lifeless body was wedged against it. If he had just pushed a little harder, pried it open a little wider, he would have seen my mangled corpse. After the door was sealed, Weston kicked it twice more, his voice filled with venom. “Go on, Lena, keep playing your games! Let’s see how long you can last! If you’re really so tough, then stay in there forever! Don’t come crying to me to let you out!” I looked at his furious face, a cold smile forming on my lips. I won’t. I won’t beg you to open the door. Because I’m never coming out of there alive.

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