Category: English

In the seventh year after being brought back to my biological family, I had already followed my parents’ demands, married a man I didn’t love, and raised a three-year-old daughter. The adopted daughter, who was a year older than me, was still acting like a spoiled child in our parents’ arms because she was “still young at heart.” The bitter feud between the biological and the adopted daughter had long faded like smoke. My family should have returned to peace. So, when I was on the verge of being beaten to death by my husband, I called my family. “I’m dying. Can you come pick Lily up and take her home, just like you picked me up all those years ago?” 01 I knew I was finally going to die, so I didn’t dial 911. Instead, I called my family. My mother answered the phone. She was in the middle of getting a manicure, her tone laced with impatience. “What is it now?” I covered the bleeding wound on my neck and told her I was dying. Could they come and take Lily away? Lily was only three years old. She was sleeping upstairs, completely unaware of the absolute devastation below. I couldn’t stop the bleeding. Beside me lay the shattered remains of a wine bottle, and after finishing his violent rampage, my husband had passed out on the sofa, snoring loudly. “Harper, are you ever going to stop? You pull this dramatic stunt every other week!” My brother, Asher, snatched the phone and started screaming at me. “You’ve been married for four years! Every time you call, you’re either crying for a divorce or claiming you’re going to be beaten to death. Is your life really that miserable?!” I fell silent. I didn’t know if I was numb from the pain or if I had just lost too much blood, but I felt incredibly tired. Looking back, I had actually been tired for years. I was kidnapped at five years old, forced to work like a slave on a remote, off-the-grid farm. I never saw the light of day, working until my back couldn’t stand straight. At fifteen, I finally came home. Faced with the deeply beloved adopted daughter who had taken my place, I walked on eggshells just to survive in the cracks of my own home, crying silently through countless nights because I was so tired. At eighteen, I was forced into an arranged marriage with an abusive heir. To avoid being beaten, I humbly played the role of a perfect, submissive wife, swallowing my grievances just to keep him happy. I was tired to the point that every inch of my skin twitched. At twenty, I fell into severe clinical depression. My daughter Lily’s smile was the only thing keeping me breathing. Every day felt like standing on the edge of a cliff staring into the abyss—wanting to jump, but terrified to take the step. I was tired to the point of ringing ears and a piercing ache in my heart. Finally, I was twenty-two, and a piece of a shattered wine bottle had sliced through my carotid artery. Suddenly, I wasn’t tired anymore. Because I was finally going to die. I answered Asher, “I’m not acting this time. I’m really dying. Can you please come over right now? I’m afraid Lily will be scared.” Actually, over the years, I hadn’t “acted” that many times. I had only mentioned divorce to my family three times. When they got annoyed, I never dared to bring it up again. I had only told my family I was hurt four times. When they didn’t believe me, I never mentioned it again. From the time I was brought home until now—seven years, seven cries for help. That wasn’t considered a lot, was it? “Then go die. We’ll pick Lily up when you’re dead!” 02 Asher hung up. I knew he wasn’t coming for Lily. Seven years, my eighth cry for help, and I had failed again. I smiled a bleak, tragic smile, leaning weakly against the wall. Half of my body felt burning hot. Steam seemed to rise from the fresh blood. I glanced upstairs. It was dead silent. Lily hadn’t woken up yet. Or maybe she was awake, but she was too terrified to come down. She was probably curled up under her blankets, shivering. Thinking of that, my heart twisted in agony. I tried to crawl up, but my strength was completely drained. What should I do? My tiny, innocent daughter was trembling in bed, and I couldn’t help her at all. After I died, if no one came to take her away, she would be left alone to face that demon. How was she going to survive? My phone suddenly buzzed. An Instagram DM notification popped up. I gasped for air, struggling to focus my eyes on the screen. It was from Mia, the girl they had adopted. [Harper, today is my 23rd birthday party. The whole family is here celebrating with me, so nobody has the time or energy to deal with you.] [Honestly, I don’t get it. You’ve already lost so completely, why won’t you just give up?] My lips moved, the metallic taste of blood spreading in my mouth. It wasn’t that I hadn’t given up. I just couldn’t let go of Lily. I don’t know where the last burst of strength came from, but I desperately pressed the microphone icon to send Mia a voice memo. I begged the person I hated the most. “Mia… I’m sorry. I was wrong… I shouldn’t have been hostile to you… I shouldn’t have fought for their love… I’ll beg on my hands and knees… Please, just come get my daughter…” Through broken, stuttering breaths, I bled, and I cried. All the dignity I had clung to for years completely shattered in that moment, ground into the dirt by my own hands. I had never bowed my head to Mia. Because I always believed that I was the true daughter of the Bennett family, and she was just a cuckoo in the nest, a fake taking up my space. But now, I bowed my head. I surrendered. “What?” Mia was clearly stunned, but then she laughed loudly. “No way? You… that’s hilarious. You’re going to beg on your knees? Seriously? Then let me hear you bang your head!” 03 Fine. I would beg Mia. I held down the voice record button, leaned my body forward, and slammed my forehead hard against the hardwood floor. Thud, thud, thud! The sound of my head hitting the floor sent over the app. I was nearing the edge of unconsciousness, crawling on the floor like a dog, gasping violently for air. Mia laughed again. “No way, you actually did it?! Haha, I have to admit, that feels amazing. Seven years, and I finally got you to surrender!” Yes, I surrendered. “Take Harper… home…” I shivered as I sent out the final voice memo. Mia’s tone shifted instantly. “Harper Bennett, are you messing with me? Didn’t you say you wanted us to take your daughter home? Why did it suddenly turn into taking you home? Subconsciously, you still just want to come back and steal my spot, don’t you?!” I stared blankly, my mind a muddy haze. Did I say ‘Take Harper home’? No, I meant to say ‘Take Lily home’! I didn’t have to go home, but Lily had to! But I didn’t have the strength to say another word. “Harper, say something! Did I hit the nail on the head, so now you’re too scared to speak?” Mia questioned me sharply. In the background of her voice note, I could hear my father’s strict, authoritative voice. “Harper, stop causing a scene! I’m visiting the Montgomery estate in half a month. I’ll see you then!” In half a month… my family was finally going to visit me? But I couldn’t wait that long. I was going to die. Lily, I’m so sorry. In the end, Mommy couldn’t help you escape this living hell. I just hoped ghosts were real, so Mommy could at least watch over you a little longer. 04 When I opened my eyes again, I was floating above my own corpse. Ghosts really did exist. The sun was up, but inside and outside the mansion, it was dead quiet. My husband, Declan, had long since fired all the maids. He forced me to be the housekeeper, which also made it easier for him to abuse me without anyone watching. So, even during the day, nobody came to the house. I noticed Declan was about to wake up. His snoring had stopped. I didn’t care about him. I hurriedly floated upstairs and phased through the bedroom door. Just as I thought, Lily was curled up tight under her blankets, her eyes squeezed shut, her tears soaking the pillow. There was a large wet spot under her. She had wet the bed, but she had been too terrified to move, crying herself to sleep like that. My heart broke. I leaned down to stroke her cheek, but my hand passed right through. Downstairs, Declan let out a shout of shock. He must have discovered my body. Sure enough, he quickly started dismembering me. Even though I was already a ghost, an icy chill still ran through my soul. The pure, unadulterated evil of human nature was fully on display with Declan. Yet, ironically, he was the perfect son-in-law my family had handpicked. Originally, my parents had planned to marry Mia to Declan. The two families had verbally agreed to a corporate merger through marriage. The Montgomery Group was the leading corporate titan in the city, and Declan was handsome, sharp, and had a limitless future. Mia had been thrilled about him, and they even went on a few dates. But then, a scandal leaked. Rumors surfaced that Declan had abused an escort to death at an underground club, causing a massive PR nightmare. My parents and my brother were deeply worried. They feared Declan was a beast in human clothing, a sadist, so they decided not to let Mia get too close to him anymore. But they couldn’t afford to burn bridges with the Montgomery family, so they made me take Mia’s place and marry him instead. [Harper is our biological daughter. She is a much better match for the Montgomery heir.] [Our Harper is gentle and submissive. She’s not like Mia, running wild all day without an ounce of proper etiquette!] [Mia still refuses to grow up. She’s basically a child herself. It’s better if we don’t marry her off yet, lest she embarrass the family!] At the time, that was what my parents said. Every word seemed to be criticizing Mia, which ultimately got the Montgomery family to nod and accept me as the bride. Looking back at it now, every word of ‘criticism’ toward Mia was actually dripping with profound, protective love. I gave a self-deprecating laugh and floated into the bathroom to watch Declan chop me up. 05 Declan’s face was deathly pale. He was swinging a meat cleaver, cursing me the entire time. It seemed like he was constantly insulting me just to comfort his own guilty conscience. He called me a filthy slut. He said I had been used by hundreds of men, and that I was completely unworthy of him. He said I deserved to die. I was confused. How was I a slut? Declan’s frantic muttering gave me the answer: “You filthy bitch, don’t blame me! Mia told me everything a long time ago. She told me how you turned tricks in that remote village, how you had abortions and birthed bastards! What right did you have to marry me?!” “You deserved every beating I gave you! You brought this on yourself!” It hit me like a ton of bricks. Mia was the one pulling the strings. No wonder when I first married Declan, he was friendly and treated me with basic respect. Then, his personality suddenly snapped. He abused me relentlessly, eventually leading to my death. Mia, you were so ruthless. Even when I had lost so completely, you still refused to let me go. By the time the sun set, Declan was finally done. He packed my body into heavy plastic bags and stuffed them into the large double-door freezer. He scrubbed the living room until it sparkled, leaving no trace of what happened. I didn’t know when Lily had gotten out of bed. She was crouching by the second-floor banister, peeking timidly downstairs. Declan looked up and spotted her, his voice as dark and sinister as a demon’s: “Lily, what did you see?” Lily was too scared to make a sound. “I said, speak!” Declan roared, terrifying Lily into furiously shaking her head. “No… nothing…” I was heartbroken and furious. I wanted to bite Declan’s throat out. But I couldn’t touch him at all. Declan gave a cold snort. He grabbed a few bags of dinner rolls from the pantry and tossed them up the stairs. “You are not allowed to come downstairs. If you dare come down, I’ll break your legs!” Lily nodded in sheer terror and scurried back into her bedroom. Declan didn’t linger. He grabbed a bag of my remains and rushed out the door under the cover of night. Lily then carefully sneaked out. She peered down the stairs for a long time, then trembling, she slowly crept down. My heart leaped into my throat. What was she doing? I watched as she walked straight to the refrigerator and pried open the bottom freezer drawer. My head was hidden right there, buried behind a pile of frozen meats. “Mommy…” Lily whispered. My ghost tears fell. She had seen everything. 06 The following days were spent with Declan disposing of the body. Every day, he would take a few pieces of me out the door. But sometimes, he would bring them back and freeze them again. In a bustling metropolis, it wasn’t easy to get rid of a body. At the very least, my head remained constantly frozen in the fridge. Lily was very obedient. She only snuck down to look at me after Declan left the house, and then ran back to her room crying. She ate, drank, and used the bathroom entirely on the second floor. Her only food was snacks and stale bread. Living like this would be suffocating and despair-inducing even for an adult. My heart ached beyond words. I finally floated out of the mansion, hoping to find a way to help her. Unknowingly, I drifted all the way to my parents’ house. That familiar yet foreign mansion glowed with warm light. Like I was possessed, I floated inside and saw Mia sitting on the couch, throwing a tantrum. “We agreed we were going on vacation tomorrow! I already planned the whole itinerary!” Mia was clearly a year older than me, but at home, she always acted like a spoiled child. My dad smiled dotingly. “Dad just got his dates mixed up, sweetie. I have to go to the Montgomery Group tomorrow to sign the new round of contracts. I’ll drop by to see your sister while I’m at it. Dad will take you on vacation the day after tomorrow.” “Yes, Mia, the contracts can’t be delayed. Don’t throw a tantrum now,” my mom said, shaking her head, though her lips were curved into a fond smile. My brother, Asher, looked up from the documents he was flipping through. “I can go sign the contracts. Taking Mia on vacation is more important.” “Right! Right! I want to go on vacation!” Mia kicked her legs and whined, incredibly demanding. To be honest, I was jealous of her. Kidnapped for ten years, when did I ever get to act like a spoiled child? After coming home, how could I ever dare to act like that? Only in my blurriest memories, when I was five, did I recklessly throw tantrums. “Well…” My dad looked conflicted. “I should go check on Harper. After all, we haven’t visited her in years.” Hearing this, Mia’s face darkened. She crossed her arms and huffed. “Fine, go. She’s your biological daughter, after all.” My dad instantly panicked, coaxing her like a toddler. “That’s not what I meant. I just think if we don’t visit for too long, the Montgomerys will think we don’t care and might look down on them.” My mom chimed in to agree. “Yes, the two families are tied by marriage. We should show we care.” “How about this? I’ll take you on vacation tomorrow, and your dad will go sign the contracts.” Only then was Mia satisfied. She smiled brightly and started eating a pastry. The family was perfectly happy and harmonious again. I floated silently in mid-air, unmoving for a long time. Suddenly, my mom glanced in my direction. Naturally, she didn’t see anything. But she rubbed her chest and muttered to herself, “I don’t know what’s wrong. I just got a sudden palpitation.” “Mom, are you okay?” Asher asked in concern. Dad and Mia also looked over. Mom waved her hand. “It’s nothing. I can’t explain it, I just feel a little uneasy. Probably just getting older.” The whole family laughed. Mia quickly praised Mom, saying she was still young and beautiful, making Mom burst into laughter. But she kept rubbing her chest. 07 Late that night, Mom seemed to have insomnia. She tossed and turned, waking Dad up. Dad was frustrated. “Honey, what are you doing? I have to get up early tomorrow.” “I don’t know what’s wrong. My heart is racing. I can’t sleep.” Mom was distressed, completely confused by her own anxiety. Dad thought about it. “Are you worried about the contract tomorrow? We’ve worked with the Montgomerys for years. Nothing will go wrong.” “It’s not the contract. I can’t explain it.” Mom ran her hands through her hair. Dad frowned. “If it’s not the contract, what else could it be? Harper? Did that phone call of hers scare you?” Mom froze, then started rubbing her chest again. Dad found it funny. “What’s with that look? Are you actually worried about Harper? She’s doing great. Who knows how happy she is, married to Declan.” Mom looked thoughtful and let out a heavy sigh. “I have a feeling Harper isn’t doing well. The last time she came back to visit, her wrists were covered in bruises.” Dad went silent. Mom continued, “She kept wanting a divorce, begging us to help her. I could tell Declan treated her terribly.” Dad stayed silent. I floated by the headboard, my dead heart giving a sudden tremor. Mom, you knew? Then why… why wouldn’t you help me? Mom provided the answer. “But there was nothing we could do. We couldn’t let Mia marry him. Mia has never suffered a day in her life. She couldn’t handle Declan’s beatings and verbal abuse.” “Harper suffered for ten years. She’s mentally much stronger. Taking a little beating and scolding won’t hurt her. It’s not like it’s going to kill her.” Dad nodded. The two turned off the lights and went to sleep in each other’s arms. My heart went completely dead again. I turned and drifted away. 08 I floated back to Declan’s house. Declan was busy moving body parts through the night. He had clearly found out my dad was visiting tomorrow. Because it was hard to dump bodies in the city, he had been moving pieces little by little, like an ant carrying crumbs, which meant a lot of me was still in the freezer. Maybe he was too nervous, or maybe he was just too busy and forgot. He moved all the body parts out, except he forgot my head. My head was tucked away in the bottom freezer drawer, hidden behind a bag of frozen sausages. It wasn’t until dawn that Declan finished. After a hasty check of the fridge, he collapsed into bed and slept. Lily hid on the second floor, peeking at him without making a sound. After all these days, Lily was emaciated and sickly, her eyes hollow. Hunger and terror had tortured her until she barely looked human. I secretly cheered her on. Lily, you have to escape today! It was past noon when Declan finally woke up. He rushed to shower, changed his clothes, and with a guilty conscience, checked the fridge one more time. Once again, he missed my head. Not long after, a car pulled up outside. My dad had arrived. He came alone, carrying some gifts, a faint smile on his face. Declan forced a smile and went out to greet him, enthusiastically shaking my dad’s hand. “Dad! Welcome, welcome.” Dad laughed heartily and looked behind Declan. “You’re too polite, Declan. Where’s my daughter?” “Harper… she went shopping with her friends bright and early. Said she wouldn’t be back tonight.” Declan lied. Dad frowned. “Did she not know I was coming?” “She knew, she knew…” Declan’s eyes shifted, making it look like he was intentionally trying to anger my dad. Dad narrowed his eyes and nodded dismissively. “Well, just take the gifts then. That disappointing daughter of mine only knows how to play around all day. I hope you don’t hold it against her.” Declan waved his hands, insisting it was fine. Dad asked again, “What about Lily?” “Harper took Lily with her. She won’t be back tonight either.” Declan continued to lie. Dad’s frown deepened, casting a displeased look toward the house. “Fine then. I’ll get going. I’ll come back another time… You know what, forget it. I won’t bother coming back at all!” Declan nodded repeatedly, respectfully seeing my dad off. Dad got into his car and didn’t even look back. I was frantic. Even though I hated my father, right now, I had no choice but to beg him for help. My daughter needed him! I involuntarily lunged forward, phasing into the car. Dad was sitting in the back seat, answering a call from my mom. Mom asked him if he saw me. Dad sneered. “Harper has some nerve. She knew I was visiting her today, yet she went out shopping early in the morning and even took my granddaughter. Isn’t she doing this on purpose to spite me?” “She didn’t stay home to wait for you?” “Wait for what?! I didn’t even step through the front door! If she’s going to give me attitude, why should I bother looking at her!” Dad was still fuming. On the other end of the line, Mia giggled. “Oh my, a married daughter is like thrown-out water. Harper’s wings have grown hard now. She even looks down on her own biological father.” With her fanning the flames, Dad got even angrier. Mom was also displeased. “Don’t leave just yet. I’ll call Harper and see where she is.” She hung up and called my phone. But my phone had been smashed to pieces by Declan ages ago. How could she possibly get through? A moment later, Mom called Dad back. “Harper isn’t answering her phone. Her wings really have grown hard! Before, whenever we called her, no matter how busy she was, she would pick up instantly!” It was true. Before, what I craved most was a phone call from my parents. Even if they didn’t call me more than a few times a year, the moment they did, I would answer immediately, overflowing with excitement. But now, I was dead. I couldn’t pick up. “That Harper is completely out of line. She can forget about ever coming back to visit us!” Dad slapped his thigh in anger. Mia started fanning the flames again. “Dad, we absolutely have to teach Harper a lesson. How about this? Mom and I will skip the vacation and come meet you right now.” “We’ll call Asher too. The whole family will go put Harper in her place. Let’s see how arrogant she can be!”

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At 11:00 AM, as my husband slowly suffocated in the bathtub, I was chatting with the other moms by the apartment complex’s playground slide. The slide was directly below our bathroom window, barely twenty feet away in a straight line. Normally, I would have gone home at 11:00 AM as usual, which would have given me enough time to save his life. But as fate would have it, Lily’s mom had just bought a new dress and enthusiastically invited us over to her place to admire it. When my daughter and I finally returned home at 11:10 AM, my husband was already dead. At the funeral, I was inconsolable, fainting several times from grief. Everyone sighed in sympathy. My mother-in-law, Martha, a tough elementary school principal who had traveled all the way from a remote town in the Midwest, walked right up to me in front of everyone. With a steely expression, she enunciated every single word: “You are the murderer who killed my son!” 01 It was an ordinary Saturday in late summer. Because he had pulled an all-nighter for work the day before, Arthur woke up a bit late, only sitting down at the dining table for breakfast around 10:00 AM. At 10:05 AM, our daughter, Mia, rushed me to go downstairs for the eighth time. As I was crouching by the door tying Mia’s shoelaces, she shook her head and made a funny face at her dad. “Daddy is a lazybones, the sun is already high in the sky and you just woke up. Shame on you, Daddy.” Arthur let out a muffled chuckle and made a funny face right back at her. “Mia is a little troublemaker, always needing Mommy to go downstairs and play with her. Shame on you too, Mia.” I was clumsily grabbing the water bottle and tissues. As I opened the door, I remembered something and turned around to remind him: “Honey, Mia is definitely going to work up a sweat today. Remember to start drawing the bathwater early so she can wash up as soon as she gets back.” Our bathtub filled slowly; it always took over 20 minutes to fill completely. Arthur held a bagel in one hand and gave a two-finger salute from his temple with the other. “Don’t worry, wifey, mission guaranteed to be accomplished!” I rolled my eyes at him. “Let’s go!” The slide was right below our apartment, the liveliest spot in the whole complex. Kids were running around everywhere, and parents were gathered in groups chatting. After sitting down with a few moms I knew well, I patted my pockets and realized in my rush, I had forgotten my phone. I turned to ask Lily’s mom next to me. “What time is it now? I left my phone at home.” Lily’s mom pulled out her newest foldable smartphone like she was showing it off and said loudly: “10:40.” Just as she finished speaking, our second-floor bathroom window opened. Arthur poked his head out, smiling and shouting down to me: “Honey, I’m starting the water! Come up when you’re done playing!” I turned to look at Mia, who was sweating profusely from playing, and gave him an “OK” sign. “Got it!” Arthur politely waved to the other moms before closing the window. The moms started gushing. “Your husband is just perfect. He’s handsome and has a great personality. I heard he made partner this year? He must be making a couple hundred thousand a year now, right?” “A couple hundred thousand? Try more than that! A lawyer at Mr. Sterling’s level easily makes over a million a year! Mia’s mom, you can just sit back and relax as a stay-at-home mom!” “He’s so capable, yet he comes home on time every day, helps with chores and cooking on the weekends, is always smiling, and doesn’t have any bad habits. Compared to my husband… tsk tsk, it’s like night and day.” “I’m not jealous of anything else, I’m just jealous of how much you two love each other. Take that car accident, for example. He really risked his own life for you!” The moms all nodded in agreement, sighing with envy. Half a year ago, while Arthur and I were driving to buy some plants, our car was rear-ended by a large truck and flipped over. The front of the car burst into flames almost instantly. His side, the driver’s side, was facing up, and he was quickly pulled out by bystanders. But I was pinned underneath, unable to move. Seeing the fire growing larger, everyone started backing away. Only Arthur pulled and tugged like a madman, his hands sliced open and bleeding profusely, screaming hoarsely, “Save my wife, please, someone save her!” Just five seconds after he finally managed to drag me out with his own strength, the car exploded with a massive roar. The accident was recorded and posted online, generating a massive amount of attention for a while. Netizens said I must have saved the galaxy in my past life to find a husband who loved me this much. Thinking of the scene from that day, my eyes reddened slightly. Arthur usually looked like a gentle scholar, but I never expected him to be so brave and fearless in a critical moment. Later, because he injured the tendons and bones in two fingers of his right hand and couldn’t do fine motor tasks anymore, my heart ached so much I couldn’t stop crying. He patted my head and smiled comfortingly: “It’s okay. I make my living with my brain anyway. Losing two more fingers wouldn’t stop me from taking care of you!” Right now. Amidst the moms’ sighs of admiration, I nodded honestly. “Yeah, he really is a perfect husband.” 02 “My husband isn’t bad either, you know!” Lily’s mom chimed in, raising her voice. “My husband went to Paris this time and brought me back several designer dresses. They’re absolutely gorgeous. Come on, let’s go to my place and I’ll show you!” Lily’s mom had a significant age gap with her husband and was constantly trying to show off how much he loved her, proving she married for love and not just for money. I smiled and shook my head. “I’ll pass. I have to take Mia up for her bath. You guys go ahead.” Lily’s mom loved comparing herself to me the most, and immediately expressed her dissatisfaction. “Didn’t your husband just say to come up in a little bit? Going to my place won’t take that long. You can’t even give me this little bit of face!” At 11:00 AM, I came out of Lily’s mom’s house. At 11:05 AM, I caught Mia, who was running wild by the slide, and pulled her along, telling her it was time to go home. She refused at first. She begged for “five more minutes,” “Mommy, just five more minutes, please?” I flatly refused, using the excuse that “the bathwater is getting cold.” She aggrievedly said goodbye to her little friends one by one. The parents sitting in a circle nearby watched with amusement, exchanging knowing smiles with me. At 11:08 AM, Mia and I got to the second floor and bumped into our single neighbor across the hall, Sam, who was coming out to throw away his trash. He greeted us, his face slightly flushed. Mia held his hand and sweetly asked when he would help her build her Lego set again. Meanwhile, I took out my keys and unlocked the door. At 11:09 AM, while Mia was saying goodbye to Sam in the hallway, I walked into the bathroom because Arthur didn’t answer when I called out “Honey.” At 11:10 AM, I let out a piercing scream. Arthur’s pale face was submerged under the water, his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. He was already dead. 03 A lot of people came to the funeral. There were Arthur’s colleagues and friends, neighbors from our apartment complex, and even representatives from charitable organizations holding funeral wreaths. It was only then that everyone found out Arthur had been donating to rural children through charities for the past few years—$20,000 a year, totaling over $100,000. People sighed and lamented. “What a good man. Heaven is blind; why did this kind of accident have to happen to him! The good die young, while the wicked live for a thousand years!” “Arthur did a lot of pro bono legal aid over the years. He just made partner this year. He even said he was going to work hard for his wife and kid from now on, who would have thought…” “They were so in love. How is Mia’s mom going to bear this! She’s fainted several times over the past few days. Thank goodness the people from the HOA are keeping an eye on her.” “Mia’s mom doesn’t have an income, and they still have a mortgage. If Arthur had lived, they would have paid it off in a year or two. Things are going to be really tough for her from now on.” “This accident was truly a freak occurrence. I heard he slipped, hit his head, and knocked himself out, and the water ran for 20 minutes before slowly covering his nose and mouth. If he had woken up during that time, or if Mia’s mom had come home, he could have been saved at any moment. Sigh, you can only say it was fate!” Amidst the hushed whispers, I sat to the side, deathly pale, staring blankly at Arthur’s photo. Over the past few days, I had been completely consumed by extreme grief, crying until I was heartbroken, fainting multiple times. Anyone who saw me couldn’t help but sigh in sympathy. An HOA worker sat beside me, occasionally offering a few words of comfort. Lily’s mom walked over, looking guilty, and said: “Mia’s mom, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t made you go to my place and waste time that day, maybe… maybe Arthur wouldn’t have died!” By the end of her sentence, she covered her mouth and sobbed. I shook my head mournfully. “No, it has nothing to do with you. It’s my fault. I was the one who told him to start the water early. I was the one who forgot my phone, forcing him to open the window to call me, which caused him to slip. I was the one who said I’d be home at 11 but dawdled and was ten minutes late. It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, I killed him…” The HOA worker quickly interjected to comfort me. “Mia’s mom, you absolutely cannot think like that. It was just a tragic series of coincidences that no one could control. Besides, the police also said it was an accident—a freak accident with an incredibly low probability.” That day, when I screamed, Sam was the first to rush in. Realizing what had happened, he immediately blocked Mia outside and helped me call 911. After investigating the scene and conducting interviews, the police roughly deduced the sequence of events leading to the accident: 10:40 AM: Arthur turned on the faucet to fill the bathtub while simultaneously opening the window to talk to me. Because the window was on the same side as the bathtub and opened inward, he had to lean his body diagonally to stick his head out. However, while closing the window, he accidentally lost his balance, fell into the bathtub, and was knocked unconscious. 10:40 AM – 11:00 AM: The water slowly rose until it submerged his head. 11:00 AM – 11:05 AM: After being submerged for 5 minutes, Arthur died of asphyxiation. He never regained consciousness during the entire process, as there were no signs of struggle or water splashed outside the tub. 11:10 AM: I came home and discovered the accident scene. During this time, from when Arthur showed his face at the window to when I returned home, no outsiders entered or exited the hallway, and there were no suspicious traces at the scene. It was ruled an accident. Someone shook their head and sighed. “It really proves the saying, ‘When your time is up, there’s no escaping it.’ …Wait, who is that at the door? Why is she wearing such thick clothes on such a hot day?” “Yeah, isn’t she hot?” I kept my head down like a walking corpse, completely numb to everything around me. “She’s walking towards Mia’s mom.” “She’s not here to ask the grieving family for money, is she? That would be way out of line. This is a funeral, not a wedding.” A pair of worn, gray women’s sneakers came into my field of vision. The shoes were an old style, with small, matching-color patches, and covered in a fine layer of dust, as if narrating how far they had traveled. “Mia’s mom, do you recognize me?” A slightly weathered voice sounded. The voice was very close, right by my ear. I slowly raised my head. Before me was the face of an elderly woman. Her skin was dry and wrinkled, her temples graying, but her gaze was piercing beneath her drooping eyelids. On this hot summer day, she wore an inappropriately thick, light-wool coat, a worn black tote bag over one arm, and an old, chipped thermos in her other hand. “I am Martha, the mother-in-law you’ve never met.” I stared at her blankly, my exhausted neural pathways beginning to stretch, connect, bridge… My eyes suddenly flew wide open: “Mom?” Martha slowly nodded. “It’s good that you recognize me.” The crowd gathered around. “So it’s Arthur’s mother. Sigh, the white-haired burying the black-haired. My deepest condolences.” “It’s good that you’re here. With family to support each other, Mia’s mom and her daughter won’t be so miserable.” Someone kindly offered to help Martha with her bag and thermos. She slowly shook her head in refusal, turned to look at Arthur’s memorial photo, and then stared straight at me. “From the day I learned of my son’s death, I left the Midwest and traveled here non-stop, just to tell the police one sentence.” She stared at me, her expression resolute, enunciating every word. “You are the murderer who killed my son.” 04 After Martha dropped that bombshell, she turned and left, and no one could stop her. She appeared suddenly. And disappeared just as abruptly. As if she had come solely to deliver that one sentence. After looking at each other in bewilderment, everyone came over to comfort me. “Mia’s mom, the old lady might just be confused from grief. Don’t take it to heart. At a time like this, it’s easy for grief to mess with your head.” “Yeah, an old lady from a rural area who doesn’t know the situation probably heard some baseless rumors and believed them. Just sit down and have a good talk with her later.” “We’ve never seen Arthur’s mom before. Showing up right when he dies, could she be here to fight for custody or the inheritance?” “Never even heard of her, let alone seen her! Mia’s mom, that old lady just said she’s never met you. Are you sure that’s really Arthur’s mom?” I didn’t speak; I felt so weak I could barely hold myself up. An HOA worker handed me a cup of hot tea. “Alright, alright, stop asking questions. Right now, the most important thing is to finish the funeral properly and let Mia’s mom get some rest. Everything else will sort itself out.” I lowered my head and took a few sips of the hot tea, my mind slowly clearing a bit. Yes. Martha was indeed Arthur’s biological mother. Eight years ago, when Arthur and I got married, I saw this mother-in-law for the first time on a video call. She divorced Arthur’s father when Arthur was fifteen, abandoned everything, and went to teach in a remote town in the Midwest. Since then, mother and son were separated and lost contact for years. After Arthur’s father died, Arthur, who now had some financial stability, finally managed to track her down after several years and wanted to bring her to the city to live out her retirement. She refused, saying that when she decided to go to the mountains, she swore an oath never to leave that land. Over the past few years, Arthur traveled to the Midwest alone twice to visit her, while I only briefly video-chatted with her once a year on Mia’s birthday. At this very moment, I was plunged into deep confusion and bewilderment. I couldn’t understand why this woman, who swore never to leave the Midwest, had suddenly traveled all this way? Why did she suddenly say such a thing to me? Through my grief, I pondered endlessly… After the funeral, Martha didn’t leave the city. She stayed. Naturally, she didn’t stay in my apartment, but rather in a cheap motel near the train station. Late at night, the bright moon hung high in the sky, looking down on the joys and sorrows of the world below. I sat alone, wiping away tears as I looked at Arthur’s photo, and made a decision in my heart. No matter why she came. Whether for the child. Or the money. Or if there was some misunderstanding. She was, after all, my husband’s mother, my child’s grandmother. I couldn’t completely ignore her. 05 The next day, after packing some daily necessities, bedding, and a comforter, I knocked on the door of my neighbor across the hall, Sam. When he saw me, his gaze flickered. He hurriedly smoothed his hair and straightened his clothes. I tactfully expressed that I needed his help and asked if he was free and if it was convenient for him to give me a ride. “Of course.” “I’m free anytime,” he said, looking at me. Sam drove Mia and me to the cheap motel near the train station. The motel was dilapidated and dimly lit, with a sign out front reading: [Rooms – $30/night] “Mommy, does Grandma live here? It’s so rundown. Let’s have Grandma live at our house, okay?” Mia’s childish voice piped up. I sighed. “Grandma is a bit stubborn. She probably won’t agree.” Sam walked over, carrying several bags. “Mia’s mom, there’s a lot of stuff here. Let me help you bring it up.” I hesitated. “Maybe not. It’s too much trouble for you. You can just wait for us here.” A hint of worry crossed Sam’s face, and he said gently: “The old lady said those things to you the other day. If you two are alone and get into an argument, I can keep an eye on things. Mostly, I just don’t want Mia to get scared.” I smiled bitterly and nodded. “Thanks for your help, then.” When I saw Martha again. She was sitting in the spartan room, fiddling with her phone. Seeing me standing in the doorway, she froze for a moment, then stood up, her gaze calm. I took a deep breath and slowly began. “Mom, I know you probably don’t want to come stay at the house, so I brought you some things. No matter what misunderstanding you have against me, I hope you’ll accept this small gesture for Arthur’s and Mia’s sake.” I turned and gave Sam a look. He carried the things inside, set them down, and silently retreated back into the hallway. Martha stood there without saying a word. Neither accepting nor refusing, she just watched with an unreadable expression. Mia timidly stepped forward and spoke softly. “Grandma, why won’t you come live with us? Mommy says Daddy went on a really long business trip and won’t be back for a long time. Can you stay at our house and wait for Daddy with us?” Martha’s eyes instantly softened. Her rough, calloused palm gently stroked Mia’s head, and the wrinkled edges of her eyes grew red. “Be a good girl, Mia. Grandma has something very important to do. For now, I can’t go home with you.” “Grandma, I miss Daddy. Do you miss Daddy too?” “Yes, Grandma… misses him very much too.” She looked calm and composed on the surface, but her trembling voice betrayed the emotions she was trying so hard to hide. I turned my head and whispered something to Sam. He immediately walked in and coaxed Mia to go downstairs with him first. Only Martha and I were left in the room. This cheap motel, wedged between towering skyscrapers, only had a sliver of daylight filtering through its broken window. The chaotic noise outside contrasted sharply with the silence in this cramped corner. “I’ve already filed a police report.” Martha watched me calmly and suddenly spoke. I was stunned for a moment, then let out a soft sigh by the dim doorway. “Regarding my status as a suspect, the police have already finished their investigation. I had no time to commit the crime, no method, and absolutely no motive. Arthur’s death brings me nothing but harm; why would I hurt him? Mom, I truly don’t understand why you’re so stubbornly convinced that I wanted my husband dead…” “So this is the reason you came today?” Martha’s voice was steady. “You’re curious how I, thousands of miles away, knew that you were the real murderer who killed Arthur, so you came to test the waters?” A sense of tragic powerlessness rose in my heart. I wanted to say something, but felt that whatever I said would be meaningless. “Since you’re so stubbornly convinced I’m the killer, let’s wait for the police to reach their conclusion.” I said desolately, turning to leave. As I took a few steps down the hallway, Martha’s heavy voice sounded behind me. “Actually, I wasn’t entirely certain at first.” “But you coming here today, bringing that young man with you. You’re trying to mislead me into thinking you two are having an affair, aren’t you? You want me to push the police to investigate in that direction so they end up hitting a dead end…” “Now, I am certain you are the murderer.” As the last word fell, the hallway plunged into sudden silence. I slowly turned around… In the cramped, dark hallway. I met her silent gaze. 06 I was called down to the police station for questioning. This was my first time inside a precinct. I was anxious and felt a bit helpless. When I took the water the officer handed me, my hand went limp, spilling half the cup onto his sleeve. “There’s no need to be so nervous. The victim’s mother filed a report, so we’re just conducting an investigation following standard procedure.” Two officers sat across from me, trying to calm me down. “We already have a good grasp of your basic movements that day. Now, we just have a few questions we need to confirm with you. Please answer truthfully.” I nodded silently. “First question: whose idea was it to start filling the bathtub early?” “Mine.” “Why?” After pausing for a few seconds, I spoke slowly. “Mia is a very active child, and she always works up a sweat when she plays. That bathtub fills slowly, taking over twenty minutes to even get half full. I was worried she might catch a cold, so I told Arthur to start the water early so she could take a bath right when we got home.” “Mhm. Second question: why didn’t you take your phone that day?” I murmured: “I don’t know what came over me that day. I usually never forget my phone, but that day I just forgot it on the shoe cabinet. I just forgot.” The two officers exchanged a glance and continued: “Over the summer, you almost always took your child downstairs around 10:00 AM, played at the slide for an hour, and went home at 11:00 AM. But that day, why were you ten minutes late?” My eyes grew red, my voice thick with emotion. “I went to a neighbor’s house. Honestly, I didn’t want to go, but I’m too polite. When someone insists, I feel bad saying no…” “Your husband died in his own bathroom. Why was your neighbor across the hall, Sam, also present at the primary crime scene?” “Sam?” I stared blankly, trying to recall for a long moment. “When I opened the door, Mia was still in the hallway talking to Sam. When I called for my husband and got no response, I went into the bathroom… The bathroom is directly across from the front door. I collapsed at the doorway and screamed. Sam immediately rushed in—” The older officer suddenly let out a cold laugh, sharply interrupting me: “Mrs. Sterling, from the last time Arthur was seen alive to the discovery of the scene of death, you have a perfect alibi for every single step. Don’t you think that’s a bit too coincidental?” I looked at him in shock, then lowered my head, burying my face tightly in my hands, sobs escaping through my fingers. “Yes, it’s all my fault! For those 20-plus minutes, my husband was slowly dying in lonely desperation, while I, taking my sweet time, wasted time at Lily’s mom’s house, wasted time coaxing Mia to go home, wasted time talking to neighbors in the hallway.” “I killed him!” “I am the murderer who killed my husband!” I shouted these sentences, my voice trembling. Grief, pain, panic, self-blame—a cocktail of intense emotions surged wildly through my already exhausted body like a tidal wave. I finally couldn’t hold on any longer. And fainted. … When I woke up, I found myself lying in a small infirmary. The wind had picked up outside at some point. The wind blew the window open, carrying faint, low whispers from the hallway into the room. “Do you think she’s hiding something?” “Hard to say. Her alibi is full of coincidences, but every step is also a completely logical event in her daily life. We asked around during the previous investigation. Lily’s mom confirmed that inviting her over was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and running into the neighbor was just a chance encounter while he was taking out the trash. Moreover…” “Moreover what?” “When others are suspected, they try their hardest to clear their names. But she’s doing the exact opposite, pulling all the blame onto herself. Even things that could be explained clearly, she leaves ambiguous. This kind of behavior means she’s either truly lost her mind from the trauma, or she’s a criminal mastermind with an exceptional psychological profile.” “An ordinary housewife, who was so nervous she couldn’t even hold a cup of water steady when she walked in, who loses control of her emotions with just a little push… could she be?” “I don’t know. But even if she is, there’s a key element we can’t explain.” “What key element?” “The method.” “Yeah. Even if she’s a one-in-a-million criminal mastermind who meticulously planned every detail, how could she guarantee Arthur would definitely slip when opening the window? And even if he slipped, how could she guarantee he’d conveniently be knocked unconscious—” “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. My daughter is home alone. May I leave now?” The two officers whipped their heads around, looking in surprise at me standing behind them. I kept my eyes lowered, my face pale, so weak I could barely stand. The older officer coughed. “If you’re feeling okay, the questioning is concluded for today.” “Thank you.” I murmured my thanks and left. After taking two steps, I turned back and looked at the two men, speaking slowly. “Officers, I don’t know what my mother-in-law did to make you reopen the investigation. But for the sake of my child and I being able to live in peace, I think I should make things clear.” “I don’t understand the ‘alibis’ or ‘methods’ you were just talking about. But I know that to do something, you need a motive. I had absolutely no reason to murder my husband. I’m sure you’ve investigated that thoroughly.” “Thank you for your hard work regarding my husband’s case.” I bowed to them, turned, and left. As I slowly walked out of the precinct courtyard, the two men stood smoking in the hallway. “What did you just say? You said we intentionally let her overhear our conversation, which was psychological pressure. That the perpetrator, seeing the police confused by their own actions, would subconsciously show their true reaction when alone. Then we would show the footage of her to a micro-expression expert… But just now, she, well, proactively walked over. So what does that mean?” The older officer silently took a drag of his cigarette and spat. “It means we wasted our time!” 07 I went to the police station in the morning, and by the time I got home, it was already dark. Dragging my exhausted, weak body, I knocked on Sam’s door. He’s a freelance illustrator who usually stays at home. I had left Mia with him today. When Mia came home carrying an armful of toys, he suddenly whispered, “Mia’s grandmother started a livestream.” I narrowed my eyes. “What?” “The day before yesterday, when I was waiting downstairs at the motel with Mia for you, I heard a hotel worker complaining that a rural old lady was driving her crazy asking how to start a livestream. I kept an eye out and searched online these past two days. Sure enough, I found it. Look, this is the stream. Even though there aren’t many viewers, she’s been streaming all day.” After turning on the TV for Mia and seeing she was completely engrossed in cartoons, I silently went into my room. Leaning against the headboard, I closed my eyes and meditated for a moment. Then I took out my phone and found the livestream titled “The Truth Will Never Be Buried.” Martha sat formally in front of the camera. She was still wearing that somewhat dated light-wool coat, with the motel’s peeling white walls behind her. There were a few sparse comments in the chat. [Is she using the ‘old person’ filter? Looks pretty good.] [This is real! This old lady’s son died, she suspects her daughter-in-law killed him, and she’s looking for help online!] [I get it. Another case of a kid dying, and they immediately go online to stir up public opinion for sympathy without knowing the facts. At the end of the day, if it’s for clout, it’s just for money!] Martha’s eyes, etched with the marks of time, shifted slightly, and she suddenly spoke. “I don’t want money. I’m an elementary school teacher, making $2,280 a month.” [Yeah, yeah, you don’t want money. If you don’t want money, go to the police. What truth are you looking for online?] [Let me break it down: I live in the complex where it happened. This was actually just a tragic accident. The son and daughter-in-law had a great relationship. They’re the same couple who got into that car crash and explosion near the Outer Ring Bridge six months ago.] [Ah, I know that one! That news was huge at the time. Everyone was moved by their ’till death do us part’ love story. I even cried!] [I remember too! The husband didn’t even care about his own life to save his wife. And the wife turns around and kills the husband? I wouldn’t believe it even if you beat me to death!] [Old lady, you should really go see a doctor. You can’t just accuse people based on your delusions.] Martha stared at the screen and spoke calmly: “I am not delusional. I have already gone to the police.” “I’m livestreaming, not for money, not to snatch my grandchild, and certainly not for clout. I just want to seek the truth for my child.” “My son, Arthur, was smart, cheerful, and polite from a young age. He was a gifted child. Everyone who knew him liked him; everyone praised him! Once, I sprained my ankle outside, and he gritted his teeth and carried me on his back for miles to get home. He was only eleven then, skinny and small, his head barely reaching my shoulder.” “When he was fourteen, he excitedly held up his high school entrance exam results to share the good news with me, but that day, because I was divorcing his father, I had to leave that home.” “Later, I would often dream of him as he was that day. Carefully tugging at my clothes, looking helpless and terrified, calling out over and over for Mommy not to leave.” Tears streamed from her eyes, slowly rolling down her deeply lined face. “A week ago, my son Arthur died. At the prime age of 35, he drowned in his own bathtub.” “Everyone tells me it was an accident, but I know it wasn’t. He was murdered.” “Back then, I resolutely shook off his hand, and now I’ve come back for him. Although I am a mother with no power, no connections, and no skills, since I am here, I absolutely will not let my son die alone and in obscurity.” Her voice was old and tired, but her eyes were piercingly clear. The gentleness and resilience of a mother intertwined, merged, and extended from her… The livestream went silent for a moment. Then the comments flooded in. [I believe this isn’t acting. I don’t believe any actor could perform this authentically.] [Ma’am, we’ll help you!] [I just screen-recorded this. I’ll make clips and share them so more people can see. Maybe someone can provide some information.] I stared intently at the screen. At Martha on the screen.

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The System held up an unlimited black card, pointing at the miserable second male lead who was currently getting drenched in the pouring rain. “The male and female leads are already together. All that’s left is the second male lead, who couldn’t get the girl. He’s fallen into the mud, and nobody cares about him.” “Your mission is to use this money to help him make a comeback. You are his light in the darkness.” The System spat everywhere as it enthusiastically explained the plot. I knew the story. After the second male lead struck it rich, he would resent me. He would feel that my money had humiliated him during his lowest point, and he would take extreme revenge on me. Only after I died would he suddenly come to his senses and realize he had been in love with me all along. He would become an alcoholic. He would kneel before my fresh grave, weeping every night to express his grief. Hearing this pitch-black script, I was so moved that tears welled up in my eyes. With lightning speed, I snatched the black card right out of the System’s hands. I slammed on the gas pedal, my car speeding past the depressed second male lead by the curb, splashing a massive puddle of dirty rainwater all over his clothes. Then, I headed straight for the nearest luxury mall. I swiped the card for thirteen designer bags and eight chunky gold bracelets. Clinking and clanking under the weight of the jewelry, I stuffed the trunk full. “I’ve been dirt-poor for twenty-four years, and I suddenly transmigrated into a billionaire.” “I need the salvation of this black card way more than he does.” 01 The trunk of the car was packed to the brim. I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead and slammed the trunk shut with a satisfying thud. The System was panicking, shouting in my head: “Host! You were brought to this world to redeem the second male lead! If you don’t complete the mission, you will be punished!” I agilely dropped to the ground and slid right under the car tire. “The punishment is being wiped out of existence, right?” “Stop nagging. Hack the car and run me over right now!” The System roared with imposing fury: “It’s a fate worse than death! If you don’t complete the mission, you will be trapped in this world forever!” The air froze for a split second. I quickly propped myself up and scrambled out from under the tire. The heavy stack of gold bracelets on my arm clinked musically against each other. My voice trembled with sheer excitement: “Are you saying… the penalty for failing the mission is that I get to stay in this world forever as the daughter of the city’s richest tycoon? I wake up every day with endless money? I’m the top VIP at every luxury boutique? I can buy as many bags as I want?” The System was speechless. Then, it tried a softer, more persuasive tone: “Host, think about your parents. If you don’t go back, how will they survive?” I boldly patted my chest. “Don’t worry about them. I’m the one who turned on the gas valve and flicked the lighter. I sent the whole family packing together.” “Before I transmigrated, they tried to sell me to a fifty-year-old creep for a fifty-thousand-dollar bride price. I got into a massive brawl with the whole family, and finally, I turned on the gas to take us all down together.” The System made one last, desperate struggle: “Before you transmigrated, what was your name?” “Penny. Because that’s all I was worth to them.” Silence fell. Smug and satisfied, I drove my haul of luxury goods home. Passing by the same intersection, I once again saw the miserable second male lead, Caleb Vance. He looked impatient and anxious. He was standing miserably under an awning to dodge the rain, holding his phone, stubbornly dialing a number over and over again. I cast a sideways glance at my phone sitting on the passenger seat, set to silent. The screen had lit up and gone dark countless times. Finally, the last call automatically hung up, and the screen stayed frozen on Instagram. Underneath a long block of text and a received money transfer notification, was the last message Caleb had sent me earlier that day: [Stop using your money to trample on my dignity. Every time you do this, it just makes me feel sick.] 02 I never felt that having money thrown at me was a humiliation. Before I transmigrated, I got accepted into a state college. But my biased parents pointed right at my nose and cursed at me: “What does a girl need college for? Go find a job at the local factory to help support the family. When you’re old enough, get married and bring in a dowry. Then we won’t have wasted all this money raising you.” Carrying a cheap duffel bag, I left those two hideous faces behind and took the train to college alone. Student loans paid for my tuition, but I didn’t have a single penny to my name. Luckily, I shared a dorm with a hot-tempered rich girl. The rhinestones glued to her acrylic nails alone were worth a month of my living expenses. I became her personal runner. Every day, I eagerly fetched her water, picked up her Amazon packages, and bought her food. I even happily accepted the expensive makeup and clothes she casually tossed out. Everyone criticized me for having no spine. They called me a lapdog, saying I’d throw away my dignity for a few bucks. But I had done the math very clearly. Buying her lunch earned me a solid twenty-dollar tip. Running downstairs for a package or coffee was at least ten. The out-of-season clothes she tossed me were all designer brands. The soft, tailored feeling of those clothes on my skin was something the frayed, cheap rags in my closet could never compare to. When a starving person is handed a bowl of white rice, their first reaction should be gratitude as they wolf it down. Not staring at the grains, screaming that the rice isn’t organic. Thanks to her, I smoothly finished my four years of college and even saved up a few thousand dollars. But Caleb Vance was different. Every time I transferred him money, he silently and swiftly accepted it. Then, he would bristle like a porcupine, screaming about his grievances to protect his fragile, crumbling ego. He couldn’t bear to part with the money, but he wanted people to kneel when they handed it to him. He was a gold digger playing the martyr. The heavy rain poured relentlessly, washing away the summer heat. I drove back to the mansion and struggled to drag the shopping bags inside. A mountain of subtly luxurious boxes sat in the middle of the living room, taking up half the space. Stepping closer, I could smell the elegant, rich leather of the bags. The smell of money. It was truly a mood-booster. Seeing me hopelessly intoxicated by the bags, the System couldn’t help but speak up: “Host, have some pity on the second male lead and redeem him. Because of his unrequited love, he’s actually developed depression.” I practically crawled on the floor with dark energy: “I was poor for twenty-four years! My depression is way worse than his!” “If you nag me one more time, my depression is going to turn into bipolar disorder tonight!” The System smartly shut up. Martha, the housekeeper, walked out of the kitchen. She glanced behind me, and seeing no sign of Caleb, her face darkened with displeasure. “Miss Aurelia, didn’t you drive out to pick up Mr. Vance?” “It’s pouring out there. You came back all by yourself. What is Mr. Vance supposed to do?” 03 I raised my cold eyes to look at her. Martha’s resentment was plain as day, as if Mr. Vance was the actual master of this mansion. And I was just a temporary guest. Caleb Vance was the famous brooding campus heartthrob. With his dark, handsome face and his faded plaid shirts, standing in the dappled sunlight beneath the trees, he had completely mesmerized the original owner of this body. In college, the gap between their social classes wasn’t so obvious. But once they entered the real world, they both returned to their respective tiers. Without a background, he hit wall after wall, his career going absolutely nowhere. To make matters worse, his secret crush, the female lead, was passionately involved with the male lead. It left Caleb completely disheartened, walking around like a zombie. I had brought him into the mansion, cleaning out the best guest room on the second floor for him to live in. By now, Caleb had been living here for over a year. In that year, he was gentle and kind to absolutely everyone in the house. Martha once shattered an incredibly expensive porcelain vase. Following the contract, I suggested deducting the damages from her salary. Caleb stood to the side and said coldly: “Have some mercy. It’s just a few porcelain bowls. Do you really need to be this ruthless?” “When are you going to drop this habit of using money to humiliate people?” Those words nailed me to a pillar of shame, making me look like some unforgivably wicked, spoiled heiress. He gave his gentleness to everyone else, leaving only distance and coldness for me. The System was truly ridiculous. It wanted me to redeem a man who had just tripped over his own feet in the game of love. Compared to him, the one who needed redemption was my own battered, traumatized soul. Wasn’t it? “Mr. Vance?” I let out a cold laugh. “Since when did this house get a ‘Mister’? Martha, who exactly signs your paychecks? Have you forgotten?” Martha froze, opening her mouth to argue. The front door clicked open. Dripping wet, Caleb scanned his fingerprint and stepped inside. And hiding behind him was a frail, pale-faced girl. The female lead. 04 He actually brought the female lead back to my house. The System helpfully explained: “The male and female leads had a fight. The devoted second male lead thought his chance had finally come, so he couldn’t wait to bring her back here.” On campus, the main couple’s romance had been explosive, teased by everyone as the ultimate fairytale between a CEO-in-training and a poor, innocent flower. But in the real world, the script turned into an ambitious girl accused of gold-digging, and a pragmatic heir who needed a strategically useful wife. Their love couldn’t withstand the slightest storm. The one at the top wouldn’t bend down to compromise. The one at the bottom demanded equal standing. After a massive blowout, the female lead stormed off and went looking for her backup plan: the second male lead. Overjoyed, Caleb thought his years of devoted pining had finally paid off. He rushed out into the pouring rain, desperate to bring her home. And because I was supposed to be worried about him, I was expected to humbly drive out and welcome the return of him and his true love. Caleb frowned at me: “Aurelia, why didn’t you answer your phone?” “Do you know I waited for half the day for you to pick us up? Chloe almost caught a cold because of you.” Ah, right. My new name was Aurelia Sterling. Golden, treasured, shining. A hundred times better than Penny. I had chewed on that name countless times in my mouth. I loved it. Martha, full of concern, quickly rushed over with two dry towels. She turned and joined the scolding: “Exactly, Miss Aurelia. How could you just come back alone? And look at all this useless stuff you bought.” Caleb looked at the designer bags scattered across the floor. His face turned incredibly dark. “Aurelia, you have to stop throwing these rich-girl tantrums. You think you’re so great just because you have money? Who are you destroying all this cash to impress?” “Why can’t you fix these disgusting habits of yours?” Every time I spent money, Caleb would scowl and reprimand me. As if. As if I was spending money from his bank account. To get closer to him, and to protect his fragile, easily-shattered ego, the original Aurelia hadn’t bought new clothes or eaten at high-end restaurants in ages. Even so, Caleb constantly had a black look on his face, dissatisfied with how freely she spent. I frowned back at him. “I’m spending my own money. What does it have to do with you?” “Or have you lived here so long, acting like a parasite, that you genuinely think everything here belongs to you?” 05 All the color drained from Caleb’s face. The words were brutally sharp, carving out his precarious ego and throwing it on the floor to be stomped on. In the past, I would have catered to his pride. I would rehearse every single sentence in my head before speaking, terrified of upsetting him. His self-esteem was sensitive and fragile. It required careful pampering, and massive amounts of cash to water it. Martha tried to speak up to defend Caleb, but I waved my hand, cutting her off: “Martha, you’re fired. Pack your things and get out right now.” “Also, the cost of that porcelain vase you broke will be deducted from your final paycheck this month.” Martha shrieked: “Miss Aurelia, you can’t fire me! I didn’t even do anything wrong!” Caleb rubbed his temples, expressing his deep disappointment in me. “Aurelia, you have never been poor, so you have no idea that this look of yours—using your money to pressure people—is truly, deeply ugly!” He was wrong. I had been poor. To the absolute bone. So poor I couldn’t afford a single pen or a single meal. So poor I dug through trash cans for food. I scavenged stale bread that others threw away and stuffed it desperately into my mouth just to survive high school. So poor that when my rich college roommate tossed me that first twenty-dollar bill, I clutched the green paper and tossed and turned, so excited I didn’t sleep all night. But I knew that poor people weren’t like him. They didn’t take someone’s money and then turn around, bite the hand that fed them, and insult their benefactor. “Fine then.” I looked him dead in the eyes. “Martha can stay. From now on, Mr. Vance will pay her salary.” Whatever words Caleb had left instantly choked in his throat. He pressed his lips together and didn’t make a sound. He couldn’t bear to part with his own money. Even though I had transferred him so much, aside from buying suits to keep up appearances, he spent it all on gifts for the female lead. He had never given me so much as a cheap trinket to show any gratitude. As the estate manager dragged a crying, pleading Martha away, Chloe bit her lip. She first cast a deeply envious glance at the floor covered in luxury bags. Then, she reached out and tugged on Caleb’s sleeve, looking innocent and uneasy: “Caleb, Aurelia is just jealous that you brought me back.” “Maybe… maybe I should just leave.” 06 She hunched her shoulders, looking utterly lost, and turned to go. Caleb grabbed her wrist. “It’s too late, and it’s still pouring outside. Where are you going to go? What if you run a fever?” “Just stay here tonight. I’ll take you up to my room so you can take a hot shower.” Saying that, he actually tried to step around me, intending to lead Chloe to the second floor. Caleb lived in the largest, south-facing guest suite on the second floor. It had a walk-in closet, an en-suite bathroom, and maids cleaning it daily. I immediately spoke up: “Hold it right there!” Caleb looked back, incredibly annoyed: “Aurelia, I’m warning you to stop right now. I don’t have time to waste arguing with you.” “The person I love has always been Chloe. As for you, I’ve only ever seen you as an older sister.” I was exactly one month older than him. Technically an older sister. The System chimed in at exactly the wrong moment: “Host, why don’t you just treat him like your real younger brother? Just redeem him a little bit, so I can finish my mission.” “Right, what did your real younger brother say to you the most in your past life?” What did he say? I suddenly visualized my brother, Hunter, violently grabbing my hair, his chubby face magnified in my vision. I mimicked his tone and spoke aloud: “Other guys’ sisters get married off so the family can use the dowry to pay for the brother! Why won’t you get married?!” “If you don’t get married, where am I going to get the money to buy a house and a car?!” “I’ll beat you to death today!” The System fell silent again. My eyes were bloodshot. Caleb’s face slowly began to merge with Hunter’s. Hatred flooded my entire body. I grabbed the nearest heavy crystal vase and hurled it viciously right at him! My aim was slightly off. Along with Chloe’s piercing scream, the vase shattered at his feet, sending shards of crystal flying everywhere. Caleb stumbled backward in shock. Recovering a second later, he immediately shielded Chloe behind him, his face contorting in rage: “Are you crazy?!” “Apologize to Chloe right now, or I’m moving out of your house tonight!” 07 I laughed, a bright, manic sound. I pointed at the wide-open front doors: “Great. Then get the hell out. And remember to pay back the year’s worth of rent, plus every single cent I’ve ever transferred you.” The storm raged outside. Caleb’s face flickered in the flashes of lightning, his hands clenched tightly into fists. He didn’t hide the hatred on his face at all. What did he hate me for? Hated that I gave him money? Hated that I helped him start a business? Hated that I used my own network to pave his way? After a long pause, I heard Caleb squeeze out through gritted teeth: “Aurelia Sterling, think this through carefully. If I walk out those doors today, I will absolutely never come back!” “Playing hard to get has never worked on me.” I spoke slowly and methodically: “Why would I want a parasite like you to come back?” The color drained from his face entirely. Before today, I had never spoken to him so harshly. Chloe couldn’t help but speak up for him: “Aurelia, how can you use your money to insult someone like this?” “Caleb is going to be successful! He’s just as good as anyone else!” Of course Caleb was going to be successful. In the book, I exhausted all my resources to help him build his company, and cashed in every favor my family had to clear his path. On a road paved that smoothly, of course he walked without hurdles, easily amassing a billion-dollar net worth. But right now, he didn’t have my help. Caleb was dead broke. All he had left was his unyielding, stubborn pride. Was a girl like Chloe, who dreamed of marrying into high society, really going to stick around a backup plan like him? Caleb grabbed Chloe’s hand and walked out of the mansion. They walked agonizingly slowly. As if waiting for someone to lower themselves and beg them to stay. It wasn’t until they were standing outside, and the heavy iron gates slammed shut behind them with a massive clang. Caleb, still trapped in the delusion that I would regret this, was violently struck by reality. Shock washed over his face as he stood in the rain, completely at a loss. Inside the mansion, the System carefully watched my blood-red eyes, tentatively trying to negotiate: “How about… you hire a psychiatrist to take a look?” “Right now, compared to the devoted second male lead, you look like the paranoid villain…”

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I raised a wolfman. Because he talked back to me to defend my illegitimate half-sister, I coldly whipped his body 88 times. The live comments floating in my vision exploded to 99+. [Oh my god! Is this toxic bitch crazy with jealousy! She’s actually trying to beat him to death!] [What’s the difference between this and treating the male lead like a dog! This is fucking abuse! No wonder he chose to save the illegitimate sister over you!] [If it weren’t for her heavy-handed threats and manipulation, the male lead would have stopped wanting to stay by her side a long time ago!] Me? Threaten? Threaten a disloyal dog? I remained silent for a long time. Then, I let out a sneer and ordered my staff to throw all his belongings out. I turned around and immediately went to the underground beast arena to pick out a new young wolf. Half a month later, he got the news. He rushed over in the pouring rain from my half-sister’s place, gripped my arm tightly, his eyes red as he asked with a trembling voice: “Did you really get a new beastman?” 01 I carried that blood-soaked young wolf into the mansion. The villa was dead silent. No one expected that just a day after I laid down the law, I would actually bring a new beastman home. The butler, catching a vase he almost dropped from his trembling hands, braced himself and asked where to put him. I shot him a sideways glance and retorted, “Where do you think?” A beastman needs to be personally trained, so his room had to be right next to mine. He hesitantly asked, “Then what about the things in that room…” I spoke coldly: “Throw them away.” Now, everyone knows. The beastman I raised for ten years talked back to me for the sake of an illegitimate daughter. When we both fell into the water, he didn’t hesitate to swim in her direction instead of mine. Last night, suppressing my fury, I whipped him eighty-eight times. But even when the whip was soaked in blood, he kept his jaw clenched and didn’t make a sound. I was drenched, my palms burning from the exertion. It wasn’t until the final, brutal lash fell that he spat out a mouthful of blood. I scolded him sharply: “Speak!” He finally looked up, his eyes devoid of emotion: “Say what? What does the Heiress want to hear?” Knowing I was furious, he deliberately used rhetorical questions to further provoke me: “My life was bought by you, my bones were shattered and reset by you, and my rules were carved into my flesh by you. What? Now that the wolfman you trained with your own hands isn’t listening to you, do you feel like you’ve lost face?” I found it ridiculous. He knew I trained him, yet when we fell into the water, he chose to save that innocent little flower who was fighting me for the family inheritance. The boundless night in the distance was as thick as ink. He twitched the corner of his mouth: “Anyway, the Heiress has plenty of people who care about her. You won’t miss just one me.” “Won’t miss you?” I felt like I had just heard a joke. “Six, don’t forget why I kept you.” His gaze was mocking, his posture proud and cold: “I can’t guess the Heiress’s thoughts.” “I only know that the Heiress sits high and mighty, surrounded by admirers. When you were in the water, countless hands reached out to you from the shore, but her back was completely empty.” “Maybe the Heiress has never experienced the feeling of grasping at straws when you’re about to drown—but I have. In that scenario, only I noticed her.” The chill of the evening wind seeped into my bones. I curled my lips in a sarcastic smile: “And so?” His gaze was freezing, his words crisp and clear: “She only has me.” Only you??? The absurdity expanded in my eyes. In a staring contest that lasted a full thirty seconds, he didn’t retreat a single inch. I sneered and ground my teeth. “You want to be her dog?” “If I must.” “I’ll deliver you myself.” A wolfman’s blood and pride would never allow such an insult as being called a dog. But I was going to humiliate him exactly like this. I drove through the night and dropped him off at Chloe Evans’s rental apartment. When I kicked him out of the car, he only frowned slightly. Then, enduring the bleeding wounds on his back, he slowly stood up and limped toward the lit villa. His back was proud, isolated, and cold—absolutely refusing to bow his head. 02 They say once bitten, twice shy. No one thought I would raise another young wolf. At first, the boss of the underground beast arena recommended a large batch of different types of beastmen to me. But after looking around again and again, none of them caught my eye. Feeling annoyed, I prepared to leave. Just as I turned the corner, about to step out of the corridor. A bloodstained hand reached out from a cage in the corner and grabbed my boot. I turned my head and looked down. I had seen too many beasts on the verge of death. Most would be hysterical, numb and crazy, or humbly begging for mercy. But unexpectedly. In the filthy blood and cold shadows. I saw a pair of stubborn, bright, dark eyes. He said he was willing to be my dog. As long as I gave him a bite to eat. I glanced at the tag on the cage—Defective Product. The boss, who had been chattering away next to me, saw this and immediately broke out in a cold sweat. I raised my wrist, blocking the boss’s attempt to intervene. I took off my black leather glove and slowly squatted down. In the underground fight club, perpetually smelling of rust and rot. A single beam of light happened to hit my fingertips. I lifted his chin, examining him closely. If he had witnessed my entire selection process just now, he should know how strict my requirements were. And he was barely clinging to life, lingering on the edge of death. The heartbeat in his chest became exceptionally anxious at this moment. He could hear his own breathing. The three minutes of scrutiny felt as long as a century. Yet he didn’t see any emotion on my cold face. Just as his dark eyes gradually began to dim. I suddenly raised an eyebrow: “Willing to come with me?” His drooping wolf ears instantly perked up. He wagged his wolf tail desperately like a dog, his pupils burning hot like a lit flame. He rubbed against my wrist, eagerly repeating over and over—willing. Willing to come with me, willing to be my dog, willing to be loyal to me for a lifetime, never betraying me. Good. That’s what I like to hear. I looked at the terrified boss next to me and said flatly: “I’ll take him.” 03 I didn’t actually plan to keep this little wolf. After all, he was just a defective product. It was unlikely he could withstand my long and grueling training regimen. When his injuries were mostly healed. I told him, “You can leave now.” He was stunned for a long while before asking, “Why?” Emotions seemed to surge in his wet, dark eyes as he stared at me unblinking. I casually flipped the page of my newspaper: “No reason. Just consider it my good deed for the day.” The butler stepped forward to pull him away, lowering his voice: “Sigh, our Heiress only wants the strongest and most loyal beastmen. Just give it up. Your predecessor was sent away overnight for disloyalty. He followed our Heiress for ten years, and she didn’t even flinch…” The butler was still rambling when the space beside him suddenly became empty. The young beastman had returned. With a slightly hoarse voice, still carrying lingering pants, he asked: “Can I have a chance to do better than him?” I rarely lifted my eyelids: “In what aspect?” He clenched his fingers, saying word by word, earnestly: “In every aspect.” Whether it was strength or loyalty. He would do better than the predecessor the butler mentioned. I put down the newspaper and observed him with interest. In the spacious and bright living room. He waited nervously and anxiously for my verdict. When I brought him home that day, I didn’t pay much attention to his appearance. Now that he was washed clean, I realized every part of him looked highly aggressive. High brow bone, sharp eyes. But this ferocity was weakened by his currently wet eyelashes. The stubborn and bright dark eyes were exactly the same as that day. —This was also the reason I brought him back. After a long stare-down, I finally spoke: “You may.” “As long as you can endure it.” 04 My training has always been known for its cruelty. The previously adopted Zero One, Two, Three, Four, and Five all failed to survive this period. And he is the seventh. Names have always been just codenames to me. Aside from bearing my last name, the name Sterling Seven had nothing special about it. But he still nodded very seriously. I didn’t intend to ramp up the intensity so quickly. But his potential far exceeded my expectations. In just one week, he completed all the basic training and proactively asked to increase the difficulty. It even made me doubt if the “defective product” tag was a mistake. At sunset, he had just completed a 200-pound weighted mountain run. The muscles in his calves were twitching uncontrollably. He could only press his hands against his knees for support, forcing his body not to collapse. Sixty miles, six hours, maintaining shooting accuracy while his muscles were tearing. He achieved it on his third try. I rested one hand on the window of the SUV, speaking absentmindedly on the phone, while my eyes stayed fixed on his back. Suddenly, as if sensing something, he turned around. Our eyes met from a distance. Against the light of the setting sun, he ran down the hillside towards me. The damp black hair on his forehead was blown by the mountain wind. The distance closed until I could see his flushed neck, and the beads of sweat threatening to fall from his throat. The phone call was from my father, telling me to attend a banquet. He said that as long as I bowed my head, he would let bygones be bygones regarding my actions against his illegitimate daughter. Hilarious. A man so ruthless in his youth actually playing the family card in his old age. I replied lazily and hung up. “Young Lady.” He tried hard to calm his breathing, coming to a stop in front of me. Looking at his violently heaving chest, I suddenly realized that every evening, he would run to me panting like this. Even today, when his body was pushed to the absolute limit. I scolded him lightly, neither warmly nor coldly: “Why run so fast?” “I was afraid you’d get bored waiting too long.” My hand, which was inserting the key, paused. I glanced at him and said flatly: “Get in.” “I came specifically to pick you up, what’s there to be bored about.” After buckling his seatbelt. He turned his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing gently, and finally spat out the sentence he had been brewing for a long time: “It only took six hours today.” “Hmm.” “And I didn’t miss any shots.” “Hmm.” He didn’t need to report to me personally. These data points had already been recorded by specialists. Whether in physical fitness or reaction speed, he was indeed at the very top. You should know, the best record of Six back then was seven hours and three minutes. And he completely broke it in just one week. The live comments were arguing fiercely at this moment— [No way, could a beastman be stronger than the protagonist group??!! Who is this? Did he bump into our wolfman male lead’s character design?? Can someone control this!!] [Why the rush? Did everyone forget this is an NP (reverse harem) novel? It’s normal for stronger beastmen to appear! What’s there to be shocked about? Anyway, they will all eventually bow down to our precious female lead’s skirt.] [Exactly, who wouldn’t like our gentle, healing, sweet little cupcake female lead! When the little wolf finds out the true colors of the toxic bitch, he will definitely throw himself into our female lead’s arms.] [Ugh, I really hope this scene is with our female lead. The little wolf obviously wants to be praised!! Working so hard, finally mustering the courage to ask for praise, and only getting a few cold ‘hmms’! My heart aches for him!!] I have now learned to turn a blind eye to these brain-dead comments. Only the last sentence that floated by made me think for a rare moment. Asking for praise? 05 The car entered the city, and the evening glow covered the congested traffic on the overpass. I couldn’t help but glance at the person in the passenger seat from the corner of my eye. His ears seemed to droop a bit, and his lips were pursed. He lowered his eyelids, staring at the bloodstains on his body, lost in thought. I rehearsed a few times in my head before finally calling out to him. The young beastman looked up, his thick eyelashes trembling slightly, half of his body drowned in the setting sun, unexpectedly softening the murderous aura around him. Damn it, the words were on the tip of my tongue, but I still couldn’t say them. I hesitated, wanting to speak but stopping. “Take tomorrow off,” I gripped the steering wheel and finally spoke flatly. Although I didn’t praise him, at least I showed some care. He shouldn’t be disappointed anymore, right? But after a brief moment of surprise, he told me: “I’m fine, I can continue training.” I turned my head, my gaze shifting to his bloodstained calves. Doesn’t need to rest? I frowned slightly. The comments answered my confusion— [He thinks he didn’t do well enough today, didn’t meet his master’s expectations. Poor little wolf, female lead, please appear! The evil villain is tormenting him to the point of losing his confidence!] [Sigh, because he’s afraid of being abandoned for not being good enough, he desperately wants to prove himself. Unfortunately, he met a ruthless evil villain. If it were the female lead, she would have started showering him with praises long ago.] [To the person above, I think we should look at this objectively. Our precious female lead has a lot of love, so she can share it with others. But for an unloved child like the villainess, it’s very hard for her to learn how to love someone else when she grows up. I think I can understand her.] [Speaking up for a toxic bitch like this?? I don’t think so. Her twisted personality is her own problem, what did our little wolf do to deserve this?] The arguments in the comments became more intense. I ignored them, my gaze fixed on Seven’s face. The afterglow of the sunset fell on half of his face, making the bloodstains on his neck look bewitching. The evening glow in the sky spread inch by inch, like splashed colored ink, so gorgeous it almost made one lose themselves in it. The prolonged stare made every knuckle of his curl and tighten, and the heartbeat in his chest grew more violent with each beat. He couldn’t withstand such a scrutinizing gaze. His earlobes became scalding hot, and his eyes involuntarily lowered. Just as he awkwardly tried to turn around to completely avoid my gaze. I suddenly spoke: “You did great today.” He froze as he turned around. I added an explanation: “So, you can take tomorrow off as a reward.” The congested traffic on the overpass finally started to move. It’s not that people who haven’t been loved don’t know how to love people, but I don’t mind learning a little more. Especially towards this young wolf pup that I am personally raising. 06 The banquet a week later. I arrived as promised. This was the day my father officially introduced and acknowledged his illegitimate daughter. The girl, wearing a cumbersome and expensive gown, stood timidly under the brilliant spotlights, receiving everyone’s attention. And Six, with a haughty expression, stood behind her in the posture of a protector. Our eyes met from a distance. His eyes were cold. I looked away and met the innocent yet subtly provocative gaze next to him. Her eyes seemed to say: Look, the wolfman, my father, everyone is standing by my side. The comments were cheering— [Sure enough, after escaping that toxic bitch, his whole mental state is different. If it weren’t for our gentle, healing female lead, I can’t even imagine how pitiful the male lead would be!] [The toxic bitch must be furious, right?? Long live the new couple! No one is allowed to tear them apart!] [Look at her expression, she’s probably on the verge of turning completely evil hahaha.] I let out a scoff. Thank you, but I went rogue a long time ago—to the point where everyone fears me. Especially my father. In his eyes, I am ruthless, cold-blooded, the kind of bad seed who would probably scatter his ashes to the wind. Even more fatal is that I discovered the existence of Chloe and his other illegitimate children long before he did. This is the key evidence of his infidelity. Seeing his “devoted husband” persona on the verge of collapse, he had to do emergency PR, bringing back the most naive and obedient Chloe. Claiming it was a mistake of his youth, that he felt guilty and wanted to make amends. Conveniently, this shifted the pressure onto me. If I showed obvious hostility towards Chloe in public, I would be criticized as “narrow-minded,” “inconsiderate of my father’s feelings,” and “unreasonable.” He thought I was too proud and arrogant, that after he provoked me over the phone, I definitely wouldn’t attend this banquet. But now, not only did I come. I could calmly stand in front of him and smile at the illegitimate daughter, calling her, “Sister.” Many guests below the stage were whispering. “Didn’t they say Richard Sterling loved his wife more than his life? For decades, it was just this one precious daughter. Where did this illegitimate daughter pop up from?” “Hmph, which rich man doesn’t have a few mistresses? Who knows how many are out there.” “Looks like the Sterling family’s eldest daughter is having a hard time. Giving up a beastman she raised for over ten years to an illegitimate daughter—she must be suffocating from anger.” An unfaithful dog, what is there to be suffocating about? I navigated the guests with ease, greeting, complimenting, and toasting. That silent, burning gaze crossed the crowd, following my every move. I ignored it completely. Not long after, a fierce storm suddenly whipped up outside. The gloomy sky was torn apart by lightning, thunder roaring. I turned back and happened to see the wolfman pull Chloe into his arms, gently and dutifully covering her ears: “Don’t be afraid.” Another clap of thunder sounded. I couldn’t help but think of the young wolf pup at home. His condition after training today was a bit off. He seemed… exceptionally agitated. After noticing my frown, Chloe finally pretended to notice me, and said cautiously: “Y-you were originally my sister’s beastman, you should go protect her.” The wolfman’s face was cold: “She doesn’t need me.” “But…” she mumbled, “Sister looks unhappy right now. It was my fault that caused her to abandon you. How about you go apologize to her now, and I’ll go apologize too? I really don’t want the two of you to…” He cut her off harshly: “It’s not your fault.” Two pairs of eyes simultaneously fell on me. I waited for their next sentence. The wolfman’s gaze was direct, mocking: “Anyway, the Heiress is high and mighty, whatever she does has her own reasoning. Since it’s her own choice, what else is there to say.” “It’s my fault. Six, it really looks like Sister is mad now, you should…” The two of them were putting on a whole act over there. The butler suddenly ran in, panting. A bad premonition rose in my heart: “What’s wrong?” “Seven has gone into heat! The doctor says he’s allergic to the suppressants. If he doesn’t get comforted, he might die! Young Lady, please come back quickly!” My face darkened instantly, and I turned to follow the butler out. Suddenly, my arm was grabbed hard. My footsteps were forced to a halt. I turned back coldly. The wolfman’s red-rimmed eyes stared fixedly at me, his voice trembling as he confirmed: “You got a new beastman?” Chloe stared at us nervously. I sneered and slapped him hard across the face: “Get back to your master!” That slap was light. His hand gripping my arm tightened, his nails almost digging into my flesh. “Avery Sterling, you clearly said you only wanted me as your beastman. Why?” His eyes were sore, staring at me almost stubbornly. “What gives you the right? How can you just casually find a new beastman!” I found it ironic: “Six, aren’t you the one doing this?” Who went looking for someone else first? He choked back a sob: “That night… you were the one who threw me away.” I suddenly smiled, articulating clearly word by word: “Did I not give you a choice?” After kicking him out that night, I waited on the spot for a minute. A sixty-second countdown. I gave him one last chance to admit his mistake. But his back was proud, absolutely refusing to look back. Even limping, he walked firmly toward Chloe’s rental apartment. My knuckles gripping the steering wheel turned white. After a long silence, I let out a sneer. Ten years of training, only to raise an obedient dog for someone else. It was utterly absurd. In the last three seconds. I coldly withdrew my gaze. The roar of the engine sounded in the night. In that split second when he slightly turned his head. I had already turned the steering wheel and sped away.

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After high school, homebody me chose a college two thousand miles away from home. My parents roared in anger, “Just because of a room?” Yes. As the only daughter of a middle-class family with three houses. I grew to the age of eighteen without ever having a room of my own. 1 At my eighteenth birthday party, I made a loud wish in front of all our relatives and friends. “I want a small room of my own.” The venue went quiet. My relatives looked at us in disbelief. “She doesn’t have her own room? A girl this big needs her privacy.” “She’s an only child! Even if they have a two-bedroom apartment, they could partition the living room to make a third bedroom.” I ignored my parents’ instantly darkening faces and smiled generously. “That’s right, I don’t have my own room.” My dad forced a strained smile. “She’s just joking. She’s our only daughter, and we have three houses. How could she not have a room?” My mom winked at me frantically. “Emma is just teasing us. Quick, make another wish.” I sighed inwardly and said solemnly, “Mom, Dad, I’m eighteen now. I really want my own independent space.” The room fell dead silent again. The relatives exchanged glances and looked at my parents with complex expressions. Both of my parents had comfortable government jobs. To the outside world, they were parents who spoiled their daughter rotten. How could they not have a room for their own flesh and blood? My grandma suddenly started crying. “It’s my fault. I took up my granddaughter’s room. I’m so old, I’ve just become a burden to my kids.” I felt a flash of guilt. Even though my grandma had always been distant with me, we had lived in the same room for over a decade. I wasn’t completely devoid of affection for her. My actions today were a bit extreme. While I was hesitating, a heavy slap landed on my face. My dad stood there, hand raised, panting heavily. “You ungrateful brat. You haven’t even achieved anything yet, and you’re already discarding your grandma.” My mom frantically tried to stop my dad, then checked my face with concern. “Emma, we can talk about this at home. Do you really think we wouldn’t agree to it?” I stood there, stunned. Actually, I had a room of my own for a short time. But when I was six, my grandpa passed away, and my grandma moved in with us from the countryside. We lived in a two-bedroom apartment. My parents had one room, and Grandma had to share the other with me. I wanted my own room and protested from the time I was six until today. But every time I brought it up, they just laughed it off. When they got annoyed, they would brush me off: “You and your grandma are both girls. What’s the big deal? Besides, if you don’t have enough space for your things, we can just install more shelves.” But I needed an independent space! A room that belonged only to me! Under the heavy academic pressure of high school, I needed a place to decompress. I wanted a room filled with things I loved, not my grandma’s supplements and drab, dusty clothes. Grandma snored in her sleep and ground her teeth. She woke up constantly during the night. I rarely got a good night’s sleep and would doze off during the day. During the three days of my SAT exams, my uncle finally took her away. 2 I thought everything was over and I could finally take a breather. Just as I was excitedly planning how to decorate my room and inviting classmates over to see it… Grandma was sent right back. Because my exams were over. My joy was for nothing. I had even humbly suggested to my parents before: I could set up a small partition by the bathroom, the kitchen, or the balcony. As long as it was a private space, even if it was cramped or smelled a little, I didn’t care. My mom had looked at me like I was a senseless child and scolded me: “You’re the apple of our eye! How could you sleep in a bathroom or kitchen? We’d be a laughingstock.” My dad had chuckled and patted my head: “Silly girl. If my colleagues found out that a respectable school administrator made his daughter sleep by the bathroom, they’d drown me in spit.” It was precisely because I knew protesting was useless that I decided to burn my bridges today. I hoped my parents would be swayed by the relatives’ gossip and finally get me a small room. More than that, I wanted to remind them that I was eighteen. An adult. Not a child anymore. I needed a physically private space. Was that really such a delusional demand? The restaurant was in an uproar. My dad glared at me with bloodshot eyes. It seemed that one slap wasn’t enough to vent his anger. My mom and a crowd of guests held him back, trying to persuade him. I couldn’t hear anything clearly. My face burned with pain. I covered my face and ran out of the restaurant. The evening breeze cleared my chaotic, sad mind a bit. The city lights glowed along the street, but my heart felt entirely empty. My cousin Brittany, who I had never been close with, sent me a text: [When we were little, I used to envy you. Both your parents have stable state jobs, unlike my parents who bust their asses at a street stand just to feed and clothe me.] It was true. Growing up, I had the newest dresses and went to the best tutoring centers. When it came to my education and lifestyle, my parents never seemed stingy. When peers complained about sharing snacks and toys with siblings, I used to feel lucky to be an only child—my parents’ one and only treasure. So, regarding not having my own room, I even consoled myself that my parents probably had their own considerations. After all, with their energy and finances, getting me a room would have been incredibly easy. I didn’t reply. Brittany’s messages continued: [But I stopped envying you a long time ago. Want to know why?] I turned off my phone, ignoring her attempt to kick me while I was down. I sat on a bridge, staring down at the murky river water in the dark. It was just as murky as my parents’ love for me. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but police sirens suddenly wailed in my ears. I was so deep in thought that I hadn’t realized a crowd had gathered on the other side of the bridge. My mom stood at the front of the crowd, screaming: “Emma! We actually decided to buy a new house a long time ago, we just hadn’t told you yet! Please come down, okay?” My dad’s eyes were red, and he was slapping his own face frantically: “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you! I acted on impulse!” I looked down at myself. I was sitting so close to the edge of the bridge that one slip of the leg and I would have fallen in. It was a huge misunderstanding. I apologized to the police and quickly got off the bridge. My parents hugged me tightly, treating me like a precious, lost treasure they had finally found. 3 “Emma, you are our most precious baby.” “Yes, we’ll go put a down payment on a new house tomorrow.” I didn’t explain. If I could really get my own room out of this, I’d let them misunderstand just this once. Aside from the room issue, they truly were impeccable parents in every other aspect. My parents took me out for another meal. It was a spicy hot pot place I loved. Neither of my parents could handle spice, but they watched me eat with gentle smiles. One poured my drink, the other wiped my mouth. We looked like the most loving family of three, and I was the absolute center of it. A group of girls at the next table looked at me with envy. At that moment, I was basking in my parents’ total, undivided love for their only daughter. Filled with a hard-won sense of satisfaction and a bit of competitiveness, I finally replied to Brittany: [My parents decided to buy a new house. Keep envying me.] Brittany didn’t reply for a long time. I thought I had won, and that she was ashamed of what she had said. I even regretted being so impulsive today and making my parents lose face. They clearly were already planning to buy a house; it wasn’t like they never considered me. Grandma was picked up by my uncle that night, but her clothes and daily necessities were still there. I knew she would continue living with us. But that was fine. I could endure it a little longer. After all, I had endured it for years, and dawn was just around the corner. I imagined myself in my little room for the first time. Binge-watching shows, drinking cola, and laughing out loud without a care in the world. I could throw my trash wherever I wanted, knowing I’d just clean it up the next morning. I could wear a tank top and prop my feet up on the desk without worrying about exposing myself. I could dig out the love notes from high school boys hidden at the bottom of my drawer and read them out loud without fear. When we went house hunting the next day, I was even more excited than my parents. They found a gated community that was perfect for retirement. It had great amenities and a quiet environment. But because it was a new development with reasonable prices and a great location, properties were selling out fast. By the time we looked, there were only a few three-bedroom and two-bedroom units left. There was one three-bedroom unit on a lower floor. The rooms were spacious. The only downside was the layout, which meant the natural light wasn’t great. I carefully watched my parents’ faces. When I saw no obvious signs of dissatisfaction, I let out a sigh of relief. I happily spun around in the smallest bedroom. I imagined my bed here, a large clothing rack for my favorite dresses, without having to worry about Grandma’s clothes mixing in and making it look out of place. I could display my collectibles on the shelves without worrying that Grandma’s failing eyesight would knock them over. The real estate agent held the contract: “Look how much she loves it! You guys should lock it down now.” My parents exchanged a glance and waved their hands. “We left in a hurry this morning and forgot our checkbook. We’ll come back to sign this afternoon.” 4 After looking at the house, a message popped up in my high school group chat. The college application portal was open. My dad smiled and asked, “Your grades are good enough for the top state university here. You could even come home on weekends.” My mom held my hand, “Yeah. You’ve never left my side your whole life. I really couldn’t bear to let you go.” I leaned into my mom’s embrace. “I’m a total mommy’s girl and daddy’s girl. I told you I’d never go to a college more than twenty miles away.” My parents looked at each other and laughed, sounding hearty and proud. I knew we were all completely content today. Any past grievances had vanished into thin air. After all, what parent and child hold grudges overnight? That evening, I was scrolling through my phone when I saw a new post from the real estate agent: [Another unit sold in Building 5! So happy.] My hand suddenly froze. Building 5 was all large two-bedroom units. The agent had explicitly pointed that out. When we were viewing the houses, the agent, likely wanting to build his network, had also asked for my Instagram. My parents had been whispering by the doorway discussing the floor plan at the time and hadn’t noticed. His post was from around 3 or 4 PM, right when my parents went back to pay the deposit. I had originally wanted to go with them, but my mom pinched my cheek: “Look how delicate your skin is. You shouldn’t be out in that harsh sun.” I had acted spoiled and asked them to bring me back some ice cream. Because she didn’t know which flavor I wanted, my mom had bought every single flavor available. I had even happily posted a picture on Instagram with the caption: [I love my mom and dad the most.] I steadied my racing heart: What if I misheard or misremembered? I messaged the agent to casually say hi. The agent was in a great mood and replied quickly. “Your dad picked a great master bedroom for you guys! You locals really know how to spoil your daughters. Even though it’s only a two-bedroom, it’ll be super comfortable for a family of three like yours.” My heart sank straight down. My mind went entirely blank. Brittany’s message came through right at that moment: [Years ago, your mom urged my mom to have another kid to get a son, and that’s when I stopped envying you.] [I’m a true only child. You’re just a ‘circumstantial’ only child. I’m not showing off, I just wanted you to see the truth. But clearly, you’re pretty dense.] It wasn’t like this. I shook my head desperately. What if Grandma wasn’t planning to live with us anymore? Maybe she had other plans? Clinging to that final shred of hope, I walked out of my room step by step. My parents were sitting on the couch, punching numbers into a calculator. “The money from selling this place will cover the balance for the new one.” “The new place is move-in ready, we won’t even need to buy furniture.” When they saw me, they immediately waved me over. “Emma, come help us with the math. You’re young and quick.” I tried to use my most normal, calmest voice to ask: “Is Grandma still going to live with us?” 5 My dad didn’t even look up as he answered casually: “Of course. I’m the eldest son. It’s my responsibility to take care of her.” My mom frowned slightly, but said nothing, continuing to calculate with her pen. Details I had previously ignored suddenly glared at me. My grandma had two sons. My mom used to complain about why Grandma didn’t go live with my uncle. My dad would say: “My nephew is a growing boy. It’s not convenient for him to share a space with my mom.” And my mom never brought it up again. My mom wasn’t the submissive type. She once threw a massive fit because my dad forgot to bring back a local souvenir from a business trip, forcing him to drive all the way back to buy it before she let it go. But ever since Grandma moved in, whenever my other uncle came over to ask for handouts, my dad just turned a blind eye. They rarely fought over their respective families anymore. They seemed to maintain a delicate balance between them. And I was the sacrificial bargaining chip to keep that peace. “Do I just not deserve my own room? Mom, Dad, it’s not like our family can’t afford it. Why does it always have to be me who compromises?” I could no longer suppress my grievances and yelled. After I yelled, my body shook, and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. Faced with my breakdown and fury, my parents remained unusually calm. My dad shook his head and sighed: “So you found out.” My mom grabbed a tissue to wipe my tears, scolding me gently: “Emma, why are you being so stubborn again? Once you go to college, you’ll barely be home anyway. Why waste an entire room? Let me tell you, that three-bedroom had terrible natural light. No sunlight is bad for your health.” “The two-bedroom unit is south-facing, and the layout is great. To be blunt, given your grandma’s age… when she passes, it’ll still just be your room.” My mom kept rambling, but I only caught one phrase. Why waste an entire room. “So in your hearts, because I’m a daughter who will eventually marry and leave, I’m an outsider. I don’t deserve a room, and keeping a room for me is a waste. If I were a boy, would you have given me my own room?” The room was dead silent. I finally understood Brittany’s words. Heh, ‘circumstantial only child’. How ironic. My identity as an only child, which I had been so proud of, was merely a product of their circumstances. Both my parents were tenured state employees; they couldn’t risk their careers by trying for a son. Even though I was their only daughter, they still harbored a “phantom son” in their hearts. 6 My parents finally put down the calculator and pen. My dad reacted first, carrying the embarrassment and anger of having his true thoughts exposed: “You ungrateful daughter! We raised you all these years just so you could interrogate us?” “Girls in poor areas don’t even get to go to school and have to marry early to pay off family debts. You’re sitting here being picky? We really spoiled you.” My dad was panting heavily after his outburst. My mom poured him some water while glaring at me reproachfully: “Emma, why are you digging yourself into a hole again?” “Mom, you pulled a lot of strings to get my cousin into that good school district, didn’t you? So your nephew could go to a top high school.” “Dad, I heard my other cousin is going to an expensive private college. Are you footing the bill for that astronomical tuition?” My parents’ faces showed a flash of unnatural guilt, which quickly morphed into anger. “Your uncle only has one son! His future is important!” “Your cousin is the only male heir to our family line. In the future, he’ll be your family backing. Stop with the passive-aggressive tone!” I laughed. I laughed so hard I doubled over, tears smearing my face. I had personally shattered the self-righteous illusion I held: that I was the beloved, pampered only child. My mom worriedly grabbed my dad’s arm. “What’s wrong with our daughter?” My dad scoffed coldly, “It’s all your fault for spoiling her. Girls should just be raised casually.” My mom shot back: “Why don’t you casually raise your useless nephew? He didn’t even get into a public university.” My dad retorted: “And how great is your brother’s son? Failing classes in elementary school!” They started arguing, completely ignoring that I had gone back to my room. Maybe having a massive blowup actually calmed my emotions. I opened my laptop and changed all my college applications to universities on the East Coast, two thousand miles away. If there’s no place for me here, I’ll find a place for myself elsewhere. That night, my parents knocked on my door to call me for dinner, acting like nothing had happened. Noticing their slightly unnatural gazes, I looked at my favorite dishes on the table and screamed in excitement just like I always did, giving them all the emotional validation they craved. “Wow, dinner looks amazing! You guys are like master chefs. Are we celebrating our new house?” My parents were very pleased with my “forgiving” attitude. They exchanged a smile and whispered: “See, I told you. What parent and child hold grudges overnight? It’s just a kid throwing a tantrum. She’s fine now.” “Yes, yes. This is our sweet little girl.” My dad, having had a bit of wine, looked at me with loving eyes: “Emma, when you go to college, come home for dinner every weekend. Dad will cook your favorites.” My mom poured tea, smiling and shaking her head: “Look at you spoiling her. She’s going to stick to me like glue.” I pretended to be too busy eating to talk, just nodding enthusiastically. “Look at her, all grown up and still acting like a kid. It’s all because you spoil her.” “She’s our only baby, of course we’re going to spoil her!” I laughed along with them, looking completely carefree. 7 Our family dynamic seemed closer than ever before. Because of my excellent SAT scores, my parents’ colleagues were constantly inviting our family of three to dinner. The excuse was to have them share their parenting secrets. My dad’s school issued a commendation letter, and my mom’s department gave her a bonus. My dad was beaming with pride, and my mom looked ten years younger. Right up until the night before the acceptance letters were due, I was still being dragged to dinner parties. My dad’s best friend had a bit too much to drink and became talkative. “I always said having a daughter is better! She goes to college locally, marries locally, and when the parents get sick, it’s easy for her to take care of them. Unlike my brat, he’s so wild, insisting on going to a school a thousand miles away.” “Statistically, you usually stay where you go to college. When I’m old, no one will take care of me. Ah, daughters really are more caring.” My dad waved his hand dismissively, but the smugness in his eyes was overflowing: “Not true, sons and daughters are equally caring.” My mom peeled a shrimp for me while sneaking glances at my aunt sitting across the table. It was Brittany’s mom. “Did you hear about my cousin? She actually let her only daughter go to Boston for college! She’s probably going to marry someone out there. Both she and her husband have high blood pressure. If something happens to them, what are those two old folks going to do? Our Emma is much better. She’s going to be mommy and daddy’s little girl forever.” She reached over and affectionately pinched my nose. My mom wasn’t quiet, and the whole table heard her. Especially my aunt, whose face turned incredibly sour. My dad gently scolded my mom: “You talk too much. Come on, let’s drink.” Brittany, who happened to be sitting next to my aunt, let out a cold laugh. She suddenly stood up and raised her glass to me. “You’ll be my junior soon. Aren’t you going to toast with me?” My mom turned her slow, bewildered gaze toward me. I knew I couldn’t hide it anymore, and I didn’t want to. I said calmly, “I applied to the University of Michigan. I’m pretty sure I got in.” My mom swatted my arm. “You and your cousin are just messing with us. Everyone knows you cling to your mom and dad the most.” My dad laughed too. “Silly girl, you wouldn’t be able to stand the freezing winters out there.” The dinner continued, and people kept joking, but the atmosphere was noticeably less lively. Especially my parents, who kept zoning out. We finally made it through the dinner. On the ride home, my dad spoke up first. “Emma, you applied to the local state university, right?” My mom shot my dad a glare. “Our Emma is the most obedient, don’t you know that?” They both looked at me simultaneously. Their eyes held expectation and a sliver of… Anxiety. I blinked. “I won’t let you down.” I’ll just make you incredibly angry. They both breathed a sigh of relief and started talking about picking a good date to move into the new house. The next morning, the mail carrier delivered my college acceptance letter.

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My mother-in-law wanted to bring all five of her nieces and nephews from her hometown to spend the summer at our place. My husband, terrified I would refuse, kept following me around, repeatedly asking if I minded. I just smiled. “They’re your family. You decide.” My husband looked at me in disbelief. “You really agree?” Of course I agreed. Even if I didn’t, my mother-in-law would bring the kids over anyway. Only, in this life, you all can choke on the bitter fruits of your own actions. 1 That’s right, I’ve been reborn. I was reborn on the exact day my husband, Mark, told me his mother wanted to bring her nieces and nephews from her hometown to stay with us for the summer. In my previous life, I adamantly refused. First of all, Mark and I had no safety net. We built everything from scratch. We had a mortgage weighing us down, very little savings, and simply couldn’t afford the expenses for that many people. Secondly, our apartment was a cramped 800 square feet. There was no physical way to fit that many people. But the moment Mark agreed to reject his mother’s plan, she showed up on our doorstep anyway, bringing his sister-in-law, his younger sister, and the five kids. Every day, besides scrambling at work, I had to cater to a massive household, managing every meal and chore. If the slightest thing wasn’t to my mother-in-law’s liking, she accused me of mistreating them. I also had to endure the five endlessly rowdy kids and the constant instigating from my sister-in-law and sister. Eventually, due to a minor scuffle between the kids, they verbally abused and blamed me. It escalated until Mark’s emotionally volatile cousin pushed me down the stairs, killing me. After my death, for a measly $10,000 settlement, my mother-in-law’s entire family committed perjury, claiming I tripped and fell on my own. When my own mother heard the news of my death, the shock triggered a massive heart attack, and she couldn’t be saved. Opening my eyes again, I heard Mark hang up the phone. He looked at me hesitantly. “Maya, summer vacation has started. Mom wants to bring the nieces and nephews over to stay for a few days. What do you think?” I took a moment to steady my thoughts, suppressing the deep-seated hatred in my heart, and said calmly, “They’re your family. You decide.” After saying that, I quickly went into the bedroom and started packing my bags. Mark looked at me, bewildered. “Mom and the others aren’t taking our room. Why are you packing?” What a joke. I’m packing because I’m running away. You just stay here and enjoy the massive “gift” your mother brings you. 2 I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue, making my eyes red, and said to Mark, “My mom’s heart is acting up again, and she’s been hospitalized. The doctors say she might need surgery.” “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry, but I don’t know how long I’ll be gone this time. I have to go back and see if she needs the surgery or not.” “I didn’t know your mom was bringing the kids over for the summer. Please explain it to them for me. Since I won’t be here for the next few days, you’ll have to play the good host, honey.” I grew up in a single-parent household, and Mark knew I was very close to my mother. Hearing she was sick, he nodded and, with a pained expression, transferred me a hundred and fifty dollars. “It’s hard for me to get time off work, and Mom and the others are coming over, so I won’t be able to go back with you this time.” “Take this hundred and fifty bucks. Buy your mom some nice supplements.” I kept my expression neutral, thanked him, and accepted the money. In my previous life, I thought I had married a practical, “budget-conscious” man. So, when Mark was stingy with his money towards me and my family, I rationalized it as him being financially responsible. But later I realized that he scrutinized every extra penny spent on me and my family. Yet, when it came to his parents, his older brother, his sister, and the whole clan back in his hometown, he was incredibly generous. Not long after we got married, his mother said they didn’t have enough money to build a new house in their hometown. Without hesitation, Mark transferred the $15,000 we had painstakingly saved right into her account. That was the money we had set aside to start a family. In our second year of marriage, my mom said we should have a baby while she was still young enough to help take care of it. I brought up trying for a baby, having finally managed to save another $7,000. Then, his mother said his older brother’s son wanted to go to an exclusive private boarding school and needed a hefty “school choice” fee. They were exactly $7,000 short. Mark, down to the last cent, sent that $7,000 to his brother. Not to mention the holidays. His mother, obsessed with saving face, made Mark buy expensive liquor and cigarettes for the relatives and give generous cash envelopes to all the kids. Because of this, no matter how hard Mark and I worked and saved, every time we went back to his hometown for Christmas, we returned with empty pockets… Thinking about it now, it’s a blessing we never managed to save any money. I felt so insecure that I never wanted a child. 3 The day after I left, my mother-in-law arrived with Mark’s sister-in-law and younger sister. They also brought his older brother’s son and daughter, his sister’s son and daughter, and his cousin’s son. In total, a chaotic mob of eight people. They squeezed into our cramped 800-square-foot apartment. Seeing that I wasn’t there, my mother-in-law’s face immediately soured. “Mark, where is Maya?” “Did she know we were coming today and go out to buy groceries? Why didn’t she wait for us to get here before going?” “Call her right now. Tell her to buy some good food. Tell her to order some of those King crabs and Boston lobsters. And kids love fried chicken, burgers, and fries—tell her to buy a lot of that too.” “It’s rare for everyone to visit. You and your wife can’t be stingy. You have to buy the good, expensive stuff. Don’t let the people back in the village laugh at us.” Hearing his mother’s demands, Mark stammered, “Mom, Maya went back to her hometown to see her mother. She’s not here…” My mother-in-law exploded. “What?! She’s not here?! As the daughter-in-law of this family, instead of staying home to serve us, she’s running around? She’s completely out of line!” “Then who’s going to wash our clothes and cook for us these next few days? Who’s going to take my grandchildren out to play?” Mark tried to appease her. “I’ll order takeout for you guys, and I’ll take them out to play.” “As for laundry, we have a washing machine, it’s very convenient. And I can cook dinner when I get home from work.” “Besides, Maya’s mom is in the hospital. She went back to check on her. She might be back in a couple of days.” “Mom, just put up with it for a couple of days. When Maya gets back, I’ll make sure she makes it up to you.” Hearing Mark say this, the sister-in-law and the younger sister exchanged a look and pulled my mother-in-law aside to whisper. My mother-in-law finally relaxed her brow and reluctantly agreed. In my past life, Mark thought that bringing five kids into the house just meant making sure they were fed three meals a day. Whenever I complained about being overwhelmed, he would accuse me of looking down on his family and not trying hard enough. Soon enough, he’s going to experience the true power of having five extra kids in the house! 4 Since my mother-in-law and her entourage arrived in the afternoon, Mark easily solved the dinner problem. He ordered several dishes for the adults and a mountain of burgers, fries, and fried chicken for the kids, earning praise from his mother and unanimous approval from the children. My mother-in-law immediately started showing off, taking out her phone to video call the relatives back in their hometown. “Look at this! I told you my son is successful and generous. As soon as we got here, he ordered this huge feast for us. And he says this is just a quick bite to tide us over.” “Mark also said he’s going to buy us lobster and crab tomorrow! See? You guys didn’t want to come, now you’re regretting it, aren’t you?” “Free food, free lodging, and sightseeing. It’s too late to regret it now…” Basking in a chorus of compliments, my mother-in-law hung up the video call, thoroughly satisfied. With their bellies full, the real main event began. The two older nephews, the sons of his older brother and cousin, were in middle school. One grabbed a smartphone and started scrolling through TikTok. The two younger kids fought over a tablet to play games. The youngest niece, his sister’s daughter, threw a tantrum wanting to watch TV. Mark spent a long time fiddling with the projector before getting it to work. After pacifying the kids, a new problem arose for the adults. Whenever my mother-in-law visited in the past, I would meticulously arrange her food, clothing, housing, and transportation in advance. My mother-in-law’s visits were always about taking advantage. She never brought a single change of clothes, expecting me to buy her a completely new wardrobe. The sister-in-law and younger sister followed her lead, only packing a set of pajamas for their kids before coming over. When it came time to wash up for bed, my mother-in-law asked Mark for pajamas, towels, and toothbrushes. The sister-in-law and sister stood by, looking expectantly at him. Mark was completely bewildered. How could he know how much trouble it was to host guests? He had always been a hands-off husband, happily entertaining his hometown relatives while doing none of the work. Because of our past affection, I had always willingly handled all the arrangements for his family. Every time his mother visited, I would have new pajamas and slippers ready for her, buy her two new outfits, and she would even take the slippers with her when she left. Without my advance preparation this time, Mark, let’s see how you manage to keep your hands clean. 5 Urged on by his mother, Mark frantically called me. “Maya, where did you put the pajamas and slippers you prepared for Mom, Sarah, and Amy?” “And where are the spare towels and toothbrushes? I can’t find them.” I feigned innocence. “Mom didn’t tell me to buy those things beforehand.” “Sarah and the others came on a trip and didn’t even bring pajamas?” Mark was momentarily speechless. He paused before patiently explaining, “Mom and the others rarely get to visit. It’s Sarah and Amy’s first time at our place. As the lady of the house, shouldn’t you have prepared these things in advance?” “Besides, didn’t you always handle these things perfectly in the past?” Heh. So he did know that I was the one running around arranging everything whenever his family visited, yet he completely ignored my efforts, taking his role as a hands-off husband for granted. He always talked about honoring his parents, how hard it was for his mom to raise him, and how his older brother gave up the chance to go to college for him, so he had to repay him. But he didn’t even know to prepare basic daily necessities like toothbrushes, towels, and slippers for them in advance. Looking at my mother lying in her hospital bed, I knew it wasn’t the time for a complete fallout just yet. I deliberately acted hurt. “I’m sorry, honey. My mom was hospitalized, and I was in such a rush to get home that I forgot to prepare the toiletries for your mom and the others.” “They arrived so suddenly, and I forgot to tell you beforehand.” “The stores are still open. Why don’t you go buy them some?” I hung up the phone and continued watching the live feed from the security camera in our living room. My mother-in-law crossed her arms, pulling a long face, cursing relentlessly. Mark apologized profusely before leaving to buy the supplies, looking miserable. I watched the chaotic living room through the camera with a mocking smile. This is just the beginning, Mark. Your days of suffering have only just started… 6 After Mark bought everything and everyone had showered and settled down, the kids started acting up. The two older boys refused to sleep, wanting to team up with friends to play video games. The younger ones, seeing the older ones awake, also refused to sleep, running around the apartment fighting and shouting. My mother-in-law yelled at them to go to sleep, but no one paid her any attention. The sister-in-law and sister had retreated to the master bedroom early on to play on their phones, leaving this mess to Mark and his mother. Even though Mark was already exhausted, his back aching, he still had to force himself to stay up and supervise them. We live in an older apartment building with terrible soundproofing, so they quickly received complaints from the neighbors. Someone pounded on the door, shouting from the hallway to keep the noise down because their kids were trying to sleep. My mother-in-law felt insulted and, unwilling to swallow her pride, exploded on the spot, yelling back without even opening the door. “Why is it too loud for you? No one else is complaining! You’re just a busybody! This is our house, we can do whatever we want. It’s none of your business!” The neighbor wasn’t a pushover either. They kicked the door with a loud bang, threatening to teach Mark a lesson if they didn’t open up. Mark didn’t dare act tough. He immediately opened the door and apologized: “I’m sorry, man. It’s a misunderstanding. My relatives’ kids are here for the summer. They’re just excited. I’ll make them go to sleep right now.” Actually, the arrival of so many people at our apartment had already caught the attention of several neighbors that afternoon. Hearing the argument, a few more opened their doors to watch. Some neighbors who had been too polite to complain earlier now joined in, seeing someone else taking the lead. “Yeah, it’s almost midnight. It’s so loud we can’t sleep. It’s summer vacation for you, but we still have to go to work tomorrow.” “The adults have to work, the kids have daycare, we all have to get up early. With so many kids making a racket every day, how are we supposed to live here?” Seeing so many neighbors criticizing them, my mother-in-law grew even more combative. “If you can’t live here, then move! Let me tell you, my son is a top executive at his company. If you keep causing trouble, he’ll make your lives miserable!” The neighbors were so angry they threatened to call the cops. Mark didn’t dare let his mother speak anymore. He pushed her back inside while apologizing profusely, promising to send the kids back as soon as possible. After finally placating the neighbors, my mother-in-law started throwing another fit, threatening to kill herself. 7 My mother-in-law cared about “face” more than anything. Losing face in front of so many people, and then hearing Mark say he was going to send the kids away, she plopped down on the floor, slapping her thighs and cursing loudly. “Mark, you unfilial, heartless son! Are you trying to anger me to death? You’re slapping me in the face!” “We’ve only been here one day, and you’re already rushing to send the kids away. Your brother gave up college to support you, and when you were little, your cousin shared every good thing he had with you. Now that the kids have had one meal at your house, you’re already annoyed and want to send them back. Where am I supposed to put my face?” “I’m telling you right now, if you try to send them back, it’ll be over my dead body!” Mark was terrified of this tactic. Plus, he did have genuine affection for his brother and cousin. He had no choice but to swallow his pride and promise his mother he wouldn’t send the kids back. My mother-in-law looked satisfied. From the looks of it, she planned to stay until school started again. Watching this scene of “motherly love and filial piety” on the video, I sneered. Calculating the time, the cousin was probably already on his way. This time, I was definitely going to steer clear of their family’s messy drama and avoid becoming collateral damage. Before, I had lied to Mark about my mom being hospitalized so I could get away quickly and avoid getting tangled up with his family. Once I got home, I immediately took my mom to the hospital for a check-up. In my past life, the shock of my death caused her to have a fatal heart attack. That was my biggest regret. My mom was still so young. I hadn’t taken her traveling or let her enjoy a comfortable life. Fortunately, my mom’s heart didn’t have any major issues; it was just a narrowed blood vessel. Getting a few stents placed early could prevent the tragedy of my past life. I got my mom admitted, and the next step was to confirm the surgical plan with the doctor. Now, all I had to do was wait for chaos to erupt in Mark’s household again, and wait for his cousin to arrive and deliver the fatal blow. 8 The next day, chaos reigned from the crack of dawn. Before, when Mark and I both had to go to work, we’d grab some bagels and coffee from downstairs to save time. Upon hearing Mark tell them to go downstairs for breakfast themselves, my mother-in-law exploded again. “Mark, do you have any conscience? Your old mother only comes to visit a few times a year, and you expect me to get my own breakfast?” “What did you say yesterday? You promised we’d be well-fed for every meal. Were your words just farts? Just hot air?” “I don’t care! If you don’t buy breakfast and bring it back today, don’t you dare call me your mother!” My mother-in-law’s temper flared. She pointed her finger at Mark’s nose, demanding he prepare breakfast before leaving for work. Mark was sweating profusely, frantically trying to appease her. “Mom, look, I’m going to be late for work. If I wait to buy everyone breakfast, I’ll miss the subway. If I’m late, they’ll dock my pay, and I’ll lose my perfect attendance bonus.” My mother-in-law refused to listen. This was her moment to establish authority; she couldn’t tolerate Mark’s disobedience. Besides, she had already bragged to everyone in the village that her son would serve them three square meals a day. It was only the second day, and he wanted them to buy their own breakfast. If the busybodies back in the village found out, where would she put her face? Unable to argue with his mother, Mark had to sprint downstairs to buy breakfast for the entire family. To save time, he bought bagels and coffee for everyone. Seeing the plain bagels and coffee on the table, the kids started complaining too. “Uncle, I don’t want bagels, I want pancakes and hot chocolate.” “I want chicken nuggets and donuts.” “I don’t want coffee, I want a smoothie and breakfast burritos.” The kids talked over each other. Mark’s head was about to explode, and he finally grew a spine. “Stop arguing! It’s so annoying! Eat it or don’t! If you don’t eat, you go hungry!” Seeing that he really was out of time, Mark grabbed his bag and sprinted out the door amidst his mother’s scolding. He thought he’d find some peace at the office, but he forgot his promise to take his mother out for a big meal today. Seeing that it was almost noon and Mark wasn’t answering his phone, my mother-in-law, unwilling to wait any longer, led the entire clan out the door.

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It was 107°F in the scorching summer heat, and I was standing on the street handing out flyers. My mother’s Bentley was parked right by the curb. She was blowing the AC inside, supervising me as I earned my “cleaning fee.” It wasn’t until I shoved the very last flyer into the window of a Ferrari that had just pulled up. Two minutes later, I pulled open the car door and got in. My mother finally panicked. Speeding down the road, she called my phone: “Who is the man driving that car?” “What is your relationship?” “Have you slept with him?!” I just smiled. “He is a man who would buy me tampons, and who doesn’t mind that I stained the backseat of his car.” “Don’t worry, I’m on my period right now. He’s not that much of a beast.” “He’ll have to wait at least seven days…” 1 Heat waves rolled up from the asphalt pavement in waves, and I felt like the soles of my shoes were about to melt away. Sweat dripped from my forehead, slid down my cheeks, and stung as it seeped into my eyes. My cheap T-shirt had been soaked through for a long time, clinging stickily to my back, suffocating me so much I could barely breathe. I wanted to stand under the shade of the trees on the sidewalk, even if it was just for one minute. But I didn’t dare. Not far away was that black Bentley. My mother sat in the car, staring at me like an overseer. I had two hundred flyers in my hand, and I had to hand every single one out without a single one left over. This was the “task” she gave me today. All of this was simply because this morning, my period came early. When I stood up, I accidentally left a tiny, nail-sized bloodstain on the beige leather backseat of her Bentley. For this one spot of blood, my mother went crazy. She used her six-figure Hermès Birkin bag to smash me over the head, over and over again. The hard metal lock struck my temple, making it throb with pain. “Olivia! Do you think this car is too clean? You ruined my car on purpose! You are exactly like your con-artist father, filthy to the bone! You only know how to bring trouble to people! Disgusting!” I hung my head, silently enduring her verbal abuse. It was like this every time. As long as I made her unhappy, she would bring up that man. The man who had a brief marriage with my mother, and who, when she was pregnant, embezzled a massive sum of money from her company to save his high-school sweetheart—some poor girl from the countryside. My dad. Since the day he vanished, I became the biggest stain in my mother’s life. A living, breathing piece of evidence, constantly reminding her that she had been cheated out of her money, her heart, and her body by a poor boy. My mother projected all her hatred for my father onto me, intensifying it. She firmly believed that the blood of “poverty” and “betrayal” flowed in my veins, just like my father’s. She sent me to the most expensive private academy in the city, but she only paid the most basic tuition for me—just enough to let me step foot through the school gates. She made me wear cheap street-stall clothes, looking like a freak among a group of wealthy heirs. Every day, lunchtime at school was my public execution. My classmates would sit in the dining hall, eating flown-in Wagyu beef and bluefin tuna. But I couldn’t enter that dining hall. Because my mother didn’t pay the two-thousand-dollar monthly meal fee for me. I could only be alone, like a rat hiding from the light, tucked away in the corner of an abandoned utility room on the top floor of the academic building. When I opened my lunchbox, a sour smell hit my face. Inside were the leftovers from what the house staff ate the night before, haphazardly mixed together. It was impossible to tell what it originally was. Blackened, wilted vegetable leaves, solidified clumps of grease, and a sticky, mushy lump of rice. Sometimes, if I was “lucky.” There would even be one or two rib bones inside that had already been gnawed completely clean. It felt like some kind of charity, and at the same time, a silent mockery. My mother called this “tempering.” She said I had to first grind away that filthy, impoverished bloodline before I was worthy of the Sterling family’s wealth. 2 The year I turned 14, a sharp, twisting pain flared up in my lower right abdomen. At first, it was just a dull ache. I thought I had eaten something bad and didn’t take it seriously. But not long after, the pain violently escalated, like a red-hot iron rod brutally churning back and forth inside my body. I was in so much pain that I rolled off the bed, curling up on the ice-cold floor. Cold sweat broke out layer by layer, quickly soaking through my thin pajamas. Supporting myself against the wall, I struggled to drag myself to the living room, begging for help from my mother, who was leisurely applying a face mask. Even my voice was trembling. “Mom, my stomach… hurts so much…” She lifted her eyelids, shot me a glance, and let out a cold sneer from her nose. “What trick are you trying to pull now?” “Your father used that exact same pitiful face to con money out of me back in the day. You father and daughter, you have cheap, lowly calculation carved into your bones.” The disdain in her tone chilled my heart even more than the twisting pain in my abdomen. I tried to explain, but the severe pain made me unable to speak a single complete sentence. Waves of pain hit me one after another. I started rolling on the floor, my vision blackening in flashes, my consciousness hovering on the edge of collapse. I was really going to die. This thought caused me to burst out with my last bit of strength. I struggled to crawl to her feet and grabbed her silk robe. I kowtowed to her. One time, then another. My forehead struck the floorboards, making a dull, heavy thud. “Mom… please… save me…” Perhaps this utterly pathetic, miserable display of mine finally pleased her. She slowly stood up, looking down at me from above. “Going to the hospital is fine, but sign this first. My money isn’t blown in by the wind; you have to remember every single cent I spend on you.” She threw a piece of paper and a pen at me. It was an “IOU.” On the white paper with black ink, it stated that I, Olivia Sterling, due to a sudden illness, voluntarily borrowed the surgery fees and subsequent treatment costs from my mother, Evelyn Sterling. I promised to repay the principal and interest in full once I reached adulthood and started working. The interest rate was five times the bank’s standard rate. In that moment, I finally understood that in her eyes, I wasn’t her daughter. I was just a burden who needed to constantly repay a father’s debt. Through the agonizing pain, I used all the strength in my body and trembling hands to sign my name on that ice-cold piece of paper. Only then did she unhurriedly call the driver. 3 After the surgery, my mother only allowed me to stay in the hospital for two days. She ripped out my IV tube, saying that if I didn’t go back to school, I would fall behind on my coursework. The wound on my abdomen chafed painfully against the fabric of my clothes, but this little bit of physical pain was far less agonizing than the torment of being an “outcast” in that elite prep school. Because I hadn’t paid the few hundred dollars for textbook fees, I could only squeeze next to my desk-mate to share one book during class. My desk-mate was a somewhat cowardly boy. Whenever those rich kids, who took pleasure in bullying me, cast unkind looks our way, he would slide the book a large chunk over to his side, leaving me only an awkward corner. I could only desperately crane my neck, like a starving bird stealing food. During the break, the humiliation arrived as expected. A group of girls wearing exquisite makeup cornered me in the restroom. The leader was Madison, the “Queen Bee” of our class. They pushed me to the floor, and ice-cold, filthy water was poured over my head. It soaked my cheap, washed-out T-shirt and instantly soaked through the gauze on my abdomen. An icy, stabbing pain radiated from the wound. “Hey, Olivia, I heard your mom is the CEO of a publicly traded company. Why can’t you even afford your textbook fees?” “You wouldn’t happen to be an illegitimate daughter, would you? The kind that can’t be shown in public?” Their mockery pierced my heart like needles. That day, they pushed and shoved me, kneeing my abdomen. The freshly healed wound tore open again. Bright red blood soaked through the gauze, dyeing my clothes red. I was sent to the infirmary to be re-bandaged. The school called my mother, reporting the bullying and the unpaid fees. The phone was on speaker. I stood in the office, like a criminal waiting for trial. I clearly heard my mother’s voice on the other end—calm, unbothered, even carrying a trace of a lazy smile. “It’s just kids playing around. Our Olivia isn’t that delicate.” “As for the textbook fee,” she paused, her voice carrying a playful amusement, “I’m doing this to train her independence. I absolutely cannot let her develop the bad habit of getting something for nothing.” “If she wants money, make her go earn it.” And so, I became the only student in that elite private school who had to go collect trash after the final bell. While my classmates sat in various luxury cars with logos I didn’t recognize, heading to high-end restaurants and private clubs. I carried my heavy backpack and walked into the dirtiest corners of the city, digging through dumpsters that reeked of sour rot, searching for plastic bottles and cardboard that could be exchanged for cash. Once, I was digging through a dumpster in the back alley of a high-end French restaurant. I happened to see my mother and her socialite friends sitting at an open-air cafe not far away. My mother saw me. She showed absolutely no surprise. Instead, she lifted her coffee cup and toasted me from afar, the corners of her lips curling into a cruel yet satisfied arc. Like she was appreciating a play she had personally directed, titled “Tempering.” And I was just the clown struggling in the mud for her amusement. I collected recyclables for a week. My fingers were cut, and my entire body reeked of sour garbage. In the end, I only exchanged it all for thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents. The thousands of dollars needed for textbook fees were nowhere in sight. At the very last moment on the day of the payment deadline, my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Miller, called me into her office. She pushed a brand-new set of textbooks in front of me and said gently, “Olivia, the teacher paid for your books.” “Mrs. Miller… I…” I held that stack of brand-new books, and my tears fell uncompetitively. Mrs. Miller patted my shoulder, her tone warm. “Don’t cry. I don’t need you to pay me back. You just need to promise me that you will study hard, and that will be enough.” After getting the textbooks, for the first time, I sat in the classroom with my back straight. I studied like crazy, wanting to repay Mrs. Miller’s kindness with excellent grades. But those good days lasted less than a week. My mother must have seen the crossed-out textbook fee on the billing statement the school mailed to our house. She came to the school and went straight to the Principal’s office. Not long after, Mrs. Miller, who was right in the middle of teaching our class, was called out by the principal’s assistant. When she left, she was still pinching half a piece of chalk in her hand. She only said, “Students, self-study,” and never came back. The class started buzzing with discussion. A strong wave of unease suddenly rose in my heart, so much so that I couldn’t even focus on my book. It wasn’t until after class that I saw it on the bulletin board. A thin piece of A4 paper, yet heavy enough to crush a person—a notice regarding the termination of Mrs. Sarah Miller’s employment contract. My mother was one of the biggest financial sponsors of this private school. To her, firing a teacher was easier than crushing an ant. I rushed to the school gates like a madwoman. My mother was just about to get into her car. “Mom! Why did you fire Mrs. Miller?!” I cried and shouted at her, my voice cracking from agitation. “Why are you crying?” Her tone was completely flat. “Did I fire her? No. It was your ‘kind-hearted’ Mrs. Miller who insisted on being a busybody and ruining my educational policy.” “What educational policy! Mrs. Miller is a good person! She was just helping me…” “A good person?” My mother let out a short laugh, as if she had just heard the biggest joke in the world. “Olivia, I’ll teach you another free lesson today. In this world, the most worthless thing is a so-called ‘good person,’ and all that unprovoked kindness.” “Besides, you need to be very clear about one thing. Everything Mrs. Miller is experiencing right now is because you implicated her.” “She lost her job because of you.” That single sentence pinned me dead to the spot. It was true. It was because I accepted that kindness that I harmed the only person who was good to me. My mother looked at my deathly pale face with satisfaction, turned around, pulled the car door open, and got in. The car window slowly rolled down, revealing that well-maintained, yet entirely temperature-less face of hers. “Oh, right. I’ve already reimbursed Mrs. Miller for your textbooks.” “That money, naturally, still counts as a loan to you.” “The interest will continue to accrue.” 4 After Mrs. Miller was fired, I became the god of plague in the school, someone everyone avoided at all costs. When I walked down the hallway, classmates who had originally been laughing and talking would instantly fall silent, looking at me with a gaze mixed with fear and disdain, before silently dispersing. The bullying from Madison’s clique completely tore off its disguise and became unprecedentedly blatant. They would snatch the brand-new textbooks Mrs. Miller bought me right off my desk in front of the entire class. They used markers to draw obscene doodles and vicious curses all over them, and then, right in front of my eyes, tore them to shreds, page by page. I pounced on them like crazy, trying to snatch those books back. They were the only proof of warmth I had ever possessed. But they pushed me to the ground in a chaotic scramble. The hard floor bruised my bones. I don’t know who unscrewed a bottle of ink. The sticky, freezing blue-black liquid poured down from the top of my head. The ice-cold liquid soaked through my clothes and dyed the scattered pages on the floor black. But no other teacher ever dared to step forward to help me again. They intentionally avoided my gaze, as if I carried some contagious bad luck. They were all afraid. Afraid that they would end up like Mrs. Miller—that because they offered me a trivial piece of charity, their lives would be effortlessly destroyed by my powerful, omnipotent mother. I became a true isolated island, abandoned by the whole world. That day, they cornered me in the restroom again, pouring a bucket of dirty water over me from head to toe. When I got home completely drenched, unable to tell if it was dirty water or tears on my face, I collapsed. I could no longer endure this boundless despair. For the first time, I mustered up my courage and blocked the doorway to my mother’s study. She was elegantly sipping red wine and flipping through a financial magazine, turning a blind eye to my miserable state. Using all my strength, I asked the question that had hovered in my heart for years, nearly tearing me apart: “Why?” My voice was trembling, carrying a crying tone. “Why can’t you treat me like a normal mother would?” She finally reacted. She took a photo frame out of her drawer and threw it at my feet. Crash! The glass of the frame shattered, scratching a corner of the photo inside. In the photo was a man smiling a gentle, clean smile. His eyes and features were identical to mine. My mother finally lifted her eyes, and in those beautiful pupils surged a hatred that was practically overflowing. “Because of this face, these eyes. You look exactly like him.” She stood up and walked toward me step by step, looking down at me as if she were looking at a piece of garbage that completely disgusted her. “Every day I look at you, it’s like looking at a debt collector. A living, breathing piece of evidence constantly reminding me of how stupid and cheap I was back then!” She extended her finger and poked my heart heavily. “Olivia, the fact that I didn’t throw you away the moment you were born is already the greatest mercy I could show you as a mother.” In that moment, the last trace of warmth in my heart, the final thread of extravagant hope for family affection, was snuffed out by her own hands. Thoroughly frozen, shattered into powder. It turns out that not all bloodlines are tied to heartache. The maternal love written in books might just be a fairytale, and the hatred a real mother had for me was bone-chilling, colder than the winter wind. 5 … The static noise in my Bluetooth earbud snapped me awake from my scorching trance. I had just handed a flyer to a passing man. He swatted my hand away with a look of disgust and cursed vulgarly, “Roll away, don’t bother me.” Instantly, my mother’s cold voice came through the Bluetooth earbud in my ear. “Olivia, your posture is wrong.” “If you are begging for a living, you need to look like you’re begging. You need to smile, you need to look approachable. Who are you showing that funeral face to?” She paused, her tone full of mockery: “Do you think it’s that easy to make money? You don’t even stand properly. Who is going to take your stuff?” I twitched the corners of my mouth, forcing a smile that looked uglier than crying, and began mechanically repeating the process: handing out, getting rejected, handing out again. But my mother was still endlessly nagging and lecturing in my earbud. The two hundred flyers were finally handed out until only the very last one remained. At this moment, she spoke into the earbud again: “Do you see it, Olivia?! That red Ferrari that just parked by the curb!” “Quick! Shove the flyer to him! That is our premium client. Catching someone like him is more useful than handing out a thousand flyers!” I numbly lifted my head and looked over, following her words. That red Ferrari was parked by the curb, its engine still running. Gripping that final flyer, which had long been softened by my sweat, I moved my lead-filled legs and walked over. Just as I was about to bend down to shove the flyer through the gap in the car window. The car door was pushed open without warning. A man stepped out of the car. He was tall and stood perfectly straight. Even a simple white T-shirt and black pants couldn’t hide the noble aura radiating from his entire being. He was carefully cradling a tiny kitten in his hands. The cat was only the size of a palm, completely dirty, and meowing with a soft, tiny voice. It sounded like it was acting spoiled, but also like it was afraid. One look and you could tell it was a stray cat he had just picked up. The man lowered his eyes, focused entirely on the little guy in his arms. He frowned slightly, looking somewhat helpless. He lifted his head, his gaze falling on me, and his cold, clear voice carried a trace of inquiry: “Do you know how to take care of a kitten?” I was instantly stunned in place. My brain went completely blank. And right at that moment, my mother’s death warrant rang crazily in my earbud again. The sound was sharp and piercing, almost puncturing my eardrum: “Olivia! What are you staring off into space like a dead person for?!” “Hurry up and hand the flyer over! Let him see your sincerity! You idiot!” I looked at the shivering little cat in the man’s arms, and then I thought of myself. I jerked my head up. Tears burst out like a broken dam without warning, blurring my vision. Right now. This was my only chance. “I do, but can you take me away from here first?” I stared intensely into his eyes, terrified of missing even the slightest hint of rejection. “Please.” “…Someone is watching me.” The man’s deep eyes narrowed slightly. His line of sight seemed to cross over my shoulder, glancing at that black Bentley parked not far away. He didn’t ask a single question. He just pulled the car door open. “Get in.” I practically crawled and scrambled my way inside. The engine let out a roar, and we instantly vanished around the corner. Before I even had time to catch my breath, my mother’s furious voice came through the Bluetooth: “Olivia! You’re crazy! What are you doing?!” “Whose car is that! Get out right now!” I took a deep breath and spoke faintly: “Mom, he is a man who would buy me tampons, and who doesn’t mind that I stained the backseat of his car.” There was dead silence on my mother’s end for a second. Following that was a hysterical stream of curses, even worse than before. “You slut! You are exactly like your deadbeat father!” “You’re both lowlife trash! Like a dog that jumps the moment it sees money!” Normally, I would only endure it silently. But right now, I took the earbud out and threw it out the window without hesitation. 6 Actually, I had no idea how to take care of a kitten. My only intimate contact with a cat was when I was very young. That day, I brought a rain-soaked stray cat back from outside. It was skin and bones, and I put it in my room, wanting to keep it. As a result, my mom found out. She wore that familiar look of disgust and disdain. She had a maid grab the kitten by the scruff of the neck and throw it far out the front door, just like tossing a piece of trash. She pointed at my nose and warned me, word by word: “Olivia, if you ever dare to bring this kind of dirty thing home again, I will throw you out right alongside it, and don’t you ever come back!” On the way to the man’s house, I constantly used my phone to search for tutorials on taking care of kittens. [How to care for a kitten as a beginner?] [Can kittens drink cow’s milk?] [What temperature warm water should be used for goat milk powder?] I read until my head was spinning, terrified that I would remember any detail wrong. I was afraid. Afraid that he would realize I knew absolutely nothing, and then, just like my mother, throw me out of the car. Luckily. When we got back to his house—which was as massive as a palace—and it was time to feed the kitten. This man, Ethan Vance, didn’t seem to be much better at this than I was. He held the tiny baby bottle with a serious expression, but his movements were incredibly clumsy. And I, relying on the knowledge I had just frantically crammed, helped him mix the warm water and test the temperature. He couldn’t spot my flaws. The kitten finally finished the milk with immense satisfaction, curled up in a soft towel, and let out a tiny purring sound. The room fell quiet in an instant. This moment of peace reminded me that this short-lived shelter was about to end. I gripped the hem of my shirt tightly, my fingernails almost embedding themselves into my palms. I can’t leave. I can’t go back to that hell. I lifted my head, meeting his inquiring gaze. I mustered all the courage I had in my life, my voice trembling slightly from tension. “…Does your house need a maid?” Ethan was stunned for a second, then replied faintly, “I have an auntie who cooks for me.” It was an expected answer. But I was unwilling to accept it. This was my only chance. I urgently added, “What about someone to take care of the cat?!” “I can take care of it. I’m very good at taking care of small animals. I can do anything!” I wanted to stay so badly. Because the current me was penniless and homeless. Right at this moment, an inopportune sound echoed in the room. Rumble— My stomach growled. I haven’t had a single drop of water to drink since morning. Ethan’s gaze landed on my face, which was now flushed red with embarrassment. He said: “Let’s eat first.” The dining table was covered in exquisite dishes, the kind of food I had only ever seen my mother eat before. I sat cautiously at the table, my hands resting on my knees, not even daring to touch the silverware. He seemed to notice my constraint and handed a clean fork and knife to me. “Eat.” That single word instantly shattered my initial reserve. I shoved the food into my mouth with total disregard, wolfing it down. I ate too fast and even choked, coughing until tears came out of my eyes. When I finally lifted my head from the food, I suddenly realized that the man sitting across from me hadn’t touched his silverware from start to finish. Ethan just sat there quietly, his deep gaze resting on me, his emotions unreadable. My cheeks burned hotly in an instant, and a sense of shame overwhelmed me. He must think I am uneducated and embarrassing. “It’s okay,” he seemed to see through my thoughts, a very faint curve hooking the corner of his mouth. “The way you eat is very appetizing.” “By the way, looking at your age… you should still be in school, right?” Gripping my fork, I nodded, my voice as small as a mosquito’s hum: “…High school senior.” He frowned imperceptibly. “Then why are you out here… offering to be a maid?” “Also, who was watching you?” I put down my fork, lowered my head, and stared at the dirty tips of my shoes. I was silent for a very, very long time. “It was my mom.” I don’t know how I managed to recount everything. The humiliation, the pain, the despair. Through my barren vocabulary, it became a pale, lengthy statement. By the end, my voice was unbearably hoarse, and my vision was a blur. I lifted my head, looking at him with teary eyes, like a drowning person grabbing onto the last piece of driftwood. “I’m begging you, please give me a job.” “I promise I will take good care of the cat. I can swallow any bitterness.” Ethan listened to my story. There was no pity in his eyes, nor was there disdain. After a long time, he finally spoke, his voice calm to the point of being almost cruel. “I don’t need a maid here.” He rejected me. The very last flame of hope was extinguished. I stood up from the chair, my body swaying slightly from exhaustion. “…I understand. Thank you for dinner.” I bowed deeply toward him. Then I turned and walked toward the grand front door. I should go. Back to the hell I belong in. Just as my hand touched the doorknob, Ethan called out to me. “Wait a second. I don’t need a maid.” “But your tuition, your living expenses, and all the expenses for your future college education—I can sponsor them.”

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Under a trending TikTok video, a woman tagged her boyfriend to watch. [Everyone move over! My hubby loves this kind of thing, let him watch first!] I clicked on her profile picture and froze. She was the girl who bullied me in high school. I would recognize that face even if it turned to ashes. I stayed up all night scrolling through all her videos, then clicked on the boyfriend she tagged. I sent a DM. [You there?] 01 Before seeing Chloe Vance again, I had imagined many times what she must be like now. I thought bad people would eventually get their karma, that she would be living a miserable, impoverished life. But she wasn’t. In the videos she posted, today she was at the Cheval Blanc Randheli in the Maldives, a hotel that costs tens of thousands a night; tomorrow she was flying to Iceland to see the Northern Lights; the day after, she was speeding down the West Coast in a sports car at sunset. Her most recent photo showed her sitting in a black Rolls-Royce, wearing a Chanel suit, smiling brightly at the camera, without a hint of worry on her face. She looked like she was living an incredibly good life. But why did she deserve it? I stared hard at her smiling face on my phone screen. Slowly, that smiling face morphed into her wearing a high school uniform, slapping me while laughing, again and again, until her hand hurt, then switching with the person behind her, laughing as she aimed her phone camera at my swollen, bleeding face: “Smile, Maya! Weren’t you the one who loved acting like a slut the most? Why aren’t you smiling now?!” She yanked my hair hard, her smile growing wider: “Smile!” Chloe’s malice towards me started when the boy she liked gave me a birthday present. He gave me a designer bag for my birthday, supposedly brought back from Europe by his mom. It cost over three thousand dollars, and I was so scared I refused to take it. He got mad and threw it at me, saying if I didn’t want it, I could just throw it away. While I was standing there holding the bag, not knowing what to do, Chloe walked in. She snatched the bag, stared at it for a moment, and suddenly smiled. But that smile looked incredibly twisted, making my blood run cold. “I asked him for this bag for three months and he wouldn’t give it to me. I didn’t expect he actually wanted to give it to you.” She looked up at me, her gaze making my hair stand on end: “Maya, you’re pretty capable, aren’t you.” After that, Chloe started constantly targeting me. My biggest fear every day was school letting out, because I never knew when she would bring people to corner me in the bathroom for a beating and humiliation. During that time, I lived in constant fear every day, plagued by nightmares every night, but I didn’t dare tell anyone. My parents divorced when I was young, both starting new families. Only my grandmother, who had a bad limp, was willing to take me in. She ran a small deli, waking up early and staying up late to sell food to pay for my schooling. I was one of the few students at that private school who got in on a full scholarship because of my excellent grades. I didn’t dare tell the teachers, because Chloe threatened me with my grandmother. I also knew that the school would definitely turn a blind eye to Chloe, whose family was powerful and influential. I could only study harder, hoping to get into a good college early and leave this place. But in the end, I couldn’t even realize that small hope. The night before the SATs, Chloe locked me in the bathroom again. This time, she had people strip off my clothes and take photos. I was locked in the bathroom all night and couldn’t leave, so I didn’t know that my photos had already appeared in various local group chats that night. I also didn’t know that Chloe intentionally had someone go to my grandmother’s deli to show her those photos. My grandmother was worried sick and couldn’t wait for me to come home. She limped all the way to the school to find me. Then, because she was too anxious and didn’t look carefully while crossing the street, she was hit and run over by a fatigued truck driver, dying on the spot. I only found out the news the next morning when the school janitor let me out. I saw stars, my head spun, and I collapsed on the ground, my mind a complete blank. When I woke up, I was already in the hospital. In one day, I lost the chance to take the SATs and change my fate, and the grandmother I depended on for survival. I remember almost nothing about the aftermath of that day. My body was probably in so much pain that it triggered a self-protection mechanism and sealed away that memory. I only remember the teacher coming to see me then. I heard her telling someone else in the hallway with great pity: “She had the potential for the Ivy League. What a shame.” Chloe got away scot-free, only being called into the principal’s office for a scolding. Because her dad was a well-known local entrepreneur and a major taxpayer, the principal didn’t dare offend him. I used the remaining money we had to arrange my grandmother’s funeral. I didn’t have money to retake the year, so I could only find a job at a factory to support myself. Meanwhile, Chloe was sent to the US for college, starting her fabulous life. … I sat on the bed in the dark bedroom, just staring blankly at the pitch-black ceiling. During the hardest years, I often spaced out like this. Actually, life got a lot better later on. After I started making money, I got my bachelor’s degree through adult education, saved up some money, and opened my own online women’s clothing store, acting as my own model. Luckily, I was pretty, caught a trend, and business boomed. Now, I have achieved financial freedom. I thought I had forgotten the past. I thought I could start a new life. But the moment I saw Chloe’s face, I suddenly realized that I had never let it go. I hated her. I hated her to death. I sat there until dawn, my stiff fingers finally clicking on the account she tagged. It was an account with a minimalist line-drawing avatar, with not a single video posted. But I quickly found out his identity. Liam Sterling, Chloe’s fiancé. The Vance family was on the verge of bankruptcy when she was in college, and finally managed to bounce back through an arranged marriage. The Sterling family was the powerful backer the Vance family clung to. It was also the guarantee that Chloe could live such a luxurious life now. Chloe didn’t recognize me anymore. It was truly ironic. She had personally pushed me into hell, and I saw her smiling face in every nightmare, but she didn’t remember me anymore, even tagging Liam in my comments section for him to see. I tapped the chat icon next to Liam’s avatar, thought for a moment, and sent him a DM. [You there?] 02 Three days later, I opened Liam’s chat box for the umpteenth time. He still hadn’t replied. I wasn’t surprised. From the information I had gathered these past few days, Liam was actually pretty clean when it came to his relationships with women. Chloe tagging him was probably just a random joke; she knew Liam wouldn’t be interested. It’s really quite strange. He’s the heir to the Sterling family, and from the videos and photos I found, he’s at least 6’2″. Thanks to his movie star mother, he also has a face that could instantly debut in Hollywood. For such a quintessential tall, rich, and handsome guy, his favorite activity wasn’t picking up girls, playing with sports cars, or showing off his wealth. It was fishing. Yeah, like an old man, setting up a fishing rod by the ocean or a pond and fishing all day. Since sending a DM online clearly wasn’t working, I looked up a lot of information about him, even following him to the bottom of his office building. Liam’s life was very routine—just commuting between home and work, and dedicating one day every weekend solely to fishing. After figuring out his quitting time, I drove my car behind his. Waiting for a red light, I pulled up behind his car and intentionally rear-ended him! With a “bang,” the car in front stopped. Then, Liam, wearing a suit, frowned, got out, and knocked on my window. I smoothed my hair, glancing at the rearview mirror out of the corner of my eye. I had specifically hired a makeup artist who charged five figures to do my makeup, ensuring every single eyelash was exquisite while not looking like I was wearing much makeup. Sure enough, when I opened the car door, Liam’s furrowed brow relaxed a bit. Chloe must know Liam likes my type, which is why she tagged him. He might not be interested in me just because of a face, but at least he wouldn’t feel disgusted by me. I looked up, revealing a perfectly angled face, and apologized panickily: “I’m so sorry, I’m a new driver. I was too anxious just now and didn’t react in time. Are you okay?” Liam shook his head, walked to the back of the car, and took a look: “It’s not very serious. Let’s move the cars first so we don’t block traffic, and we can just go through insurance later.” I nodded. The two of us waited by the side of the road for the insurance agent to finish the whole process. Then I naturally pulled out my phone, opened my Venmo QR code, and handed it to him: “Let’s add each other. We can contact each other if anything comes up!” My attitude was too natural, giving him no chance to refuse. Liam paused for a moment, took out his phone, and scanned me. “I’m really sorry about today. How about I treat you to dinner sometime?” I looked up at him. “No need, the insurance is sorted out. Just contact me on WeChat if anything comes up.” He rejected me as I expected, got in his car, and left. I watched his car merge into traffic, holding my phone, a smirk playing on my lips. Today’s goal was achieved. I hadn’t expected to get close to Liam so quickly; getting his contact info was already a success. I like a challenge. If he took the bait too fast, it wouldn’t be fun. I found all of Chloe’s social media accounts. She seemed to really like Liam, with almost nine out of ten posts being about him. They were blatantly filled with her infatuation with him. The Vance family had been showing more and more signs of decline these past few years. If it weren’t for the Sterling family’s capital injection holding them up, they probably would have gone bankrupt long ago. Chloe Vance. I’d really like to see if she can still live so comfortably without Liam. If God won’t give her karma, I’ll deliver it myself. 03 I stayed up all night studying Liam’s Instagram. He really was a guy with a simple life. He barely had any posts, only showing off on Instagram when he caught a fish. I didn’t initiate a conversation with him; I just waited a few days and posted a photo on my story. Ripples blown by the wind on a dark, deep pool. I held up a large carp, smiling at the camera with my lips pressed together. [Another day without getting skunked!] I waited a week. Liam didn’t like or comment. But he didn’t post on his story that week either. Clearly, he hadn’t caught any fish. The second week, I continued posting. Still a carp, still that deep pool, but this time the fish was a size bigger, weighing at least four or five pounds. [Big catch!] He still didn’t reply. The third week, I kept posting. [Can’t finish catching them, literally can’t finish.] Then I put on a face mask and went to sleep. Early the next morning, I opened my phone. Among the dozens of likes, I finally saw the person I was waiting for. Liam commented: [Excuse me, where is this?] I looked at my phone and smirked. He took the bait. 04 When I saw Liam again, he was noticeably more talkative. “Is there really that many fish at the spot you mentioned?” I discreetly sized him up. He was wearing a black hoodie and gray sweatpants, his black hair unstyled, falling naturally over his forehead. When he talked about something he was interested in, his eyes widened slightly, shining brightly. He looked nothing like the cold, aloof heir in the financial magazines; he felt more like a college student in his early twenties. I nodded: “You’ll know when we get there. I’ve never been skunked any of the times I’ve been there.” Actually, I didn’t know how to fish at all. I had frantically crammed for this just to hook Liam. I found this fishing spot after asking countless people and wandering the mountains for days. When Liam first commented, I ignored him. I didn’t leisurely reply until the next day after posting another story: [It’s up in the mountains, pretty hard to find.] This time he replied instantly: [Could I trouble you to bring me along next time you go? Thank you.] I put down my phone and ate dinner, estimating he was getting impatient before replying: [Sure.] … I cast my line a few yards away from Liam. He didn’t initiate conversation, and I wasn’t going to kiss up to him. Occasionally, when there was a bite, we would glance at each other. I could tell that when I hooked a fish, he really wanted to come over and look, but he was a bit too embarrassed, just pretending nothing was happening while his gaze swept back and forth. From Chloe’s Instagram, Liam was the kind of guy who was a bit cold. He wouldn’t even offer perfunctory politeness for things he didn’t like. He probably grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, and with his excellent personal qualities, he rarely encountered situations where he had to please others or take the initiative. He was used to having others revolve around him. There probably hasn’t been a shortage of crazy admirers throwing themselves at him over the years. If I was too proactive, I’d probably just end up like those other women in his mind, not worth paying attention to. After taking Liam there the first time, I didn’t contact him again, but I figured out his schedule. I staked out the spot every day, ensuring I bumped into him at least once a week. But the process of waiting for a fish was too boring. After our third meeting, he finally started talking to me. “How did you find this fishing spot?” “I’ve been to most of the fishing spots and fisheries nearby. They were boring. I accidentally saw this one while hiking and thought I’d give it a try. Didn’t expect it to be this good.” Once we started talking about fishing, Liam became noticeably more talkative. When he got excited, he showed me a video of him catching catfish in the Amazon River. I was full of praise, and then showed him a photo of me deep-sea fishing for tuna. His eyes lit up, and then he felt a bit regretful: “I wanted to go tuna fishing before, but I’ve been too busy and haven’t had the chance.” He looked up at me, truly looking at me for the first time: “I didn’t expect you to like fishing so much. Girls who love fishing are really rare.” We talked more and more, moving from sports to our favorite music, movies, and books, and then he surprisingly realized we actually had quite a few shared hobbies and interests. We both liked skiing, we both liked Yukio Mishima’s The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea, we both liked listening to Koji Tamaki. We even understood each other’s preferences where we differed. By the time we snapped back to reality, we realized we had chatted the entire afternoon, and the sky was dark. After that, we often fished and chatted together. We even adopted a little stray cat together. This little orange cat was only a few months old. Every time we came fishing, it would lie quietly nearby waiting for fish to eat. Sometimes when neither of us caught anything, it would meow anxiously, urging us on. I named it “Nian Nian,” meaning surplus year after year. Every time I went, I would kiss and cuddle it. Liam wasn’t as interested in it. Every time Nian Nian went to rub against him, he would dodge. He was a bit of a germaphobe and hated getting cat hair on him. That night, when we said goodbye, Liam asked me for the first time: “When are you coming next?” I thought for a moment: “Work has been pretty busy lately, it’s hard to say.” A barely noticeable hint of disappointment flashed in his eyes, but he still nodded politely and didn’t say much more. I didn’t go for the entire next week. It wasn’t until the second week that I finally showed up. Seeing me again, Liam’s face didn’t show it, but he quickly moved his chair closer to mine. “What have you been doing these past few days? Why haven’t you been fishing?” I walked over and pet Nian Nian, who was lying on the ground. He stretched his body lazily on the ground, his little belly bulging. He had gained a lot of weight, his fur was glossy and smooth, looking like he was being taken very good care of. “Have you been feeding him these past few days?” Liam lifted his chin reservedly, his tone carrying a hint of blame: “You were the one who named him, but you haven’t taken care of him at all these past few days.” He quickly became a bit smug: “Of course I’ve been taking care of him. I’ve been catching fish for him to eat every day.” Nian Nian walked over and rubbed against his leg. Liam frowned, complaining: “Can you stay a little further away? You always get hair all over me.” But his hands familiarly picked it up and placed it on his lap. Nian Nian lay comfortably on him. His black jacket was immediately covered in cat hair, but he didn’t care. Instead, he expertly scratched its chin. I watched from the side, drawing a conclusion in my mind. Turns out he’s a total tsundere. I smiled inwardly and sat on the side holding my fishing rod, but accidentally pricked my hand on a fishhook. I hissed and squeezed my finger, and a bright red bead of blood popped out. Liam immediately put Nian Nian down, took a Band-Aid from the box beside him, and walked over with a frown. “Why are you so careless?” I wanted to take the Band-Aid, but he naturally said: “Give me your hand.” “You’re quite prepared—” I looked up with a smile, but swallowed the rest of my words when I met his gaze. Too close. Without realizing it, we seemed to be too close. The bright orange sunset in the mountains gradually faded into blue, darkening. The wind was trapped in the valley, bringing up damp moisture. I could smell the faint woody scent on Liam, subtly drifting over. I didn’t know if it was cologne or aftershave. His pupils were slightly lighter than most people’s, carrying a kind of inorganic, cold clarity, but right now, they were entirely reflecting me. The wind blew my hair across his face. He just stared at me blankly until Nian Nian meowed impatiently from the side. We snapped back to reality at the same time, abruptly stepping back from each other. Liam quickly turned his head, squatting with his back to me, petting Nian Nian’s back: “Stop calling, I’ll get you some food right away.” I burst out laughing. In the dim light, his ears turned noticeably red, and he sat on the side fishing without saying a word. However, Liam, who was usually very patient, kept fidgeting that night and didn’t catch a single fish the entire time. From that day on, there seemed to be a tacit understanding between us. Whenever he went fishing, he would always invite me, and we would go out at least twice a week. Sometimes in the desolate mountains, sometimes on the boundless ocean, sometimes at a fishery he rented out. But, it was always just the two of us. During this time, I constantly monitored Chloe’s Instagram. Her posts showing off her relationship became fewer and fewer, until eventually, she hadn’t posted a single one for several days. I watched coldly, making sure to present my best state and most exquisite makeup whenever I met her boyfriend during the day. This kind of relationship, where we both knew what was going on but kept playing dumb, fermented until two months later, when I felt the time was ripe. That night, while he was holding Nian Nian, I suddenly spoke up: “Liam, do you have a girlfriend?” 05 Chloe posted on Instagram again. But this time it wasn’t showing off Liam, it was: [Some people are just born cheap, they love eyeing other people’s men. Don’t let me find out who you are.] I leaned against the window, exhaling a puff of smoke, and curled my lips into a smile. Looks like they had a fight. Chloe’s relationship with Liam seemed to have always been a one-sided chase on her part. I had looked through his old blog from his study abroad days and his current Instagram, and there wasn’t a single post about Chloe. A relationship maintained by only one person, now with me added to the mix, had finally become precarious. Liam didn’t answer my question today, but we both knew the silent answer. Neither of us spoke that day; we hastily packed up our gear and went home. But I knew that Liam’s heart was definitely not as calm as his expression right now. However, I couldn’t predict whether things would go well or badly. He might not have much feeling for Chloe, but the Sterling and Vance families have had close business ties for years, and the arranged marriage was no joke. He might have good feelings for me now, but how much could it really be? Could it compare to his career? Sure enough, that same day Liam sent me a text. [I won’t be going fishing anymore. Sorry to have bothered you during this time.] He kept his word and really stopped going fishing. I went to various fishing spots every day, but he seemed to be hiding from me, never showing up again. Nian Nian was gone too. I wanted to adopt him, but I searched the entire nearby area and couldn’t find him. Only his profile picture changed, to a ginger cat lying on a rug, yawning. I zoomed in to look closely. That was Nian Nian. … Half a month later, I posted a photo on my Instagram Story of me holding up a fish with another man. The man was 6’1″, with honey-toned skin, his black tank top stretched tight over bulging pecs, one arm slung around my shoulder, smiling brightly. This was a male model I specifically hired, costing $300 a day. Fishing requires skill; just throwing bait aimlessly won’t catch you the right fish. The next day, when I went back to that pond, a shadow suddenly loomed beside me. I looked up. Liam, his face expressionless, sat in the chair next to me, took out his fishing rod, and cast his line without saying a word. But he didn’t even bait the hook. We sat in silence like that for a long time before he finally spoke, his voice betraying no emotion. “Who was that guy yesterday?” I said lightly: “You already have a girlfriend. What does it have to do with you?” He stopped talking. For the next half hour, I kept catching fish, but Liam didn’t catch a single one. He didn’t seem to realize he hadn’t put bait on, the air pressure around him heavy, lost in his own thoughts. I stood up. Having sat for too long, my legs were numb, and I stumbled, almost falling. Liam instinctively stood up and caught me. The moment our eyes met, he suddenly grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me. It was a completely unromantic scene. Around us were just the two of us, not-so-clever anglers, the fish swimming in the water, and an unromantic kiss. Rather than a kiss, it was more like a duel. His force carried an aggressive edge. I didn’t back down, wrapping my arms around his neck and standing on my tiptoes. I don’t know how long passed, but just as I was oxygen-deprived and almost blacking out, he let me go. I looked up at him, panting: “Liam, I won’t be the other woman.” His under-eyes flushed a dark red. It took him a long time to steady his breathing. “I know.” “I don’t want to make excuses, but I want to be clear with you. She was arranged by my family, and I have no feelings for her. I will make things clear to her. Give me a little time.” … That night, I opened Chloe’s Instagram again. She hadn’t posted anything; it was perfectly quiet. But I knew she definitely wasn’t having a good time right now. Sure enough, late that night, she posted several consecutive, frantic updates, finally ending with a few words. [Just wait. I won’t let this go so easily.]

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My boyfriend had a female “bro.” She talked like a classic pick-me girl, and wore a dress the exact same color as mine. I thought she was a “cool-girl” pick-me. Until that day in the pouring rain, when she carried me on her back for three miles. 01 The first time I met Olivia was at a dinner with Nate’s frat brothers. Before we went, Nate just laughed and said, “Liv? Oh, she’s basically just one of the guys.” The moment I saw her, I was genuinely confused. Olivia’s features were bright and flawless, and she was wearing a soft, elegant white maxi dress. She looked up at me from her stool, two little dimples appearing on her cheeks as she smiled shyly. There was absolutely nothing “one of the guys” about her. Olivia had a slender figure, and the white dress made her look incredibly graceful. I, on the other hand, was a bit chubby, and the color of my dress clashed perfectly with hers. Olivia opened her mouth and the first thing she said was: “What a coincidence, we’re wearing the exact same color.” Yes. Compared to her, I looked like a complete clown. I felt incredibly awkward, but I still reached out my hand to be friendly. “Look at her pretending to be shy. She used to be so violent, she’d chase me down the street to beat me up,” my boyfriend Nate laughed, playfully shoving Olivia’s shoulder. Olivia suddenly jumped up, slapping Nate on the shoulder. Her voice was playful, chirping like a happy little bird: “What kind of nonsense are you talking about!” “See? See? Am I wrong?” Nate laughed, dodging her slaps. I stood frozen in place, my outstretched hand hanging awkwardly in the air. I turned my head and watched my boyfriend roughhousing with her. It felt like— It felt like I was the outsider. My nose stung, and I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to watch them play-fight, and I didn’t want to leave a bad impression of being a jealous girlfriend the first time I met his best friend. Until I heard a loud, resounding smack echo through the room. The moment I opened my eyes. I saw a bright red handprint stamped across my boyfriend’s cheek. Nate’s shocked voice rang out: “Holy shit, did you put your whole arm into that slap?” 02 After getting to know Nate, I slowly got to know Olivia. Whenever Nate mentioned Olivia, his mouth was full of praise. He said Olivia was cheerful and optimistic, a true example of a girl raised with old money. I added Olivia on Snapchat and Instagram. Olivia’s Instagram was filled with photos of her surfing in Hawaii. Her slender figure and radiant energy made her look like a white seagull soaring over the ocean. There were photos of her snowboarding in Aspen, and writing papers in a Parisian cafe wearing chic glasses. With her slender, swan-like neck lowered, she looked gentle and intellectual. Even though I felt a bit sour because of their play-fighting that first time. I couldn’t help but sigh to Nate: “Olivia really is an incredible person.” Nate snatched my phone and said, “Hey, why is her profile public now? She used to have it set to close-friends only.” Nate’s casual remark made my sensitive mind overthink. Why did she suddenly make her profile public right after I added her? As I scrolled through Olivia’s feed, Nate immediately leaned his head close to mine to look. He was highly enthusiastic, constantly urging me to scroll to the next picture. After a few swipes, I suddenly didn’t want to scroll anymore. I was jealous. I asked him, half-joking, half-serious, “Do you have a crush on her?” Nate replied with a goofy grin, “Who wouldn’t like a rich heiress? But don’t worry, she doesn’t date.” “Alright, stop overthinking. If something was going to happen between us, it would have happened years ago.” As he said that, he continued staring intently at Olivia’s photos. I locked my phone screen. Through the dark reflection of the screen. I clearly saw his crestfallen expression. It looked exactly like the disappointment and sorrow of not being able to obtain a coveted treasure. 03 Actually, I had probably heard the name Olivia back in college. The very day Nate accepted my confession. He was drunk, repeatedly mumbling the word “Liv” under his breath. A six-foot-two guy, crying like a dog in the middle of a diner. I heard the friend next to him shove him and say: “Enough, Liv just went abroad to study. She’s not dead.” His friend called me, and I rushed to the diner to pick him up. I half-carried, half-dragged him home. By a planter on the side of the road. He grabbed the hood of my sweatshirt and violently threw up all over me. The Emma from back then was so stupid. My heart and eyes were completely full of him; I didn’t feel an ounce of disgust. The highest level of liking someone is feeling your heart ache for them. With blurry, drunken eyes, he looked up and saw my face full of concern. Nate gripped my wrist incredibly tight. The boy’s eyes burned bright like flames. He said, “You’re the only one who won’t abandon me.” Then, as if granting me a charity, he said: “Let’s be together.” I really, truly loved Nate. I gave him all my sincerity and love. But in Nate’s heart, it seemed… Olivia was always there. It was hard for me not to care. But I never asked too much, and he seemed to have forgotten Olivia. Because of my passionate and sincere love, he began to love me back. Until Olivia returned from abroad, breaking that balance. Even though I minded so much. Olivia seemed to do it on purpose. She started inviting Nate and me out frequently. She was like a bird, proudly and arrogantly diving straight into our lives. 04 Olivia invited Nate and me to play tennis. I didn’t want to go, but I also didn’t want Nate playing alone with her. I pleaded with Nate, “Can you just say no? I don’t know how to play tennis, and I really don’t want to.” “But I want to play,” Nate said, looking at me seriously. “But… if you want to play, you can play with other friends. We don’t have to go to Olivia today.” I stammered out my explanation. Nate’s handsome brow furrowed, looking annoyed: “Just because of you, am I not allowed to have normal recreational activities anymore?” “I never noticed you being this unreasonable before. Why are you so possessive?” I went silent. His impatient tone let me know I couldn’t stop him. I had no choice but to change into activewear and go with him. When we got to the courts, Olivia was wearing a pleated tennis skirt, her high ponytail swishing lightly. She looked like a proud little white bird. Her big, almond eyes widened as she tossed a racket directly to me: “Emma, play with me.” “I’m not very… good at this,” I tried to refuse. My boyfriend chimed in from the sidelines: “Just play with her.” “No, I specifically want to play with Emma,” her eyes curved into smiling crescents. Faced with Olivia’s enthusiasm, I had no choice but to accept. Unsurprisingly, as someone who sucked at sports, I was absolutely decimated by her. I couldn’t return a single serve, my slightly chubby figure running awkwardly across the court. Like a clumsy raccoon. I was getting angry inside. Looking so pathetic in front of my boyfriend. Was she doing this on purpose? In contrast to me, she shone even brighter. Beautiful and athletic, she was simply perfect. Especially after the workout, some strands of hair had come loose, and sweat stuck them to her fair cheeks. She looked like a porcelain doll. When another tennis ball rolled past me onto the ground. I said, “I’m done playing.” Olivia held her racket, smiling at me: “Okay. Let’s go take a break together then.” Then, she put down her racket and redid her hair, which had gotten messy from playing. She deliberately held her hair tie in her mouth, facing my direction as she fixed her hair with her hands. Exposing her fair, swan-like neck. The way she looked with the hair tie in her mouth was incredibly beautiful. Honestly, she looked like an innocent, adorable deer exposing its neck. My heart skipped a beat. But I was absolutely certain she was deliberately showing off her charm. Sure enough, I turned around and saw Nate standing behind me, watching her. Without even blinking. 05 I hated Olivia. I hated the powerless feeling of knowing she was getting closer and closer to my boyfriend, but being unable to do anything about it. I lucidly watched Nate’s appreciation for Olivia become less and less disguised. But when I brought it up, he would just say, “Liv and I are just friends.” “You’re my girlfriend, stop overthinking.” Even though he said that, I had a sinking feeling. I was his backup plan, his safety net. He realized that being with me had the highest ROI. He realized I treated him the best. I was probably just the honest girl settling down with him. Blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil, Olivia continued to invite Nate and me to the movies. She sent a screenshot of the booked tickets. Her seat choices were very interesting. Two seats were together, and the other seat was right in front of them. I had already guessed that I would definitely be the one sitting in the front. While she and Nate got cozy in the back. Olivia even sent a pouty, apologetic emoji on Snapchat: “There were only these three seats left.” I complained inwardly, but since Nate insisted on going, I was absolutely not going to let them be alone together. It was a horror movie, too. I could already picture Olivia pretending to be a fragile, scared girl just to sit with my boyfriend. Stupid pick-me. Sure enough, as soon as we got to the theater entrance, Olivia ran over and grabbed my arm. Her expression was pitiful as she said to me: “You don’t mind, right, Emma?” I really couldn’t hold back my anger anymore. But Olivia’s second sentence choked out my fury: “I’ll sit with Emma. Nate, you sit in the front. You don’t have a problem with that, right?” Huh? Olivia actually wanted to sit with me? That last sentence ended on a rising note, carrying a definite hint of a threat. “Alright, alright, Princess. I thought you needed me to protect you,” Nate said, rubbing his nose, trying to play it off as a joke. Inside the dark theater, only the flickering light of the screen illuminated us. I watched the movie while observing Olivia out of the corner of my eye. American horror movies always rely on jump scares and sudden loud noises to terrify people. I wasn’t scared of horror movies. To be honest, I found the real world depressing enough, so I didn’t fear death, much less the ghosts and monsters that could cause it. But Olivia looked genuinely terrified. Her teeth were biting down hard on her lips, which looked like fresh snow-dusted roses. Her elegant brows were tightly furrowed. Her fingers were trembling unconsciously. Was she really that scared? Little pick-me. A terrifying musical cue played, and she let out a small whimper, her entire body curling up in fear. The sight of her 5’9″ frame curled up in the seat was a bit cute and a bit comical. She literally looked like a startled cat with its fur puffed up. I found it amusing, but my smile quickly faded. Suddenly, a horrifying image flashed on the screen. Olivia seemed completely terrified, her shoulder suddenly leaning into mine. With her soft figure pressing against me, the faint, lingering scent of freesia drifted to my nose. “Emma…” her voice was slightly hoarse, like a kitten’s. “I’m so scared. Hold my hand… please.” Her warm breath tickled my ear. Coupled with her raspy, pleading voice, a shiver ran down my spine. Her body was too close. That lingering, soft freesia scent felt like a hand tickling my heart. I looked down at her innocent, clear eyes as she clung to my waist. They were watery and pleading. Like I was possessed, I held her hand. It was ice-cold and smooth. Nate, sitting in front of us, suddenly turned around at that moment and laughed: “American horror movies aren’t even scary.” I tried to quickly pull my hand away, but she gripped it fiercely. While Nate turned his head to talk. Our hands were tightly intertwined under her jacket. 06 After returning home that night, my heart was pounding. Why did this happen? I felt like something wasn’t quite right. The little pick-me I had pictured in my head was secretly holding my hand. While I was puzzling over this. I discovered that all the money in my and Nate’s joint account had been withdrawn. Looking at the bank notification text, the remaining balance was $5.20. There was a total of $20,000 in there. Of that, $18,000 was money I had scraped together from part-time jobs. Money I saved by tutoring and doing DoorDash deliveries during winter and summer breaks. Nate had said that after graduation, we would move back to my hometown, find jobs, and this would be the startup fund for our new life. He was the dream guy I had fought so hard to get. I always spoiled him. I forgave him when he spent money carelessly and when he didn’t contribute to the couples’ account. I ran to Nate and asked: “Why did you take out all that money? That’s everything I saved up doing DoorDash and tutoring!” “Wow, you say you love me, but the second I spend a little money, you interrogate me,” Nate raised an eyebrow, his handsome face looking annoyed. “No, I just wanted to ask why,” my tone became even more cautious. “It’s Olivia’s birthday soon. She invited us over to celebrate, and I bought her a gift.” “Of course we should get her a gift, but since we’re still just starting out, we didn’t have to buy something that expensive,” I pleaded, looking at Nate. Nate raised an eyebrow, a half-smile on his face: “Do you even know who Olivia is? There will be a ton of rich kids at her party. The average gift will be over ten grand. Do you want me to look like a joke?” Noticing my pale expression, Nate reached out and pulled me into his arms: “Alright, babe. If I look like a joke, you look like a joke. We’re a team. This gift represents both our intentions.” “But…” While I was still hesitating, Nate’s expression turned cold. I was terrified of him throwing a tantrum. When he got mad, he could ignore me for a whole week. I was terrified of the silent treatment. I had no choice but to force a nod and agree. I comforted myself by saying Olivia was a good person, so buying her a gift was the right thing to do! It’s just that— I couldn’t help but remember the times my t-shirt clung to my sweaty back as I climbed six flights of stairs delivering food. I think I was starting to hate Nate a little bit. 07 Before the birthday party, Olivia sent me a dress. It was a champagne-colored mermaid gown, with a small cluster of pale pink roses at the bust. Clothes make the man. I never expected it to fit so perfectly and look so beautiful on me. I was a bit chubby to begin with, and my only redeeming feature was my pale skin. This dress practically magnified my best features and flattered my figure flawlessly. I suddenly felt that those twenty grand were somewhat worth it. I had never been a princess. After putting on this dress, I couldn’t help but twirl in front of the mirror, admiring myself. I felt like a sweet little princess smiling in a rose garden. But Nate, sitting on the sofa, crushed my spirit: “Alright, stop admiring yourself. You’re just there to be a foil for Olivia anyway. I really don’t know why she sent you a dress.” Right after he said that, Nate stopped abruptly. As if realizing something, he stared at me intently. “She sent you a dress, but you still can’t compare to her. But why would she want to compare herself to you…” “Could she be jealous?” I was still lost in the beauty of the dress and didn’t catch the second half of his sentence. I asked him what he just said, and Nate smirked and said, “Nothing.” I hated him now anyway, so I didn’t care what he said. He could say whatever he wanted. Olivia’s driver came to pick us up. The party was at her family’s mansion. Honestly, standing in front of the magnificent mansion, I subconsciously felt a bit intimidated. Nate didn’t even hold my hand. He walked ahead with long strides, seemingly eager to see Olivia. The fountain in front of the villa was already decorated with massive bouquets of roses. I was wearing heels and walking a bit slow, gradually falling behind Nate. I reached out to grab Nate in the distance. Olivia had already opened the door and walked out. She bypassed the smiling Nate and extended her hand toward me, lifting her hem slightly as she approached. She was wearing a champagne-colored tailored suit, with a pink rose pinned to her lapel. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, her eyebrows drawn sharp. She exuded an androgynous, breathtaking beauty. She looked like a proud, elegant white crane. “Welcome.” One of her hands wrapped around my waist, and the other caught my outstretched wrist. Her five slender, pale fingers slipped through the gaps of my fingers like little snakes. The proximity made me uncomfortable, and I quickly pushed her away. “Hey, hey, why are you wearing a suit instead of a dress? You look like a tomboy.” Nate, annoyed by being ignored, hurried over and casually slapped Olivia on the shoulder. Olivia, who had been wearing a warm, radiant smile, let the corners of her mouth drop slightly. She said what sounded like a joke: “Touch me with that pig trotter again, and I’ll chop it off.” After saying that, she winked in my direction—a playful and proud little white crane. Okay, okay. Wearing the same color clothes as me again. Ready to compete for male attention again. 08 Olivia’s birthday dinner wasn’t overly extravagant, just a dozen or so people gathered around eating exquisite dishes. The only thing to celebrate was that this meal consisted entirely of things I had never eaten before. Lobster, foie gras, caviar. I ate until I was stuffed. While I was gorging myself, I saw Olivia resting her elbows on the table, watching me with a melting smile, bright as the moon through the branches. Great, she definitely wanted to laugh at me for eating too much. Nate noticed Olivia’s gaze and gave me a subtle pinch. His expression was cold and stern; the subtext was telling me not to embarrass him. I sheepishly wiped my mouth, sat back in my seat, and sipped my wine idly. After the party, the guests all drove away. Olivia’s hair was a bit messy. She had drank quite a bit, and her gaze stuck to me like syrup. Her stare made me incredibly uncomfortable, and I quickly looked for an excuse to leave. But Olivia’s voice rang out: “It’s too late. Just stay over here tonight.” “Sure.” Before I could even speak, Nate accepted for me. “Then Emma and I will stay on the first floor. Nate, you can take the second floor,” Olivia said with a smile. I whispered to Nate, “I want to go home. My head hurts.” Since the party started, I had a headache and felt chills all over. Nate shot me a look. “Just lie down for a bit and you’ll be fine. You’re so high maintenance.” I didn’t know how to drive, so I had no choice but to stay at Olivia’s house. I climbed into bed, wrapping the blankets tightly around me. My body was starting to burn up. At Olivia’s house, I felt too embarrassed to bother her. I wanted to tough it out until tomorrow. I tossed and turned in bed, falling into a groggy, half-awake state. The room was quiet and dark. A massive clap of thunder suddenly lit up the entire room. I realized my body was already burning like a small furnace. It felt like boiling heat radiating from my very bones. I forced myself to try and get up. I needed to find Olivia for some ibuprofen. I wouldn’t make it to tomorrow like this. I was acutely and painfully aware of this fact. I tried to climb out of bed, took two steps, my legs gave out, and I crashed to the floor. The thud pierced the silence of the night. Then my door was gently pushed open. The lightning outside illuminated the person standing in the doorway. Accompanied by the pouring rain. I clearly saw that it was Olivia. The lightning illuminated the distance between us as she walked toward me, step by step, her eyes deep and dark. Her hands were icy cold as she touched my forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me your fever was this bad?” “I was afraid… of bothering you.” I stammered due to being sick, my voice low. “I just moved into this mansion, I haven’t stocked up on medicine yet. I’m taking you to the ER.” “Thank you…” Those slender hands gripped my waist, and then, she scooped me up effortlessly into a tight embrace. 09 She put a raincoat on me, and I let her maneuver me in my hazy state. I even forgot to ask for Nate. Afraid I’d get wet, she secured the hood and put a mask on me. My mind was a chaotic mess, but somehow, I said to her: “Happy… birthday. Olivia.” Her body stiffened. She leaned down, her warm breath hitting my ear. “Why didn’t you say it during the dinner party? Everyone else did. Why did you hide in the corner?” My brain was a tangled mess, but I vaguely remembered. Ah. It was because I was too intimidated. She stood there so radiantly, many people raising their glasses to her. I inexplicably shrank back. But I still remembered I had to wish her a happy birthday. So I took advantage of now, while we were alone together. I said it out loud. “Emma, you idiot.” Suddenly, a shiver shot up my spine from my tailbone. I almost convulsed. I felt my earlobe being taken into someone’s mouth and gently bitten. Cold and gentle. In my dazed state, I was carried into the car and fell asleep in the backseat. I don’t know how much time passed. When I opened my eyes again, I was clinging to Olivia’s back. In my ears was the drumbeat of torrential rain, and before my eyes was a stretching, dark gray highway. The pitch-black night was illuminated only by pools of warm yellow streetlights, which seemed to wrap around her and me. I instinctively grabbed Olivia’s shoulders. “Olivia, put me down. I can walk.” “The rain is too heavy. The car stalled halfway. It’s three miles left, and the hospital is just down the hill.” “Be a good girl, stay still.” “No, you’re so skinny, how can you carry me! I’m heavy, put me down, I can walk myself.” “You’re burning up like a little fireball, how could I let you walk.” Her voice rose, filled with unquestionable resolve. But then, afraid of scaring me, she lowered her voice to coax me: “I work out, carrying you is nothing. Be good, hold on tight, we’ll be there soon.” I had no idea how someone so thin could have so much strength. She carried me, trudging solidly through the pouring rain for three miles. Seeing her afraid I’d get wet, she had draped her raincoat over me. She wore a windbreaker, and the raindrops smashed against her clothes with loud smacks. Some raindrops slid down her forehead and fell from her hair. Falling like a string of pearls. I couldn’t tell if it was rain or my tears anymore. I said: “Put me down, I can walk.” She said: “Silly Emma, how could I bear to let you suffer.” 10 Because of the time Olivia took me to the hospital, I was incredibly grateful. I swore I would never call her a toxic pick-me again. I started actively inviting Olivia over to our place. I humbly and earnestly, blushing, asked Nate for his permission. Nate looked at me with an expression that said finally, you’re being reasonable. Nate was exceptionally eager that day. He ran out to buy Olivia’s favorite groceries, saying he was going to show off his cooking skills. Even though we had lived together for so long, he rarely cooked for me. But I didn’t care anymore. Olivia showed up that day carrying a few bottles of red wine. She smiled and said, “These are from my family’s vineyard in France. We’ll open a bottle to taste with dinner.” Nate was wearing an apron, cooking in the kitchen. Olivia and I sat on the rug watching TV. Thinking about how she carried me to the hospital, I sincerely thanked her: “Thank you, Liv. Without you, my fever would have fried my brain.” Olivia cast a casual glance toward the kitchen, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. Her clear eyes watched me, holding what seemed like a rippling little spring, emotions gently undulating like ripples. From the kitchen came the loud sizzle and pop of cooking. It sounded like Nate had already fired up the wok. In an instant, Olivia leaned over me. She dropped to one knee, her hands planted on the rug, completely caging me in. Olivia’s face was quite striking, like a western version of Anne Hathaway. She tilted her head slightly, looking at me like a highly excited cat that had just caught its prey. “This is how you can thank me.” Her lips conquered mine like an invading army. Rather than a kiss, I’d call it a ravaging. Bastard, how did she know how to—how did she know how to use tongue? I tried to push her away, but I couldn’t move her at all. This was absolutely not a peaceful, moonlight-gentle kiss. It was like two wild beasts tearing into each other in the wilderness, branding each other with their mark. The cooking noises in the kitchen crackled and popped. Olivia and I kissed until the world spun. “My tongue is very agile, isn’t it.” Her voice was husky, carrying a bewitching edge. She was so skinny, her chest completely flat. Pressed against mine, it actually hurt. We desperately explored each other’s secrets, urgent, fierce, passionate. Suddenly— The cooking noises in the kitchen stopped. Olivia and I quickly separated. Olivia casually picked up a sparkling water from the table and took a sip. I wiped my lips and started fiddling with a plushie on the table. Sure enough, when people are nervous, they look for something to do. Nate walked out carrying dishes. Seeing us, he smiled and said: “You guys must be hungry. Dinner’s ready.”

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It was crawfish season again. I pulled up my ex’s contact and texted him: “Get back together?” He replied: “No, I’m seeing someone new.” “Stop using these childish tricks to try and win me back. It’s stupid.” I slowly typed back: “Oh.” “Then do you and your new girl want some crawfish?” 01 “I’m downstairs at your apartment.” I spoke quietly into the phone. “I brought fifteen pounds of crawfish.” The sound on the other end of the line abruptly stopped. Caleb seemed to be in disbelief, or maybe he just thought the whole thing was absurd. Then I heard him take a deep breath. Lowering his voice, he asked through gritted teeth, “What did you just say?” “Repeat what you just said to me!” I hadn’t realized Caleb was already going deaf at such a young age. I paused, then quietly repeated myself: “That crawfish place we always go to is running a special. Buy five pounds, get two free.” “And so you bought ten pounds?!” Caleb’s voice suddenly spiked. Even through the phone, I could hear him losing his mind. “Maya, are you crazy?!” I silently pulled the phone a little further away from my ear. I waited a good while. After Caleb seemed to have calmed down slightly on his end, I brought the phone back and carefully asked, “So, do you and your new girl want to eat some crawfish?” “Get lost!” Caleb roared his final sentence into the receiver and hung up cleanly. I stood downstairs outside his apartment complex, holding the massive bags of crawfish. I looked up at the floor where he lived and let out a deep sigh. Well, this was a disaster. I’d calculated everything, but I hadn’t calculated that Caleb would have a new girlfriend. I had no idea how long it would take me to peel these fifteen pounds of crawfish by myself. I sat on the planter outside Caleb’s building for a while, feeling a bit lost. For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. I opened my contact list, wondering who I could ask to help me polish off this mountain of food. But at this hour, everyone had just finished dinner. They wouldn’t have the stomach space. I sighed again, stood up, and grabbed the four huge bags, preparing to head to the complex entrance to call an Uber. I hadn’t walked far when I bumped into Caleb. His face was ashen. I had no idea when he’d come downstairs. He stood stiffly in front of me. He didn’t speak; he just stared at me coldly, staring inexplicably for a long time. I blinked, hoisted the bags of crawfish, and asked, “Fresh out of the pot. Want some?” Caleb’s face was dark. He took two bags from my hands and turned to leave without saying a single word. “Wait a second!” I couldn’t help but call out to stop him. Caleb turned sideways to look at me. His lips were pressed tightly together, but his eyebrows raised slightly. Caleb and I had been together for four years. I knew all his little habits intimately. You could say I knew him too well. He didn’t even need to speak for me to know what he was trying to convey. Just like right now. He wanted to say, “Spit it out, I don’t have all night.” But he was too lazy to open his mouth. A cold stare and a raised eyebrow were enough for me to understand. I paused for a moment, then quietly said, “Five pounds of crawfish is thirty-five dollars.” Caleb’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. I met his gaze in silence. After a long moment, I heard Caleb let out a cold laugh. “Fine! Fine!” “Maya, you really are something else!” “If I ever pay any attention to you again, I’m a dog!” After Caleb Venmo’d me the money, he didn’t look at me again and quickly walked away. Before he left, I saw him angrily kick a trash can on the street. The trash can sustained minor injuries; Caleb sustained major ones. He curled in on himself for a second in pain. But he insisted on acting like nothing happened, limping away into the distance. 02 That night, Caleb, who rarely posted on Instagram, suddenly uploaded a story. In the video, he was meticulously peeling an entire bowl full of crawfish meat. Then, he pushed the bowl in front of a pretty girl wearing a breezy top and light-ash-brown hair. The moment the girl smiled, puckered her lips, and leaned in, the video abruptly ended. I silently liked the video, then turned off my phone screen and stared blankly at the crawfish in my hands. Actually, I had thought about Caleb getting a new girlfriend. I just didn’t expect that day to come so quickly. When we broke up, Caleb’s eyes had been red. He’d bitten his lip hard and said to me through clenched teeth, “Maya, if you dare find another man, I will haunt you even as a ghost!” Caleb said he would wait for me forever. I believed him. But six months later, he had a new girlfriend. I silently ate a piece of the crawfish I’d peeled by hand. It tasted a bit sour and bitter. It used to be so delicious. Caleb and I would go eat it so many times every summer. But eating it today, I felt the taste was off. Something was always missing. I silently opened my chat with Caleb, wanting to ask him if the crawfish tasted different this time. But just as I finished typing the message, I realized something. Caleb seemed to have a new girlfriend. It probably wasn’t a good idea for an ex like me to keep bothering him. I slowly deleted the text in the chat box, letter by letter. Just as I deleted the last word, I saw that Caleb’s profile picture, which hadn’t changed in years, had updated. It was now a picture of that girl with the light-ash-brown hair. The next second, I saw a message from Caleb pop up: “Let’s just delete each other.” “I’m worried my girlfriend will get upset.” I didn’t reply. I stared at those two sentences for a long time. I wanted to reply “Okay,” but I was afraid I’d get the red exclamation mark showing I’d been blocked. I thought about it for a long time. I didn’t reply, nor did I block or delete Caleb. Whatever. He had definitely already deleted me anyway. Whether I deleted him or not didn’t really matter. I silently spat out the crawfish meat in my mouth, losing my appetite for the remaining six pounds. I went to the kitchen to wash my hands. When I came out, a text message popped up on my phone screen. I glanced at it casually and saw it was from Caleb. It just said: “Test.” It was a random, out-of-context message, and it was immediately “unsent” with blazing speed. I was confused and sent a question mark back. The next second, a red exclamation mark popped up in the chat box. Message Not Delivered. This time, Caleb had truly blocked me. I held my phone in silence for a long time. Ten minutes later, after some thought, I sent a message to the account that had blocked me: “Well, I guess I can move on too.” I hit send, and it went through successfully. There was no red exclamation mark in front of the sentence. I froze for a moment, then belatedly realized what had happened. Caleb hadn’t deleted me. He had just blocked me, then unblocked me a moment later. Caleb’s status showed “typing…” for a long time. He typed for ages before I finally saw him send: “Oh.” “Suit yourself.” I looked at those words, my eyelashes trembling slightly. I tapped on his profile picture and stared at it for a while, then pursed my lips and deleted him from my contacts. It was just like eating too much crawfish; it’s bad for your body. Caleb had a girlfriend now. It was time for me to look forward, too. 03 I was thinking very clearly. So, at work, when the nice lady from accounting asked again if she could introduce her younger brother to me, I didn’t smile and change the subject to decline like I usually did. Instead, I smiled and said, “Sure! Give me his number!” “We can get to know each other first.” That same day, I added Julian—no, wait, I can’t use that name. I added Liam’s contact info and sent a simple greeting. The other party didn’t seem to have much interest in chatting. I’m not the type to force a conversation on someone who’s giving me the cold shoulder, either. After two or three awkward exchanges, the conversation died. I figured Liam probably wouldn’t initiate contact again. I didn’t expect his sister to like me so much! That day after work, she asked her brother to pick her up. Then she found an excuse to treat me to dinner. She brought me and Liam to a restaurant, and then immediately claimed she had to use the restroom and disappeared, leaving Liam and me staring at each other awkwardly. It was our first time meeting, and we were both a bit embarrassed, unsure of what to say. “I’m actually not that hungry,” I hesitated for a moment, then suggested quietly, “How about we just leave?” Liam nodded hastily, agreeing completely. But just as Liam and I were about to get up and leave, the waiter started bringing out food. That’s when I realized that before his sister left, she hadn’t just thoughtfully ordered for us—she had also paid the bill! Now it felt really rude not to eat. Liam sat back down, rubbing his temples, and looked at me helplessly. “Sorry about this. My sister’s antics are sometimes so frustrating.” I burst out laughing and said, “It’s fine. I actually think she’s a great person with a great personality.” Liam looked at me in disbelief. After a long silence, he replied, “I finally know why she likes you so much.” “No wonder she’s always going on and on in my ear about how great you are.” “She’s talked about it so much my ears are bleeding.” I blinked, intrigued, wanting to know what his sister had said about me. Once that topic came up, Liam wasn’t tired or awkward anymore. He perked up, determined to spill some tea about his sister. I listened and laughed, and the two of us slowly started getting along really well. Just as Liam and I were hitting it off, a cold laugh came from above our heads. “Heh.” I looked up and met Caleb’s mocking expression. “What a coincidence. Your new boyfriend?” I paused, momentarily unsure of how to explain. But Caleb didn’t seem to need my explanation. He just stared at me fixedly, gritting his teeth as he enunciated every word: “This restaurant is full.” “Mind if my girlfriend and I sit with you guys?” 04 Without waiting for me or Liam to decline, Caleb had already brought his girlfriend over and sat down at our table as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I had been afraid Caleb was here to start trouble, but it turned out he really did just want to share the table. After sitting down, he didn’t look at me again. Instead, he leaned his head close to the girl beside him and started ordering food on his phone. When he saw an interesting dish, Caleb would lean into her ear and whisper something, quickly eliciting low giggles from her. She leaned into Caleb’s chest, laughing non-stop. The two of them looked exceptionally intimate and sweet, making Liam and me look a bit awkward in comparison. Especially when Caleb occasionally looked up and his gaze swept over Liam sitting next to me. His eyes were not exactly friendly. Liam, sitting beside me, was given several hard looks by Caleb. Feeling a bit awkward, he couldn’t help but send me a text: “Are these your friends?” I had no intention of hiding anything, so I replied concisely: “Yeah, the guy is my ex.” “The girl next to him should be his current girlfriend.” Talk about a showdown between the ex and the current! Liam looked down at the message, and for a moment, he couldn’t hold it back. He almost choked on the lemon water in his mouth, nearly spraying it everywhere. Caleb didn’t hesitate at all; he immediately shielded his girlfriend. I quickly grabbed some napkins and handed them to Liam, terrified he was actually going to spit water everywhere. “I’m fine.” Liam clumsily tried to take the napkins I offered, but accidentally grabbed my hand instead. The next second, as if my hand had burned him, he hastily let go, his face flushing bright red. “Sorry.” Liam turned his head and apologized somewhat bashfully near my ear. I turned my head, intending to say something to him as well, but as soon as I looked up, I caught sight of the tips of his ears, which were tinged with red. Because we were so close, I could even clearly see the lingering blush on Liam’s cheeks and the fine peach fuzz on his face. I had meant to say it was fine, but what came out of my mouth was: “I didn’t expect you to be so shy.” “Have you never dated before?” Otherwise, why would he blush so furiously just from simply brushing a girl’s hand? Liam suddenly started coughing violently again, his entire face turning beet red. I quickly handed him some water and patted his back to help him catch his breath. After fussing for a good while, Liam finally recovered. He gave me a somewhat resentful look, and I couldn’t help but let out a muffled laugh. At the exact second I laughed, there was a sudden, loud CRASH of glass shattering on the floor nearby, startling Liam and me. I instinctively turned to look and saw only shards of glass scattered across the floor, along with Caleb’s expressionless face. Meeting the gazes of Liam and me, Caleb pulled his hand back, lowered his eyes, and said in a completely flat voice: “Sorry, my hand slipped.” 05 “Sorry about that. Scared you guys, huh?” Caleb gave Liam a long, hard look and said with a fake smile: “Let me order you a steak to make up for it.” “No need, no need. We’re both full.” Liam hastily and politely declined. But Caleb completely ignored him. He stubbornly called the waiter over and added a steak and four desserts to our order, managing everything for us without asking. Liam watched his actions, raised an eyebrow, and turned his head as if he wanted to say something to me. But before he could speak, he was interrupted by Caleb next to him. “You two don’t look very compatible,” Caleb said, staring at Liam with that fake smile. “How did you guys end up together?” “Mind telling me?” Three sentences, every single one laced with thorns. It also carried a heavy air of condescension. It was incredibly uncomfortable to hear. Even someone with a good temper like Liam couldn’t help but frown. I sighed, patted Liam’s arm to signal him to stay calm, turned around, and calmly said to Caleb, “Our business doesn’t seem to have anything to do with you.” “We don’t need the steak. We’re full, so we’re going to leave.” I stood up, taking Liam with me, gave Caleb’s girlfriend a slow smile, and said softly, “Enjoy your meal.” With that, I pulled Liam to leave, but Caleb’s face darkened, and he yelled coldly, “Did I say you could leave?” I ignored him, but halfway there, Liam’s arm was suddenly grabbed hard by Caleb, freezing him in place. “You running away the second there’s trouble? You run pretty fast for a guy. Are you even a man?” Liam’s brow furrowed tightly. He was clearly angered by Caleb’s words. But Liam could also see that I didn’t want to stay here any longer. He suppressed his anger, forcefully shook off Caleb’s hand, and strode to catch up with me. Neither of us paid Caleb any attention, which made his face grow darker and darker, looking like a thundercloud about to burst. To the point that, when Liam and I were almost out of the restaurant, Caleb suddenly slammed his hand hard on the table. After drawing the attention of everyone in the restaurant, he gritted his teeth and yelled at Liam: “Hey, Carter!” (Wait, the instructions said no Chinese surnames. I’ll use a placeholder). “Hey, Liam!” “You’re with Maya, right? Did she ever tell you that she was sexually assaulted?” Liam’s body went stiff, and my footsteps abruptly halted. I froze in place. In that instant, the gazes of everyone in the restaurant seemed to land on me. I closed my eyes tightly, hearing the sound of whispers behind me. My fingertips trembled, and I pinched my palms as hard as I could, trying to ignore the suffocating feeling spreading from my heart. “She didn’t dare tell you, did she?” Caleb let out a mocking smile and walked toward us step by step, until he stood right in front of me. “If she won’t tell you, how about I give you the details?” “After all, you guys are together now.” Caleb stood firm in front of me, his gaze fixed on Liam, full of provocation. “I just wonder, will you still like her after hearing this!” “Shut your filthy mouth!” Liam was tense all over. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his eyes locked onto Caleb in a death stare, as if he would punch him in the face if Caleb said one more word. Caleb wasn’t afraid; he laughed instead, raising his voice again: “We’re both men here. Everyone knows how it is. What are you pretending for?” “Then tell me. I want to hear it.” A sudden sentence interrupted Caleb’s mockery and stopped Liam from throwing a punch. When Caleb heard the voice clearly, he violently turned his head to look at me. The moment he saw the calm expression on my face, a flash of panic crossed his eyes. He couldn’t maintain his expression, but he still asked me: “What did you just say?!” “I said, I’ve almost forgotten about it. Since you remember it so clearly, why don’t you say it out loud so I can hear it too?” I repeated it expressionlessly. As my words fell, the ridiculous expression on Caleb’s face instantly froze. At this moment, he seemed to finally realize that while he was using these words to sting Liam, I, the person it actually happened to, was standing right in front of them. “Maya!” Caleb couldn’t say anything else. After holding it in for a long time, he only managed to choke out my name. He panicked and reached out to grab me. I watched him in silence until Caleb’s hand stopped stiffly just inches from my skin. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.” Caleb, his face pale white, tried to explain. I didn’t want to hear explanations. I just asked: “Aren’t you going to say it?” “I won’t say it!” Caleb answered loudly without hesitation. His voice was sharp, as if he were swearing an oath. He hurriedly added, “How could I possibly say it? You know me!” “I could never hurt you! I didn’t mean it like that!” The more Caleb explained, the more panicked he became. He was frantically scratching his head and ears, so panicked he looked like he was about to cry. I watched him go crazy in silence. Before turning to leave, I gave him a long, deep look, parted my lips slightly, and left him with only one word: “Coward.” He dared to do it but didn’t dare to own up to it. If Caleb wasn’t a coward, what was he? I spoke calmly, turned, and walked away. As I stepped out of the restaurant doors, I heard a heavy, muffled thud of something being thrown to the floor inside. 06 After coming out of the restaurant, I stared blankly up at the sky. Only then did I realize that it had started drizzling at some point. The rain wasn’t heavy, just a fine mist hitting my face, bringing a bit of a chill. I hadn’t brought an umbrella. I sighed and prepared to run to the subway station in the rain. But just as I was about to dash out, my arm was suddenly grabbed. I looked back and met Liam’s face, who was trying hard to stay calm. “Where are you going?” “It’s dangerous walking in the rain right now. Don’t walk around alone. Where do you want to go? I’ll go with you.” “It’s not dangerous in this weather,” I replied silently. It was just a light drizzle. There wasn’t even any wind or lightning. But Liam refused to let go, still gripping my arm tightly. I frowned and was about to explain further, but I paused when I saw the panicked expression on Liam’s face and how his fingertips were trembling slightly as he held me. I suddenly, belatedly realized. Liam seemed to be worried that something would happen to me. After realizing this, the emotions I had barely managed to calm down suddenly began to surge wildly. My heart gave a heavy thud, bringing with it a hint of sourness that spread through my whole body. “I’m fine,” I tried to smile and explain to him. “I just want to run to the subway station and take the train home.” Liam frowned, his suspicious gaze falling on my face, looking completely unconvinced. “I’m really fine!” I gently pried his fingers off my arm, gave him a reassuring smile, and explained with a normal expression, “What he said is a fact. I have nothing to be angry about.” I couldn’t deny the fact that I had been sexually assaulted when I was a teenager. Just as I couldn’t deny that Caleb and I had truly had an unforgettable relationship. It just ended up as a chaotic mess, leaving behind nothing but a floor covered in feathers. “Think on the bright side,” I patted his shoulder and said with a smile. “At least I was only assaulted, not murdered. That’s a silver lining, isn’t it?” Liam was so shocked by my words that he was almost struck dumb. He probably never expected that I seemed to have no trauma from this tragic past, and could even calmly bring it up to comfort someone else. “When I was eighteen, I might have been so ashamed I’d want to die if he ripped off my scars in public like that.” “But I’m twenty-eight now.” I explained: “I know very well that what happened wasn’t my fault.” “The person who should really be so ashamed they want to die shouldn’t be me.” Actually, I was just a little confused. I paused for a moment. Caleb’s face inexplicably popped into my mind, and I clenched my fists tightly. I just didn’t understand why Caleb had turned out like this. Before, when I was on the verge of a mental breakdown, Caleb had gripped my hand tightly and told me firmly, over and over again: “Maya, it’s not your fault. We aren’t going to cry!” But in the blink of an eye, he had morphed into that mocking face, yelling loudly in front of everyone: “Did you know Maya was sexually assaulted?” I lowered my eyes, unconsciously pressing my hand against my aching heart, trying to make myself feel less miserable. Liam looked at me deeply for a long time, his expression complex. After a long while, I finally felt the hand holding mine slowly let go. “You’re right!” Liam’s voice was hoarse, but he spoke firmly. “It wasn’t your fault! The person who truly deserves to die is someone else!” I snapped out of my daze and blinked at him. Liam stared at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, then said to me with a hoarse voice, “I left something in the restaurant. I need to go back and get it. Wait here for a second, okay?” 07 I paused, not having had time to react before Liam had already taken off running back inside. A few minutes later, his hair and clothes were a bit messy, and he came out panting, holding an umbrella. He flashed me a huge smile and said, “Let’s go! I’ll take you home!” I thought it would have been fine for him to just walk me to the subway, no need to take me all the way back. Because I remembered his house was in the opposite direction of mine. Liam was unexpectedly insistent. When I said it wasn’t necessary, he just murmured his agreement. But in reality, he just stood right behind me, not moving an inch. I couldn’t talk him out of it, and I had no choice but to let him walk me all the way to my front door. Since he was already at my door, I felt it would be a bit rude not to invite him in for a glass of water. As soon as I asked him, Liam seemed to think of something. His face instantly turned red. He scratched his head and stuttered, “Uh, maybe next time. Coming in empty-handed now doesn’t seem right.” “Huh? But I live alone,” I silently explained, not understanding his train of thought. But my explanation made things worse. As soon as I said it, Liam’s face turned even redder. No matter how I invited him, he stubbornly stood at the door talking to me, not daring to come in, and his gaze didn’t even dare to dart inside. I really had no choice but to go inside, pour a glass of water, and let him drink it at the door. Liam didn’t stay long. After he left, I closed the door, preparing to take the glass back to the kitchen. But after I’d taken just two steps, there was a sudden knock on the door again. “Did you forget something?” I asked as I opened the door. The next second, I heard a familiar mocking voice from above my head. “Who forgot something? Your new lover?” “What, you’ve only known him for how long, and you’re already bringing him home?” Caleb gritted his teeth. His voice was flippant, carrying a thick undertone of humiliation. “Maya, how come I never noticed before? Are you that desperate for a man? You can’t stand it for a few days without one?” I looked up. The second I met Caleb’s eyes, I violently swung my arm and slapped him across the face with all my might! Caleb’s head whipped to the side from the force. He kept his head lowered, pushed his tongue against his numb cheek, and let out an inexplicable laugh.

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