Category: English

  • The $100,000 Wedding Crash

    On the morning of my wedding, the makeup artist looked around the luxury hotel suite. Suddenly, she completely scrapped the elegant bridal look we had previously agreed upon and painted my face into a disaster. My fiancĆ© laughed and asked her, “What, are you trying to make me marry a clown?” It turned out, the expensive makeup artist was my fiancé’s ex-girlfriend. Seeing their deeply familiar banter, I wiped off the makeup and called off the wedding right then and there. Carter tried to stop me, but Sierra suddenly stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. That was when I noticed that underneath her surgical mask, she had already done her own makeup to absolute perfection. She wasn’t just here to ruin my look. She was here to steal the groom. I raised an eyebrow. Stealing the groom means you have to take over the whole package. The $100,000 final bill for this luxury wedding reception was supposed to be paid in full by the bride’s family. Let’s see if she can take over that, too. 01 Last night, our two families stayed up late finalizing the details of the wedding. I barely got any sleep. Today, I had to wake up at the crack of dawn. So, when the makeup artist arrived to greet me, I was still groggy. The moment she walked in, she began evaluating the hotel suite. When her eyes landed on the diamond bridal set and the expensive heirloom jewelry laid out on the table, her hands paused over her makeup kit. “Wow, Lauren. Your fiancĆ© must treat you so well! Booking such a high-end hotel for the wedding, preparing such a stunning diamond set… You’re the envy of everyone!” “Must have been incredibly expensive, right? You’re so lucky to have found a man who is so generous with his money.” Hearing this, a wave of annoyance washed over me. Every single expense for this wedding was paid for by my family. She didn’t know the first thing about our arrangement, yet she assumed it was the groom’s money. But I didn’t feel the need to explain myself to a stranger. I just nodded and let it go. Suddenly, she unzipped her makeup bag aggressively and looked at me with a half-smile. “Lauren, why do you think women these days love stealing things that belong to other people?” “Are they just born desperate?” Honestly, hearing those unprovoked, bizarre comments, I was getting angry. But it was too late to find a replacement makeup artist. After she applied the foundation, I drifted off to sleep. I kept my eyes closed to rest while she worked. After all, she was a senior stylist from a reputable salon. I wasn’t worried about her stealing my jewelry. I figured if she needed me to open my eyes or adjust anything, she would communicate with me. But when I finally opened my eyes, the stranger in the mirror made me jump. Frowning, I was just about to ask what on earth she was doing. I was already calculating how to demand compensation from her salon for such a massive blunder. But when I looked at her, the makeup artist was looking down, desperately trying to hold back her laughter. Her shoulders were shaking uncontrollably, as if she were looking at the most hilarious joke in the world. A cold realization began to sink in. This was entirely intentional. I hadn’t done anything to offend her. As I frowned, trying to figure out why she would sabotage me, someone walked into the room. The moment my eyes shifted, the girl couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst out laughing. “Hahaha!” Still laughing, she ran and hid behind Carter, who had just walked through the door. Her small hands gripped the back of his suit jacket. “I’m… I’m sorry, Carter! I didn’t mean to laugh!” “I just didn’t expect Lauren’s face to be so… uniquely suited for this kind of makeup!” With that, she covered her face, giggling uncontrollably. Watching my ridiculous reflection, I realized her hiding behind Carter was laced with pure malice. And hearing her call him “Carter” with such intimacy… the bad feeling in my gut skyrocketed. My intuition is rarely wrong. This girl knew Carter. And they were close. I didn’t want to assume the worst, but I turned to Carter, my brow furrowed. “What is the meaning of this?” “You two know each other? What kind of stunt is this? Is today a wedding or a circus act?” Carter looked at my face and froze for a second. He helplessly looked back at the girl hiding behind him, yet he didn’t utter a single word of reprimand. My initial frustration was instantly extinguished by a bucket of ice water. Carter casually leaned against a chair, looking at the girl with total familiarity. “You were doing just fine the last few times. Why are you dropping the ball today?” “What, are you trying to make me marry a clown?” He looked at her, amused. The girl shrank her neck playfully, stuck her tongue out, and made a face. “You asked me to do your bride’s makeup. I can’t be that generous.” After saying that, she shot me a mocking half-smile. She was waiting for me to make a fool of myself. I picked up my phone and scrolled for my backup makeup artist’s number. “Make her apologize to me.” “I’m calling someone else to redo this. Whenever it’s fixed, that’s when I’ll go downstairs.” “We can discuss her compensation to me later.” I didn’t even care how they knew each other right now. Today was my wedding day. My parents had invited important business partners and associates. I wasn’t going to let things fall apart at the last minute. Carter and I had met through a mutual setup. I came from a wealthy, established family. Carter’s background wasn’t great. He grew up in a single-parent household, raised entirely by his mother. He was capable, though, and had good career prospects. But in this expensive metropolitan city, he still had no house and no car. Even with a decent salary, he wasn’t exactly a hot commodity in the local dating market. I chose him because I valued his ambition, his looks, and his potential. But to my surprise, hearing my demands, Carter frowned. He reached out and pushed my phone down. “Is that really necessary?” “You just naturally look like that.” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. 02 The girl heard him and let out a sweet, delighted giggle. “Carter, you can’t talk to a girl like that!” “After all this time, you’re still so brutally honest!” Even if I were an idiot, I could tell this girl’s relationship with Carter was far from simple. She was likely an ex. But if I couldn’t recognize his ex, couldn’t he? From choosing the salon to the trial runs to finalizing the look, Carter had been with me every step of the way. Since he never brought it up, was he trying to give his ex some business, or were there still lingering feelings? I didn’t want to dig into it. It was just going to make me sick. I grabbed a bottle of makeup remover, walked straight into the bathroom, and scrubbed my face clean. Then I called my parents and told them I needed to reconsider the wedding. If I went through with this today, I knew I would regret it. We hadn’t signed the marriage license yet anyway. I didn’t avoid the two of them when I made the call. Carter heard every word. His face instantly darkened. The breezy, amused expression he had worn vanished into a storm cloud. He opened his mouth to speak, but a pair of soft, delicate hands grabbed him. The girl wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. “Carter! If Lauren doesn’t want to marry you, I will!” “Propose to me right now!” “Didn’t you promise me before that I was the only woman you’d ever marry?” With that, right in front of me, she stood on her toes and kissed his lips. But I didn’t miss it—when her eyes flicked toward the diamond set and the expensive jewelry on the table, they were filled with pure greed. Carter stiffened. He turned his head slightly, his eyes flashing with a mix of struggle and conflict. When he finally spoke, his tone carried a mix of guilt and a strange, subconscious thrill that he didn’t even try to hide. He looked at me. “Let Sierra stand in for you today and clean up this mess.” “You will still be my wife in the end. Don’t worry.” “Go downstairs and tell your parents. Don’t make a scene and embarrass everyone.” “But of course, you can throw a fit if you want.” Carter was absolutely certain that I would swallow my pride for the sake of my parents’ reputation. He knew today’s guest list was filled with my family’s prestigious network. After delivering his ultimatum, he grabbed Sierra’s hand to leave. I finally remembered her name: Sierra Jenkins. Sierra looked at me with triumphant arrogance. She stared me down, her lips curling into a silent, provocative smirk. She looked like she had just won the lottery. That was when I noticed that beneath her mask, she had already applied flawless, stunning makeup. Compared to the clownish mess she put on my face, it was night and day. Even her hair was already styled in the exact elegant updo I had requested for myself. Oh, this was premeditated. “Sorry, Lauren. I just didn’t want to leave any regrets in my life!” “If you want to go to my salon and file a complaint, be my guest!” Seeing her utterly shameless attitude, my anger peaked. 03 There’s no denying that Sierra pissed me off. But I knew getting angry wouldn’t solve the problem. When I went downstairs and told my parents what happened, they were in utter disbelief. They hurriedly excused themselves from the guests and pulled me aside. Seeing that I was dead set against marrying Carter, my parents sighed, looking guilty. “Sweetheart, we had no idea the Hayes boy was this unreliable!” “We thought he was a good kid, worth investing in. Looks like we were wrong!” “Forget it! Lauren Blake doesn’t need to beg a guy like Carter Hayes for anything!” I breathed a sigh of relief. I had been worried my parents wouldn’t agree. The guests were all high-profile figures. I was afraid my sudden cancellation would humiliate them. My parents had originally planned to use this wedding to introduce Carter to their elite network. Looks like that won’t be necessary. This high-end hotel required an upfront deposit, but the massive final balance was to be paid after the reception. When our families initially discussed the finances, it was decided that the Hayes family would pay the deposit. My family would pay the balance—$100,000—as part of my dowry. The deposit was $5,000. The balance was $100,000. To save face, Carter’s mother insisted that Carter sign the contract with the hotel himself. The contract stipulated that the bride’s side would cover the balance, but it never explicitly named me. Now that the “bride” was Sierra, Carter’s mother could ask Sierra for the money. Carter called me, demanding I send someone up with the diamond set and the jewelry for Sierra. After all, her hair was done, and she was just waiting for the accessories. Hearing Sierra’s smug laughter through the phone, I hung up and blocked his number. Was he joking? My family paid for that jewelry. Why would I hand it over to dress up his new bride? When no one came up to deliver the jewels, Carter got angry. He decided to teach me a lesson. He ordered the staff to take down all our custom wedding posters in the lobby. He paid a rush fee to replace them with photos of him and Sierra. The bride’s name on the welcome board was changed to Sierra. He originally hadn’t planned to change any of it; he just wanted Sierra to symbolically take my place at the altar. But now, it was his warning to me. Little did he know, this played right into my hands. Now, the bride was thoroughly and legally Sierra. The debt collectors wouldn’t be coming for me. I’ve always been a rational person, which is why I chose to cut my losses immediately. Even though I did have feelings for Carter, sunk costs shouldn’t dictate major life decisions. 04 Seeing her photos displayed on the giant LED screens, Sierra was absolutely ecstatic. She posted dozens of updates on Instagram and TikTok, showing off her high-end luxury wedding. She was wearing the custom designer wedding gown my parents had bought for me at a premium price. Even though it didn’t fit her right, she couldn’t resist finding me to gloat. Her words were dripping with passive-aggressive venom. “Lauren, I think this dress actually flatters my figure better than yours!” “Carter is so silly… ordering a dress without checking my measurements. I’ll have to scold him later! He really doesn’t know how to take care of a girl. Such a typical clueless guy!” She smirked. When I didn’t react, she pressed harder. “Oh, right. Carter just hired a senior celebrity makeup artist for me. The kind that charges $2,000 an hour.” “He said, what kind of bride does her own makeup on her wedding day?” “That’s just how he is! Exactly like he used to be—never listens to reason.” “He doesn’t know how to save money at all. Please don’t mind him, Lauren! It’s such a shame you had to foot the bill for his extravagance today~” “If he acts like this in the future, just call me, and I’ll talk some sense into him!” “Lauren, thank you so much for your generosity today. You really fulfilled the dream Carter and I always had.” Sierra covered her mouth, giggling, her eyes locking onto mine with pure provocation. She was rubbing it in my face as loudly as possible. I let out a cold laugh. It seems Carter wasn’t entirely clueless. He just didn’t care enough to try when it came to me! When I was stuck with clown makeup, he told me I “just looked like that” and no expensive makeup artist could fix it. But for Sierra, he thought of everything. He even hired a celebrity stylist. But does he actually have the money to pay for it? 05 I went downstairs and found my bridesmaids. They were supposed to be up there with me, but because Carter’s family only had his mother to help, things were chaotic. I had sent them down to assist. Which was exactly how Sierra had slipped in unnoticed. We marched upstairs and cornered Sierra. We stripped the custom wedding gown right off her back. I’d rather throw it in the trash than let her wear it! Sierra was furious. Her triumphant little face twisted into indignation and tears. “Lauren, aren’t you taking this too far? Carter paid for all this! What right do you have to take it from me?” Because she assumed Carter had paid for the dress, she felt entitled to flaunt it in front of me. She assumed Carter had finally hit it big, and that she could use their past history to easily knock me out of the picture. Thinking about this, I suddenly felt a surge of anticipation. What will she do when she realizes she backed the wrong horse? This was getting entertaining. Having been forcefully stripped of the dress, Sierra felt humiliated and called Carter, sobbing. Carter dropped everything—ignoring the guests—and rushed upstairs. Seeing Sierra shivering in her undergarments, crying on the floor, his pupils constricted, and his handsome face contorted with rage. He stepped forward, stripped off his suit jacket, and wrapped it around her. Then he scooped her up bridal-style, kicked open the door, and carried her into a different dressing room. Before he left, he shot me a glare filled with impending fury. “Lauren Blake, you’re really something!” “I’m downstairs trying to entertain your father’s business partners to secure your family’s network, and this is how you treat me?” “Then entertain them yourselves!” His eyes were full of warning. He wanted me to compromise, to beg him to stay and network with my father’s connections. Did he really think he was some irresistible prize? Did he honestly believe those elite businessmen were here for him, and not out of respect for my father? To make Sierra happy and let her continue playing bride, Carter waved his hand and spent his last $15,000 in savings to secure a luxury gown on the spot. He paid a massive premium to have it delivered within twenty minutes. Renting that dress for one day cost him $15,000. Fifteen grand, just to soothe Sierra’s ego. Though it wasn’t as beautiful as mine, it was far better than average. This convinced Sierra even more that Carter was now a wealthy man. But Carter forgot one thing: he had just promised his new makeup artist $2,000. And he had just drained the last of his bank account. He didn’t actually think I was going to bail him out to save face, did he? Hilarious. When the new dress arrived, Sierra finally smiled through her tears. Her voice was nasally but thick with flirtation. “Carter, I’m going to punish you for this!” Carter’s voice softened. “How do you want to punish me?” “I called all my girlfriends to come! I’m so happy they get to witness our special day.” Sierra sat on the vanity stool, swinging her legs, stroking the high-end fabric of the new gown. “I’m just kidding, I could never really punish you!” “I’m punishing your ex by making her fund our dream wedding!” “Hehe, am I being too bad?” To spite me, and to show off in front of her friends, Sierra had asked the hotel kitchen to add several premium, off-menu dishes to every table. Each table’s additions cost about $1,000. For twenty tables, that was an extra $20,000 added to the bill. Carter couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, you’re pretty bad.” “It’s about time she bled a little money. She really isn’t as obedient as you.” 06 Carter was a man of his word. To punish my “disobedience,” he genuinely stayed on the second floor the entire time, keeping Sierra company while she got her makeup done. Even the newly hired makeup artist couldn’t stop praising how deeply in love they were. He thought his actions would make me insecure and force me to back down. Little did he know, my parents and I had already explained the situation to our guests, and everyone was quietly slipping out. Out of the twenty tables, only three or four remained occupied. They were all Carter’s relatives. They had no idea what was going on and were completely bewildered. The banquet food had been pre-ordered. Even if the guests left, the hotel was still serving the full twenty tables. Sierra wouldn’t save a single dime on the final bill. When Carter finally came downstairs and saw the ballroom nearly empty, his face turned black. “Lauren, even if you want to throw a tantrum, shouldn’t you consider the time and place? Do your parents know you’re acting like a child?” “Do you have any idea how much effort I put in today to entertain your side of the family?” Seeing my utter apathy, his anger flared. “Fine, Lauren. Have it your way!” Our argument drew the attention of the remaining guests. People exchanged awkward glances, afraid to speak. My parents looked furious but didn’t say a word to him. We were never going to see these people again; there was no point in arguing. Sierra finished her makeup. The stylist wanted to be paid. Since she was a last-minute emergency hire, she wasn’t going to wait until after the wedding to collect her fee. Carter told the makeup artist to come find me for the payment. Obviously, I told her no. The makeup artist realized what was happening and took a hardline stance, demanding Sierra and Carter pay up immediately. Out of options, Carter came to me, his tone significantly softer. “Lauren, stop this. I know you’re emotional today, but can you just pay her first?” “You’ve vented your anger enough. Just be reasonable, okay?” He was finally starting to panic. Why was he acting like a billionaire when he didn’t have a dime to his name? The more he panicked, the happier I felt. Ultimately, Carter’s mother had to pay the stylist. Handing over $2,000 made her heart bleed. However, upon learning that the bride had been swapped at the last minute, she wasn’t upset at all. In fact, she thought Carter had made a brilliant move. “That’s how you handle it! What kind of wife doesn’t submit to her husband? Back in my day, a woman like that would have been beaten to death! It’s good to teach her a lesson so she knows her place!” To spite me, Mrs. Hayes intentionally packed a $1,000 red envelope and shoved it into Sierra’s hands right in front of me. During the reception, she held Sierra’s hand, parading her around to all their relatives. 07 Carter’s relatives noticed the bride was clearly a different person, but by unspoken agreement, no one said a word. Everyone played dumb, pretending nothing was wrong. The wedding followed the pre-planned itinerary. Though the photos on the screens had changed, the ceremony went smoothly. Sierra happily stood at the altar and exchanged rings with Carter. Even when it came time for the wedding night, everyone conveniently ignored the absurdity of it all. I don’t know if Carter was genuinely drunk or just pretending, but he leaned into the mistake and spent his wedding night with Sierra. My parents were so furious they threw out all the gifts Carter had ever given me. Even though the marriage fell apart, Carter’s behavior was deeply repulsive. But strangely, I wasn’t that angry anymore. Carter had hidden his true colors so well before, which was why I developed feelings for him. Now that his mask had slipped, showing his true face, I just felt disgusted. Any lingering affection was quickly replaced by nausea. My parents, worried about hurting my feelings, spent the whole day walking on eggshells around me. Seeing that I truly didn’t care, they finally relaxed. Carter didn’t call me until after 10:00 AM the next day. His voice was laced with hungover exhaustion. “Did you go back to your parents’ house to sleep?” I couldn’t help but laugh. If I didn’t go home, was I supposed to stay and watch the two shameless cheaters consummate their fake marriage? Hearing my scoff, Carter snapped to his senses. His tone turned defensive and angry. “Lauren, are you still throwing a fit? We have to go explain everything to the relatives today. Pack your things and come to the new house.” “The hotel called me too. They want the final balance. This was originally your family’s responsibility, but since we’re married now, I’ll go with you to sort it out.” Carter clearly hadn’t grasped the reality of the situation. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I cursed him out, called him an idiot, and hung up the phone. You can’t afford the bill? Not my problem. In an excellent mood, I finished my breakfast and drove straight to Sierra’s salon. It was payback time.

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  • The Midnight Craving and the Stray Cat

    I woke up in the middle of the night, starving and unable to sleep, so I gave in and ordered some delivery. Because I was pregnant, I specifically added a note: [Pregnant and really craving pickles. Please add extra, thank you!] Not long after, there was a relentless knocking at my apartment door. Annoyed, I messaged the Dasher: [Just leave it at the door. Please don’t knock.] The Dasher replied: [I like knocking. What are you going to do about it?] The knocking continued for almost ten minutes. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and decided to go out and confront the driver. Just as I reached the door, a few lines of text floated across my vision: [This pregnant woman has no idea, does she? That’s not a person outside at all! It’s a black cat that’s turned into a monster. If she goes out, it’s going to rip her stomach open and she’ll die a horrible death!] [It’s purposely trying to lure the woman out. After all, a fetus is the most tender meat, perfect for it to feed on.] [Ugh, targeting pregnant women. She has it the worst; she’s the first victim.] 1 My whole body trembled, and the hand I had reached out to the doorknob fell back to my side. A black cat turned monster? That sounded completely absurd! But… I suddenly remembered something. I took a few steps back, pulled out my phone, and scrolled through the neighborhood Facebook group chat from a few days ago. Someone in the group had posted a “Lost Cat” flyer. They said their black cat had suddenly gone missing and asked everyone to keep an eye out for it. I remembered when I tapped on the photo in the chat, it had actually startled me. Because the cat was twice the size of a normal cat. And while its body and limbs were black, its face was much paler. Even worse… The cat’s facial features were incredibly eerie. Looking closely, it almost looked human. The cat in the photo seemed to be smiling. The more I looked at it, the creepier it got. I immediately closed the group chat. More text floated across my vision like comments on a livestream: [Why hasn’t she opened the door yet? I remember the first victim opened it without hesitating.] [Did she realize something?] [No way. Animals that turn into monsters look almost identical to normal humans from the outside. How could she tell?] [I can’t watch this part. Her stomach gets ripped open while she’s still alive!] These words filled me with panic. Meanwhile, the knocking at the door hadn’t stopped. I instinctively rubbed my belly and called my husband. He answered quickly. I stayed silent for a moment, took a deep breath, and kept my voice very low so whoever was outside wouldn’t hear: “Honey, when are you getting off work? I’m scared. There’s a delivery guy at the door who won’t stop knocking.” My husband replied, “It’s just a delivery guy! What’s there to be scared of? I’ll be home in 5 minutes! If he’s still there, I’ll chase him off.” I said urgently: “No, no, honey, do you remember what I told you? The black cat that apartment 501 lost, the one with the human-like face. I suspect the thing outside our door is that black cat, and it’s turned into a monster! It wants to eat our baby!” My husband suddenly burst out laughing: “Hahahaha, they say pregnancy makes you lose your mind, and you haven’t even had the baby yet but you’re already talking crazy! They found the cat from 501 ages ago. You’re overthinking things. If you’re scared, just stay put and wait for me to get home.” I wanted to say more, but he had already hung up. I slapped my forehead. He was right. If someone told me an animal had turned into a monster to hurt people, I’d just think they were running a fever. But right now, I was truly seeing these words hovering in the air. For my husband’s safety, I had to lie: [This delivery guy looks like he knows how to fight! Bring the security guard with you. One person might not be able to handle him!] Seeing my husband reply “okay,” I finally let out a sigh of relief. The comments: [She actually figured it out! But this cat monster just transformed and desperately needs nutrients. She definitely won’t escape.] [Ugh, she’s just minor cannon fodder. If she doesn’t die, how does the plot move forward?] [Yeah, there are no security cameras in this old apartment building. When she opens the door, the cat monster will rush in, bite her so she can’t move, and when her husband gets home, he’ll only find an empty stomach and his dead wife. Because the only evidence left will be cat prints, it’s too bizarre, so the FBI’s paranormal division gets involved, and the real story begins.] I finally grasped the gist of what these comments were saying. My death was just a plot device to introduce the paranormal division and get the case solved. So I was just the blurred-out corpse at the beginning of a crime show! I closed my eyes, trying hard to accept this reality. Suddenly, everything grew unusually quiet. I swallowed hard. The relentless knocking had stopped. I slowly stood up and walked to the door, wanting to see if the person outside had given up and left because I wasn’t answering. But when I pressed my eye to the peephole. All I could see was pitch black. That was weird. This peephole had night vision. Even if the hallway was dark, it shouldn’t be this black! Just as I was feeling confused, a voice sent a chill down my spine: “Ma’am, you’re pregnant, right? I was just joking with you earlier. Hehe, did I scare you?” 2 The person outside continued: “I hope I didn’t scare the baby. If the baby wants extra pickles, you should definitely eat more. I left the food at the door, come out and get it. I’m leaving now, got another delivery to make.” I heard clear footsteps walking away from my door. Once the footsteps faded away, I checked the peephole again. Still pitch black. The comments suddenly flooded in: [So scary! A cat’s pupils fully dilate when it’s excited or stimulated! She’s staring right into the cat’s pupil!] [So creepy! Cats really are liquid. Even after taking human form, it’s still so flexible.] [The cat monster’s head is pressed against the peephole, but its body is walking backward! Its neck is stretched out so long!] [What a smart monster. It even knows how to fake footsteps to trick the pregnant woman into coming out.] [This thing’s teeth and claws are incredibly sharp!] My eyes widened in terror. I shot back, getting as far away from the door as possible. My palms were drenched in sweat, and my heart was pounding furiously. A skritch, scratch sound came from outside the door. That thing was scratching at the door! Thinking about the comments saying the cat could stretch its neck, all the hair on my body stood on end. I kept telling myself to stay calm, preparing to dial 911 so the police could handle this. [Give it up, calling the cops is useless. They’ll just think it’s a prank call and won’t come.] [Look! It’s scratched deep gouges into the door! It’s getting impatient!] [Looks like it’s going to try a different way to get to the pregnant woman!] 3 I swallowed hard. A different way? What way? I was terrified and anxious. Why couldn’t the comments be more specific! Tap, tap, tap, tap. A hurried sound of footsteps suddenly appeared outside. I gathered my courage and moved closer to the door. If what the comments said was true and the black cat had other ways to get me, would I be safer if I took the opportunity while it was away from the door to escape outside the apartment building? After all, there were several BBQ places open downstairs. It was late, but there were still a lot of customers. But this time, I still wasn’t sure if those footsteps were meant to trick me… Just as I was thinking, I suddenly heard my husband’s voice: “Honey, open the door quickly! Your food is getting cold. Why didn’t you bring it inside?” My heart skipped a beat. I cautiously asked: “Did you see the delivery guy at the door? Did he leave? Also, didn’t I tell you to come up with the security guard? Where is he?” There was a few seconds of silence outside: “I didn’t see a delivery guy! He probably left a long time ago. I didn’t bring the security guard because I didn’t think it was necessary. Your husband is a big, strong man! What’s there to be afraid of?” I carefully checked the peephole. It was indeed my husband outside. Could those footsteps earlier have been him? I pressed my husband: “FaceTime me on WhatsApp right now. Show me that there’s no danger outside, and then pan the camera from your head to your toes.” I wasn’t going to overlook even the slightest abnormality with him. I quickly checked my messages, waiting for my husband to report back. My husband suddenly sighed: “Maya, what is going on with you the past few days? First you said someone else’s cat looked like a human, and now you’re saying a cat turned into a monster! Can you stop being so paranoid all the time?! I ask you to open the door, and you’re dragging your feet.” Before I could fully process this. I heard the sound of a key turning the lock on the front door. The comments floated by: [That should be her husband, right? I saw the cat crawl away when her husband showed up.] [That thing is way too fast. If a cat doesn’t want to make a sound, its footsteps are super light. It was gone before I could even see it clearly!] [Regardless, the pregnant woman is still in the most danger. She better hide. The black cat monster is definitely not interested in her husband.] Seeing the lock turning. I quickly ran into the bedroom, locked the door, and hid inside the closet. I covered my mouth, feeling my heart pounding violently. Whether my husband believed me or not. I had to make sure I was safe. Through the closet door, I heard my husband washing up while complaining about how I didn’t appreciate him. Listening to his voice. I gradually calmed down inside the closet. I even started to doubt myself a little. Was there really something wrong with my brain? I hadn’t seen the black cat with my own eyes. And the comments had vanished again. I had run away in such a panic earlier that I forgot to grab the spare bedroom key from the living room. I clung to a sliver of hope. Maybe it really was because my morning sickness had been so bad lately, causing me extreme anxiety, which led to hallucinations. When I saw my husband later, if there was nothing wrong with him, I would apologize to him. Not long after. My husband knocked on the bedroom door impatiently, then went to find the key to open it. I left a tiny crack in the closet doors, focusing all my attention on observing the outside. The door opened. Seeing nothing unusual behind my husband, I patted my chest, jokingly thinking to myself that maybe I really did need to see a doctor. I reached out, intending to push the closet door open and get out. A few comments flashed by: [You guys are so heartless! I can’t watch this! Don’t go out! That black cat followed your husband in!] [To the person above, didn’t we agree not to say anything? What’s wrong with you? Everyone else is discussing it elsewhere. That woman can probably see the comments.] [Exactly, we said the monster was looking through the peephole, and she backed away. We said she better hide, and she actually did!] My face went deathly pale. Because at this very moment, I saw a bizarre figure behind my husband. That thing clearly had human facial features, but its expression was vacant, and its limbs were twisted. Every time my husband took a step, it would crawl one step behind him, matching his footsteps perfectly. 4 If you didn’t listen carefully, you’d have no idea there was a second set of sounds in the house! I almost screamed out loud. My husband walked into the bedroom, still calling out for me: “Maya? What’s wrong? Where are you?” I didn’t dare answer him directly. Instead, I used my phone to warn him: [Don’t move! That thing really did turn into a monster!] [It’s right behind you! Don’t come near the closet, it’s looking for me!] [Take a few steps back, and it will step back with you. About three steps. After three steps, it’ll be outside the bedroom. Lock the door immediately!] The notification sound dinged a few times in my husband’s pocket. He pulled out his phone. He rolled his eyes in an exasperated way, then turned around. Then, a blood-curdling scream pierced my ears. I was so terrified tears streamed down my face. My husband is 6’0″. But when that thing locked eyes with him, it let out a bizarre cat yowl, then lunged, landing squarely on his back and latching onto his neck in a death grip. I originally wanted to go out and help him! But in that split second of hesitation and fear, my husband couldn’t break free. A chunk of flesh was torn from the right side of his neck. He clutched his neck, collapsing heavily onto the floor, blood gushing out. His eyes stared blankly at the closet, unmoving, as if accusing me of not saving him. My entire body shook uncontrollably. All I could do was watch helplessly as the monster used its claws to slice open his stomach. It was rooting around for his internal organs. What do I do? What do I do? Why did I have to encounter this kind of monster! I pinched my thigh hard. It hurt. It wasn’t a dream. I wanted so badly to escape, but my husband was lying dead right at the bedroom doorway, and the monster was chewing right next to him. [It’s over! Is this a dead end? Now she can only wait to die!] [Only the people from the paranormal division have the skills to subdue the monster. She definitely has no way of contacting them.] [It took the division a long time to figure out this was actually a house cat.] [This black cat monster is starving. Plus, since the guy saw its face, it wanted him dead. Sigh, if the pregnant woman had just waited to die obediently, her husband wouldn’t have died. Add her to the mix, and that’s three lives lost!] I bit my finger, forcing my eyes away from my husband’s torn stomach, and quickly typed out an emergency text to 911. To make the police believe me, I said a murderer had broken into my house and I was about to be killed. I had been misled by the comments earlier. Why would calling the police be useless? If the police witness what this monster looks like, it will trigger the paranormal division’s involvement. As soon as the text went through, a few messages popped up in the neighborhood Facebook group chat. It was the woman from 501: [Has anyone seen my cat?] [He snuck out to play and hasn’t come back for a long time. I’m worried he was taken by cat stealers. Please let me know if you see him! Thank you!] This message gave me a flash of inspiration. The comments said the paranormal division took a long time to realize the black cat was a pet. Could it be that the black cat monster, in order to better hunt for food, deliberately avoided exposing itself in front of its owner? I immediately messaged 501 privately: [The cat ran into my apartment! And it refuses to leave! Hurry up and come get it!] 501 showed as typing. I was burning with anxiety. Hurry up! Why is she typing so slowly! I urged her again: [Someone in my house is allergic to cats! Please hurry!] After sending the message, I looked up. Through the crack in the closet doors, I met a pair of entirely black eyes. It stared at me dead on, still chewing on something. My gaze shifted slightly downwards. I saw a piece of intestine dangling from its mouth. 5 My attention had been entirely on my phone. I hadn’t noticed it discovering me at all. My mouth fell open involuntarily, taking huge, greedy breaths of air, trying to make myself less afraid. But it was useless! I watched as it reached out and pried open the closet door. I pushed off with my feet and sprinted out as fast as I could. Before I could take more than a few steps, the thing had crawled right in front of me. It advanced on me step by step, continuously letting out a “meow, meow” sound. This cat’s meow was completely different from a normal cat’s. It sounded drawn out and chilling. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and started screaming at the top of my lungs. The “meow, meow” sounds grew more frequent. I took a step back, lost my footing, and slipped hard onto the floor. My stomach hurt terribly, but I had no time to worry about that. I tried to push myself up, but my hands slipped again. My hands were covered in bloody water… The monster had crawled onto me. I could even feel its breath. I turned my head away, unwilling to look. But my eyes met my husband’s. He still had a faint trace of life left. He moved his eyes to stare at me. I was so terrified I whipped my head back around. The next second, a gaping maw, dripping with blood, lunged at my neck. I fought back desperately, trying to pull the monster off. But I never expected this monster to be so incredibly strong. I couldn’t move it an inch. In the end, I could only watch as it ripped my stomach open. I was suffocating from the pain. Using the last ounce of my willpower, I uttered my final sentence: “No, don’t… please, spare my baby.” The agonizing pain made my eyelids heavy. Soon, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I heard the relentless knocking at the apartment door. My phone also displayed a reply: [I like knocking. What are you going to do about it?]

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  • My Husband the Scientist Said He’s Incapable of Love. Until I Died, and He Built a Time Machine.

    My husband is a world-renowned scientist. When asked about his personal life in an interview, he said: “I don’t consider myself a qualified partner.” “Under no circumstances will I put romance first.” “I only wish to use my limited time pursuing the endless frontiers of science.” After the program aired, the whole country praised his fearless pursuit of knowledge. I, however, quietly put away my medical report. I had cancer. Terminal. The days he spent in London receiving his award. Were my last days in this world. 01 The last thing I saw before my consciousness faded was the blinding glare of the surgical lights. But when my spirit left my body, allowing me to see the entire operating room. And when I saw the heart monitor next to the bed pull into a flat line. I suddenly realized. I seemed to be dead. 02 I don’t know why, but I turned into a spirit, floating around. Just this morning, I was feeling okay. I even spoke a few words to Elias. He had an overseas symposium to present his research at, and his flight was this afternoon. So I woke up at seven to make him breakfast. Elias looked like someone who didn’t care about anything, but he was incredibly picky about his food. The toast had to be toasted just a tiny bit crispy, and the milk had to be exactly 80% warm. In our son’s words: “Mom, you’ve spoiled Dad’s taste buds.” I didn’t disagree. After taking meticulous care of him for twenty or thirty years, even the most troublesome things become habits. 03 “Elias, I heard there’s a sudden temperature drop in the UK due to some air mass.” “I packed an extra down vest for you.” “The gum is in the left pocket of your backpack. You always get earaches on flights; chewing a piece will help.” “Don’t stay up too late at night. Has your heart been bothering you lately? Go to bed early…” “It’s a polar continental air mass.” My words were abruptly cut off. I looked up dully and met his clear eyes. The saying “time is kind to beauties” fit Elias well. His brow bone was still sharp, and even nearing fifty, the years seemed to have left no mark on him. So the coldness he carried since his youth could still pierce straight to the bottom of my heart. He was correcting the inaccuracy of my first sentence. “Some air mass in the UK” is a “polar continental air mass.” But I just wanted to care for him. I lowered my eyes. And straightened his tie for him. “I know.” “Have a safe trip, Elias.” He turned sideways and walked past me. He thought I had nothing going on this afternoon. Actually, I did. He was going across the Atlantic to attend a scientific symposium. I also had a meeting to attend. My pre-op consultation. The doctor said the success rate of this surgery was only twenty percent. 04 When the doctor informed me that the stomach cancer was discovered too late and the cancer cells had already metastasized throughout my body, I sat in the hospital corridor for an entire afternoon. The TV hanging in the corner was playing Today’s Interview. It was the interview Elias was invited to a few days ago. The man with the cold eyes didn’t want to waste much time on anything other than scientific research. Even when asked about his wife, he just brushed over it. “I’m a blockhead.” “I don’t understand romance. A wife… to me, is more of a responsibility.” “Celebrate anniversaries? That’s formalism. Instead of spending time preparing for that, I’d rather do a few more experiments.” It sounded exactly like something Elias would say. Forget anniversaries; he didn’t even celebrate birthdays. When I was younger, I used to pester him to celebrate, hoping that one day he would appear before me holding a bouquet of vibrant roses. But I never received a single bouquet of roses. A brain that could memorize countless data points simply refused to remember the four digits of my birthday. Later, I would just sit alone at the table, make myself a bowl of longevity noodles, and consider the day celebrated. Elias was an iron tree; he couldn’t bloom. It took me over twenty years to finally accept this truth. So in recent years, I slowly started to feel that I wasn’t quite right. Call it exhaustion, or call it giving up. The funny thing was, he was him, and I was me. The path he had laid out plainly before me decades ago, I only understood now. I crumpled the medical notice, stuffed it in my pocket, and only called my son’s number. 05 Liam was close to me. Because Elias didn’t like kids, and his only son was completely inept at scientific research. After listening to my emotionless account, Liam’s voice choked up. “Mom…” “Did you and Dad…” “I didn’t tell him.” I lowered my eyes, staring at the granite floor. “I don’t want to tell him.” He is him, and I am me. Besides, what difference would it make if he knew I was sick? Would he drop the scientific research he was so obsessed with day and night to take care of me? “Liam.” “Mom doesn’t know how much longer she has.” “If Mom dies one day, don’t tell your dad.” I looked down and smoothed out the hem of my shirt. Why bring something Elias didn’t care about to him and cause him trouble? “Okay.” Liam replied on the other end of the phone. “Mom, to be honest, Dad doesn’t deserve it anyway.” “He really doesn’t deserve someone as good as you.” … 06 My spirit drifted through the hospital corridors. I saw the doctor walk out of the operating room, shake his head regretfully, and Liam lay by my bed crying. He picked me up and brought me to the hospital in the afternoon, waited outside the operating room until evening, but his mom disappointed him and didn’t open her eyes. He was crying so heartbrokenly. I hovered anxiously around him, but he couldn’t see me. I wanted to hug him so badly, to coax him to stop crying like I did when he was little. Liam worked very hard. Even though he didn’t become a scientist like his dad expected, his paintings were loved by many people, and he had an exhibition opening in Italy in the second half of the year. I sat next to him, looked up at the stars in the night sky, and sang him a song like I did to coax him when he was little. He couldn’t hear me, but I felt like this way, he would know Mom was right by his side. … I was suddenly transported very, very far away by a gust of wind. The senses of a spirit after death are truly miraculous. I could perceive what happened in the hospital after I died. And at the same time, I arrived at the venue where Elias was having his meeting. His meeting was supposed to last for seven days. The man in the sharp suit easily became the center of attention. Young, handsome, with a resume that was unprecedented and probably unrepeatable. Actually, speaking of Elias, he was probably the center of attention from childhood to adulthood. In college, the girls who liked him were like a school of fish crossing a river. In that era, which still retained some traditional thinking, girls brazenly chased him all the way to the bottom of his dorm building. Every time, he looked at them with a gaze that kept people thousands of miles away. Wearing the most ordinary white shirt, books tucked under his arm, he looked down at people with restrained aloofness: “I’m sorry, I don’t like you.” His words were exceedingly merciless. The “popularity” that many men would be immensely proud of was nothing more than a pure annoyance to him. At that time, he had already won national awards until his hands went soft. His name frequently popped out of the teachers’ mouths. At that time, I was just one of the students looking up at him, the most marginalized kind. I only dared to secretly catch a glimpse of the corner of his shirt when exiting the cafeteria. Elias absolutely didn’t know that before our blind date, I had secretly had a crush on him for three or four years. He also absolutely wouldn’t know that three years after graduation. The blind date my family arranged for me was him. “I won’t have anyone I like.” That was what Elias said to me the first time he met me. “If I have to say I like something, I like doing experiments, doing math—in short, nothing to do with people.” He frowned slightly; even so, he couldn’t hide his dazzling good looks. He concisely and clearly explained himself. “We are not discussing love.” “We are just ensuring we have a descendant. Do you understand?” … Actually, back then, Elias made it very clear. It was me who thought I could accept it; it was me who wanted to be with him. I always thought we had plenty of time. I always thought that one day, his clear, unwavering gaze would settle on me. I always thought he— Would fall in love with me. Should I say I overestimated myself, pinning my day-and-night dedication on the so-called “love grows over time”? My spirit drifted to his side. Watching him converse with the scholar across from him with a serious expression. The man had a tall, slender build, aloof and elegant. “Was I pretty stupid?” I leaned against his pocket, looking at him. “They say people with high IQs look at normal people the way normal people look at fools.” On the other side, my body was sent to the hearse from the funeral home. The academic symposium was buzzing with voices. “Elias, did you think I was pretty stupid?” 07 Elias took a picture of the London night view with his phone and sent it to me. Of course, I could never reply. Liam really didn’t tell his dad about my death. He didn’t even unblock Elias to send the obituary he posted on my WeChat. This was good. I bothered him too much while I was alive; I didn’t want to trouble him and make him change his flight after I died. Besides, I didn’t think he would want to see me one last time anyway. The London night view was pretty, but for some reason, that day, he stared at his phone and looked out from the windy balcony for a long time. I leaned over to look and finally understood. In the past, when he sent me messages, I almost always replied instantly. When he went on business trips abroad before, he would casually snap a few photos and send them to me. I would reply with the emojis I saved from Liam: a thumbs-up, or two thumbs-up, with “Awesome!” written on them. This time, he waited a long time, and I didn’t reply. “Professor Vance, it’s raining outside again.” “Come back inside, don’t catch a cold.” A young female voice sounded behind him. She was his student. In academic circles, some things are tacitly understood. The girl stepped forward somewhat intimately to drape a coat over him, but he pushed her away. 08 “Fish and chips.” “Disgusting.” Elias sent me a picture of a restaurant. My body was pushed into the incinerator. “It’s raining again.” Elias sent me a picture out the window of the hotel he was staying at. Relatives and friends attended my burial ceremony. “Presenting results tonight.” “Flight back tomorrow.” Elias stood at the podium, cameras pointed at him. With my broken English, I understood a little. His results seemed to add another significant stroke to human development. He, standing under the spotlight, in the field he excelled at, unfailingly radiated light and heat. I think this was why I loved him for so many years. But it was me who loved him, not him who loved me. In the drizzling rain of April, as my ashes were buried beside a square tombstone, I finally understood this truth. 09 That night after the meeting ended, when Elias called my phone for the third time and it didn’t go through. He changed his flight to the early hours of the morning. On the plane, he frowned the whole time, his face even colder than usual. It makes sense. After being at his beck and call for so many years, suddenly losing contact must be something he wasn’t used to. Actually, every time he came back from abroad, I would go to the airport to pick him up. And I would definitely arrive at least two hours early, just waiting for him at the airport. These were all habits. People can’t let the ones they hold dear suffer any grievances; I always did everything in my power to make him comfortable. But this time, he had to walk through the empty waiting hall alone and then hail a high-priced taxi at four or five in the morning. When he got home, it was 6 AM. He knocked first, and when no one answered, he unlocked the door with his fingerprint and pushed it open. The house was empty. Everything was the same as when he left: the sink was spotless, the dining table empty. Only the slippers I usually wore were placed at the entryway. He unbuttoned the coat he hadn’t had time to change out of because he left in such a hurry, walking around the unlit house, circle after circle. Bedroom, balcony, bathroom. Finally, he opened the washing machine door. … Finding nothing, he paused and pulled out his phone to call me. He waited for a long time; it went straight to voicemail. He took a deep breath and slid his thumb to the other number on the list. Liam’s. The relationship between the two men had been very tense since before Liam became an adult. Over the years, when Liam came home, it was only to see me; he never thought of interacting with his dad. Elias’s attitude was even worse. He was obsessed with academics, which meant: don’t make him raise kids. He was absent during the most important stages of his son’s growth, so his son naturally never spoke to him kindly. “What?” “Where’s your mom?” Both of their tones were aggressive, but Liam paused. Then came a very strange laugh, a feeling I can’t describe, as he murmured and repeated it. “Where’s my mom?” “My mom is gone.” “Where did she go?” Elias’s frown deepened. The first light of dawn happened to fall on his brow. I heard the son on the other end of the phone, his voice suddenly going blank. “Not gone somewhere.” “Mom passed away, Dad.” 10 A very long silence pierced both ends of the phone. From my angle, Elias’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone. “You’re this old and still making cheap jokes with other punks?” A lecturing tone. He didn’t take it seriously. It seemed that the idea of me dying and not even notifying him of the funeral was something that simply wouldn’t compute in Elias’s mind. Liam went silent on the other end of the phone. After a long while, he let out a scoff with a tone of release. “Dad.” “I haven’t joked with you since I was in the sixth grade.” Liam hung up. The phone beeped on Elias’s end. I thought it was strange; Elias seemed frozen in place, standing there maintaining the posture of holding the phone. Slowly, he sat down on the sofa in the house. Elias was rigorous and serious in his academic work, but his personal life was exactly the opposite; he was casual to the extreme. So the house was always cleaned by me. His study was often piled high with manuscripts, and he wouldn’t allow me to touch them. I had been scolded by him more than once for this kind of thing. Thinking about it now, I really wasn’t a good match for him. He probably needed a female scientist who could chat with him about the vast universe of academia. Not a third-rate magazine editor who only knew how to wash sofa covers until they were faded and didn’t even know what a polar continental air mass was. A tiny bit of light leaked into the room. I saw him touching the lace edge of the sofa cover. Rubbing the lace, which had already accumulated a little dust. Over and over again. 11 The front door opened. Elias snapped his head to look. He moved so forcefully I was afraid he’d sprain his neck. As a result, it was Liam standing outside, jingling the keys in his hand. “Dad, you’re here. Good.” “Where did Mom keep her ID and the family register?” “I have to go to the police station…” Elias’s knuckles, which were rubbing the lace edge, stopped moving and stiffened. “To cancel her residency.” “…” In the cabinet below the TV, there were some personal documents belonging to me and Elias. He was the kind of person who threw these things around after taking them, including some of his award medals, so I carefully put them away for him every time. He didn’t care about these things at all, but I would always gently stroke them with joy. “What’s the point.” He didn’t understand why I was happy because he won an award. I would just smile and link arms with him. “Because you’re my husband, and of course I’m happy when my husband wins an award.” When I was young, I still had moments of pestering him and acting cute. Later, washed by the years, I restrained myself a lot. Elias was gripping our marriage certificate and wouldn’t let go. The photo on the marriage certificate didn’t turn out well either. After all, the corners of his mouth weren’t raised even a millimeter, while I smiled as if it were a grand wedding that belonged only to me. Liam found my ID and turned to see Elias holding the two bright red booklets. Staring at who knows what. “Dad, don’t worry.” “Mom is gone, so your marriage to my mom is naturally dissolved.” “You’re not her husband anymore, never will be.” “Happy? You can freely fall in love with those young female students you mentor.” This tone of obvious sarcasm. Normally, Elias would flip out if he heard his son say this. But this time, he didn’t make a sound for a long time. It was more like he had been lost in thought for a long time. He just slowly stood up and then picked up his trench coat hanging on the sofa. “I’ll go with you.”

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  • I Reincarnated as the Mother of a Mary Sue Protagonist

    I woke up with a baby in a swaddle right next to me. A mechanical voice, buzzing with excitement, echoed in my head. “You must abandon her! Leave her to her alcoholic, abusive father. She will grow up through endless hardship. Then, like a resilient wildflower blooming in adversity, she will catch the eye of the heir to the Sterling Group. Once they get married, you can return to acknowledge her as your daughter, and you will live the rest of your life in absolute wealth and luxury!” I stared at the baby, who was currently giggling at me, and remained silent for a long time. “What if I don’t abandon her?” The System froze, seemingly shocked that anyone would even ask that question. Quickly, its tone turned mocking: “Then she will become the most ordinary, average person. She will go to a normal college, get a normal job, and she will never attract the attention of a billionaire CEO.” I smiled. “That sounds like a pretty good life, doesn’t it?” If the only purpose of her suffering was to attract the attention of some man… Then avoiding all that suffering was a much better deal, wasn’t it? 01 I kept Lily. No, maybe I should call her Aurora now. Ignoring the System’s protests, I changed her original, clichĆ© novel name. She now shares my last name. I hated how in those romance novels, the female leads could never escape those repetitive, overly sweet names—always something delicate, soft, or weak. Meanwhile, the male leads always had names carefully selected by the author to sound powerful, profound, and dominant. I liked the name Aurora. Dawn’s light, standing strong and facing the sun. I wanted my daughter to escape the fate of depending on others. I wanted her to live independently and freely. 02 When Aurora was seven, she started elementary school. She had a bright and cheerful personality, loved by both her teachers and classmates. Until one day, she came home crying. The pigtails I had carefully braided for her were messy and undone. I asked her what happened. She sobbed, “Tommy keeps pulling my hair during class.” I knew Tommy. He was the boy who sat right behind her. I had seen him at the parent-teacher conference. He was a scrawny, overly energetic kid. I frowned. “Did you tell the teacher?” Aurora nodded. “I did, but…” She hesitated. “But the teacher said Tommy only pulls my hair because he has a crush on me.” I didn’t lose my temper in front of my daughter. Instead, I knelt down gently and said to her: “Let’s go talk to Ms. Patterson together, okay?” In the classroom, the teacher, wearing thick red-rimmed glasses, looked up from her lesson plans with a teasing smile. She pointed her chin toward my daughter, whom I had seated a short distance away. “Aurora is a very pretty girl. A lot of the little boys in class have a crush on her. You know how it is—boys at this age don’t know how to express their feelings, so they act out. They tease her a bit, pull her hair a bit.” She seemed to want to use that subtle, knowing smile to group us into the same category. A category of women who had experienced the same “affectionate harassment” and were supposed to feel flattered by it. But in the face of my stony silence, her smile slowly froze. I said flatly, “I don’t understand. All I know is that my daughter is being harassed. This is school bullying.” The teacher seemed taken aback, as if the severity of the word “bullying” had offended her. She set her thermos down with a thud and sat up straight. “Aurora’s mom, you’re being a bit unreasonable. They’re just little kids, what do they know about bullying? They’re just playing around.” “Playing around?” I repeated her words. “If it’s just ‘playing around,’ then how about we move Tommy to sit right behind your daughter?” It was an open secret that Ms. Patterson’s daughter was also in this class. The teacher, who had been arguing so righteously just a second ago, suddenly went mute. I understood perfectly. It wasn’t that she didn’t know this behavior was wrong. It was just that she couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. Just like so many unspoken rules in our society. We all know it’s wrong, but for hundreds of years, no one has ever stood up and said “No.” Because breaking the mold is infinitely more troublesome than just conforming to it. It’s so much easier to wave it off as “just playing around” than to put in the immense effort required to teach little boys to respect women from a young age. But I was going to break the mold. For my daughter. And for the countless girls in the future who would get their hair pulled. To tell them: This is not a crush. This is harassment. This is bullying. “Ms. Patterson,” I snapped her back to reality. “You have two choices right now. First, move Tommy to sit behind your daughter. Second, separate my daughter and Tommy immediately, and teach the boys in your class that the correct way to show you like someone is never to bully them, but to respect and care for them.” The teacher deflated like a popped balloon. “I’ll choose the second option.” I took my daughter’s hand and walked out, satisfied. As we reached the door, Ms. Patterson couldn’t resist calling out bitterly, “Aurora’s mom, interfering this much is going to affect your child’s normal socialization with her peers.” I didn’t even turn my head. My tone was absolute. “That is none of your concern.” On the way home, I shared my concerns with Aurora. “Sweetie, if Tommy refuses to play with you anymore because of what Mommy did today, will you be sad?” Over the years, my daughter and I had an agreement: we always spoke our minds and never kept things bottled up. Aurora thought for a moment, then asked timidly, “Does that mean Tommy will never pull my hair again?” I nodded. “That’s right.” My daughter instantly threw her arms around me, her eyes sparkling. “Then you are the best mommy in the whole wide world!” Wrapped in her warm, soft little arms, all my doubts vanished instantly. I thought, This is truly the greatest compliment in the world. 03 That night, after my daughter fell asleep, the System popped up. Ever since I unilaterally decided to keep Aurora, it had rarely shown itself. It was its form of silent protest against my actions. But to ensure we completed our overarching mission, it would occasionally pop up to remind me. Like today— “Host, our ultimate goal is to get the Female Lead’s Happiness Meter to 100%. You really need to step it up.” I was suddenly curious. “According to the original plot, when exactly does her Happiness Meter hit 100%?” System: “When she marries the heir to the Sterling Group, obviously.” I asked again: “And what about after the wedding? What is her happiness level then? Did your creators ever check?” The System suddenly went silent. I knew it. They never checked. It’s just like the end of a fairy tale: it always stops at “and the Prince and Princess lived happily ever after.” But what happens next? Does the Princess ever get homesick? When she’s forced to learn suffocating royal etiquette, does she miss the days she ran free in the forest? Does she get dragged down by in-law drama? Does the Prince ever fall in love with someone else? All of this… no one cares. If happiness is fragile and constantly at risk of being lost, it cannot be called true happiness. Because something fleeting cannot support a lifetime. I asked again, “What is Aurora’s Happiness Meter at right now? Can you check?” I wasn’t asking out of a player’s ambition, but out of a mother’s genuine curiosity. My daughter… is she happy right now? The System disappeared for a moment, probably checking the data. A few seconds later, it returned, its mechanical voice glitching and screeching in disbelief. “54%… How is this possible?! This is the level of happiness she’s only supposed to reach after enduring unimaginable suffering and being saved by Arthur Sterling during their first encounter! What on earth did you do?!” I looked down at my sleeping daughter and smiled. “I just did what a mother is supposed to do.” Facts prove that the one who saves the Princess isn’t always the Prince. It can also be the Queen. And I believe that in the near future, the one who saves the Princess… will be the Princess herself. 04 A few years later, Aurora entered high school. Her grades were excellent, especially in STEM subjects, where she showed incredible talent. She was almost always ranked number one in her grade for math. But one day, she came home looking incredibly defeated, not saying a word. I immediately sensed something was wrong and asked: “Are you upset about your scores on the midterms?” Her voice instantly cracked. “A new transfer student came to our class. He took first place on the very first midterm. Even in math.” I understood her frustration. It’s a terrible feeling to be beaten by someone in the very field you excel at. So I asked gently, “How many students are in your grade?” Aurora thought for a second. “Six hundred and forty-five.” I smiled. “See? You didn’t lose to one person. You beat six hundred and forty-three other people. That is incredibly impressive.” Hearing my comfort, her mood visibly lifted. But she still looked a bit down. “Mom, our math teacher said that girls just aren’t naturally good at STEM. Even if my grades are good now, once we hit senior year, the boys will eventually overtake me.” I kept my smile and asked, “And which teacher made that brilliant deduction?” Again. Which. Teacher. My daughter sighed. “Our math teacher. He’s also the Vice Principal.” The System chimed in my head, gloating. “Uh-oh. This one isn’t going to be so easy to deal with.” I ignored it and thought for a moment. “Sweetie, do you want to transfer to a better private school?” Private schools have exorbitant tuition fees, but the upgrade in educational resources is undeniable. Most importantly, instead of treating students just as students, they treat students (and their parents) as clients. If anyone dared to say “girls aren’t suited for STEM” there, I would have the absolute leverage to demand they be fired. But to my surprise, the one who reacted most violently wasn’t Aurora, but the System. It screamed in my head: “Absolutely NOT!!!” I closed my eyes in exasperation. “Why are you freaking out?” The System frantically explained: “That transfer student is the Male Lead #2! He is a literal genius. He takes first place without even trying. At first, the Female Lead is crushed by this, but eventually, she starts looking up to him as a role model, and their relationship slowly heats up!” I was genuinely confused. “And?” The System sounded like it was pulling its hair out. “Do you not get it? He’s supposed to be the beacon of inspiration on her path forward!” I maintained my confused tone. “Using your rival as motivation is just good sportsmanship. That just means my daughter has a great mindset. What does the specific identity of the rival have to do with anything?” The System seemed to choke. “But… but…” It stammered for a long time but couldn’t form a coherent argument. I continued calmly: “Making the Female Lead suffer setbacks just so she can ‘grow’ isn’t loving the Female Lead. On the contrary, it’s just a cheap plot device to give Male Lead #2 a chance to show off. The underlying logic is still heavily male-centric. “True love means paving a smooth road for her, allowing her to step on everyone else as she climbs to the top.” The System fell silent for a long time before finally saying weakly, “But in all the missions I’ve overseen, the plots are always like this. The Female Lead must be misunderstood, framed by villains, and endure every possible hardship before she can rise from the ashes and truly find happiness.” I shook my head, pointing out the glaring flaw: “Then think back to the Male Leads in those stories. Don’t they always come from generational wealth? The greatest hardship they ever experience in their entire lives is a mild stomach ulcer. The Female Lead’s entire happiness relies solely on his love. What happens if he withdraws that love? She is left with absolutely nothing.” I concluded: “These stories are categorized as female romance, but at their core, they are just male power fantasies.” The System finally stopped arguing. It had been completely dismantled by my logic. After a while, it sighed. “But if she leaves Male Lead #2, that’s another plot point missed that could have raised her Happiness Meter. How is the story supposed to progress now…” I didn’t answer it. Because right at that moment, Aurora had finished thinking. Her eyes were dancing with excitement, though she hesitated. “Really? Can we really? But private school tuition is so expensive.” I smiled and ruffled her hair. “Of course we can! Mommy has made quite a bit of money over the years.” Over the years, aside from raising my daughter, I had been diligently running my own business. I hadn’t just sat around waiting for my daughter to marry a billionaire so I could ride her coattails, like in the original plot. Aurora’s eyes grew red, and tears rolled down her cheeks. She hugged me tightly. “Thank you, Mom. I know you’re doing this to give me a better environment. I promise I will study so hard. I won’t let you down!” In that moment, I thought: My daughter has truly grown up. In the past, I’d seen parents who loved “hardship education,” constantly reminding their kids how hard they worked and how much they sacrificed for them. But what’s the point? It just breeds unnecessary guilt. If you genuinely care for your child, they will naturally feel it. I wrapped my arms around Aurora. “Mommy’s biggest hope isn’t that you get perfect grades. It’s that you are truly happy.” 05 The transfer process went incredibly smoothly. With the dark cloud lifted from her mind, she became even more focused on her studies. I also hired a private math tutor for her. She was a female instructor who had graduated from the math department at MIT. Perhaps, currently, there are relatively fewer women who reach the absolute pinnacle in STEM fields. But that doesn’t mean “women are naturally unsuited for STEM.” On the contrary, it’s precisely because there are so many voices of doubt on this path that girls become increasingly discouraged. More than just tutoring, my main goal in hiring this specific instructor was to provide a role model. Even if very few people walk this path, as long as someone has walked it, it proves the path is viable. If someone else can do it, I believe my daughter can do it too. Because she is so brilliant and so resilient. … The day Aurora finished her SATs and college applications, my company was officially incorporated. Standing outside the testing center waiting for her, I asked the System: “Can you check Aurora’s current Happiness Meter?” The System replied: “One moment.” A few seconds later, it gasped in shock: “76%!” I didn’t understand. “Is that high?” The System’s voice was practically trembling. “Very high! Out of all the hosts who started missions at the same time as us, your score is the highest!” Just then, Aurora came skipping out of the testing center. She grabbed my arm, beaming. “Mom! The exams went so well! I’m confident—I guarantee you’ll be getting an acceptance call from MIT!” I smiled and took her backpack. “Oh my goodness! Then I really am riding my little Aurora’s coattails.” In the original novel, the Female Lead had to work multiple part-time jobs just to scrape together tuition while attending college. Despite working incredibly hard, she was still inevitably dragged down by external drama. In the end, she only managed to get into an average state college. In this life, I cleared every obstacle in her path so she could study in peace. And she was able to unleash her full potential, securing a spot at the most prestigious university in the country. The path of her life visibly widened. Even if she never married into a billionaire family, she now had the power to build her own empire. The System sighed in my head. “Host, perhaps your choice was correct. You really did change the trajectory of her life, and you changed my perspective too.” I smirked slightly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. 06 Aurora was accepted into the math department at MIT, just as she hoped. She was invited back to her high school to give a speech. On the auditorium stage, Aurora was radiant. After sharing her study tips, she concluded: “…And finally, I want to say this to all the girls here today. If a teacher ever tells you, ‘Girls aren’t suited for STEM,’ or ‘The boys will eventually overtake you,’ please, absolutely do not believe them. “I am standing here today hoping that in the future, when you start to doubt yourselves or your abilities, you might think of me. Think of the person who got accepted into MIT’s math program. And remember… she was a girl, too.” When she finished, the auditorium erupted in thunderous applause. I saw with my own eyes several girls who had been staring at the floor with bored expressions suddenly snap their heads up, their eyes shining with a fierce light. I also saw the Vice Principal who had once belittled my daughter. His face was a sickly shade of green. The Principal standing next to him suddenly looked like he had an epiphany. As if he finally understood why, no matter how hard he tried to convince us to stay, he couldn’t change my daughter’s determination to leave. I don’t know, nor do I care, how furious that Principal must have been at losing a brilliant student destined for MIT. Because we had already crossed mountains and sailed far beyond them. 07 After Aurora went to college, I fully dedicated myself to my business. We were both fighting hard in our respective fields. Some nosy acquaintances would tell me: “Why are you working so hard? You have a daughter, not a son. It’s not like you have to buy her a house or pay for a wedding.” I would just smile faintly. “Then it must suck to be your daughter. My daughter is lucky. The harder I work now, the less she has to suffer in the future. Everything I have is hers, and it’s definitely not going to be limited to just a house or a measly wedding fund.” The person’s face would sour, and they’d quickly shut up. After they left, the System asked me: “Host, I don’t really understand human emotions. Did she say that because she has a son?” I shook my head. “No. She has a daughter too. An only child.” The System was surprised. “Then why did she say that to you? Does she not love her own daughter?” I fell silent for a long time, unsure how to explain the complexities of human nature to a machine. “Maybe she does love her. But clearly, even though she gave birth to a daughter, she still values sons more.” The belief that you have to grind and hustle if you have a son, but you can kick back and relax if you have a daughter… It’s an insidious form of deeply ingrained sexism. In their hearts, they probably hold more affection for the imaginary son they never had. And because of that, they project those feelings onto sons-in-law or nephews. So, is it love? Maybe it’s love, but it’s a very conditional love. After all, “put your money where your mouth is” is the eternal, unchanging truth.

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  • The Clean Break That Wasn’t

    I went back to his place last week. I wanted to talk, to see if we could fix things, maybe get back together. I pushed the door open, ready to apologize. And I walked in on him leaning down, kissing another girl. Not just any girl. It was Chloe, my college roommate of four years. She was wearing my favorite silk nightgown. Just last night, in our shared apartment, she had suddenly announced she was moving out. She told me that the guy she’d been chasing forever had finally accepted her confession. He wanted her to move in immediately. Like an idiot, I congratulated her. I was genuinely happy she finally got what she wanted. How was I supposed to know her “dream guy” was my ex-boyfriend, Caleb Davis? We’d only been broken up for a week. Talk about a seamless transition. 1 I stood in the doorway, paralyzed with awkwardness. Chloe saw me first. She shrieked, breaking the kiss. “Maya?!” Caleb turned slowly. When our eyes met, there was a flash of surprise in his, but it was quickly replaced by an icy, detached calm. He adjusted his shirt, unfazed, and walked toward me. He stopped just inches away, looking down at me. “What do you want?” he asked. I stared at his collarbone. There was a bright red hickey right there. It was so vivid it hurt to look at. It felt like someone had shoved a fistful of cotton into my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. The words I’d practiced—about begging for another chance—died in my throat. I couldn’t have spoken if I tried. Chloe walked over, offering a weak, slightly apologetic smile. “I didn’t bring my overnight bag,” she said, gesturing to the silk clinging to her body. “I just borrowed your nightgown. Hope you don’t mind.” My head was buzzing. It felt like an explosive device had gone off in my ears. Ignoring my silence, she rushed to defend herself. “Maya, don’t get the wrong idea. Caleb and I only started talking after you guys broke up.” Watching her desperation to clear her name, I felt like a clown. It took me forever to find a logical lie to answer Caleb’s question. “I still have stuff here,” I managed to choke out. “I came to get it.” Caleb was silent for a moment, his face a perfect mask of indifference. “Go ahead.” It was only when I went further inside that I realized what that silence meant. The potted succulent I’d placed on the windowsill was gone. In the bathroom, our matching couples’ toothbrushes had been replaced with a completely different set. The curtains, the bedsheets, the duvet cover—they had all been changed to Chloe’s favorite colors. Even the photo on the bedside table—the one of Caleb and me when we were kids—was gone. In its place was a framed photo of just Chloe. There was nothing for me to pack. This little apartment, the one Caleb and I had decorated together— It was completely scrubbed clean of me. One week. It had only been one week. Everything I owned had been thrown into a single duffel bag and dumped unceremoniously in the corner of the small balcony. Along with my dog. 2 It was a sticky-hot midsummer night. The air was thick and humid, making it hard to catch my breath. I squatted on the cluttered balcony, looking at Lucky, my dog, slumped sadly inside his travel crate. Lucky was a stray Caleb and I had rescued on our first anniversary. We named him Lucky because we felt lucky to have found each other that day. Back then, Caleb had wrapped his arms around me tightly, whispering and smirk, “Every time you call his name, I want you to remember how I feel about you.” Everything was different now. “Lucky,” I whispered. His ears twitched, then stood straight up. He saw it was me and started whining excitedly, ready to jump all over me like he always did. Then he realized he was trapped in the crate and settled down, just looking at me and wagging his tail. My eyes burned, uncontrolled. The tidal wave of grief I’d been suppressing finally broke over me. I stormed back into the living room. “I don’t care about the other stuff,” I said, my voice shaking. “But Lucky was abused before we got him. He’s terrified of being crated alone—” “You know the situation,” Caleb interrupted. He didn’t look at me; he just glanced at Chloe. His tone was perfectly flat. “She’s deathly afraid of dogs.” The rest of my words died in my throat. …She’s afraid of dogs. So that was the reason. A dull, throbbing ache began to spread through my entire body. 3 I had first noticed something off between Caleb and Chloe about two months ago. Graduation was approaching. He had just accepted a great job offer and was incredibly busy. If I texted him at night, I wouldn’t get a reply until morning. When I called, he’d hang up after a few sentences. “Oh, stop overthinking it. He’s just stressed with finals and the new job,” Chloe had told me then, comforting me as I sat on my bed feeling miserable. On Valentine’s Day, Chloe came home and handed me two movie tickets. I wanted to fix things with Caleb, so I invited him out. Halfway through the movie, he seemed completely detached, constantly checking his phone. “Maya, I have to take this call outside. It’s about a group project. Be right back.” Before I could even answer, he grabbed his jacket and hurried out. Caleb never came back. Not even after the credits rolled. I walked out with the crowd, and I saw him leaning against the far wall of the lobby, waiting. He was looking down, deep in thought. I noticed something then. His button-down shirt was fastened wrong. The top two buttons were in the wrong holes, creating a bunch in the fabric. When he saw me, he just offered a terse, “Project call went long. I lost track of time.” “What kind of project takes an entire movie to discuss?” I asked. What was his reply? He didn’t even bother to make up a convincing lie. “If you’re going to be paranoid, I can’t help you.” Back in our shared apartment, I was scrolling through social media, my heart sinking. And there it was. Chloe’s latest post. A photo of two cups of milk tea, half-drunk. And two movie stubs. No text, just a heart emoji. The apartment was silent. I could hear Chloe’s shallow breathing from the other room. I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I texted her. Were you at the theater across the street from the one on Main Street tonight? Chloe: Yeah. Why? Maya: Were you with the guy you like? Chloe was silent for a long time. Then: Yeah. Later that week, I went for a walk on the campus quad with Caleb. I was walking ahead of him, wrapped in silence. Caleb, sensing my mood, caught up to grab my hand. “What’s wrong?” I only said one thing. “Chloe was at that same movie theater the other night.” The air between us went still. But only for a second. Caleb tightened his grip on my hand. “Maya, that’s just a coincidence.” I looked into his eyes. They seemed so sincere, so apologetic. I didn’t pull my hand away. We’d been together for so long. We had always assumed we were each other’s futures. I shouldn’t doubt him based on a hunch. Besides, I knew Chloe had had a massive crush on a guy for four years. I’d seen his photo. She hadn’t even dated anyone else, just waiting for him. She wouldn’t be with Caleb. There’s no way. Probably. 4 Maybe it was my imagination, but Caleb was different after that day. Cold. Distant. As finals approached, Caleb got even busier. We hadn’t seen each other in a week. Finally, on Caleb’s birthday, I baked a cake from scratch and walked to the off-campus house he shared with some other guys. I pushed the door open, expecting a small surprise for him. I walked in to find a huge party. Caleb was front and center, about to cut the cake. Chloe was right next to him. She was practically tucked into his armpit. Her hand was resting on top of his, both of them holding the knife handle, ready to slice downward. The room went dead silent. Everyone was staring at me. Caleb looked up. His expression was blank. He didn’t remove his hand from hers. “Go on,” he said to her, totally ignoring me. But Chloe pulled her hand back, giving me a complicated, shadowed look. Someone from Caleb’s group quickly jumped in to diffuse the tension with a weak lie. “Since it’s also Chloe’s birthday today, we thought we’d save money and have them cut one cake together. Don’t worry about it!” I listened to his poor attempt to hide the truth, and I felt my stomach drop, inch by inch. How could I not worry about it? All the exhaustion, the insecurity, the suspicions of the last few weeks—seeing them like that, everything coalesced into solid, painful proof. After the party, Caleb and I got into a screaming match. Or rather, I single-handedly went into hysterics while he stood there like a statue. “I’m your girlfriend! Why did you throw a birthday party and not invite me?” “You’re too busy? You have time to cut a cake with Chloe, but you can’t text me back for hours?” …Finally, my voice was choking up. “Caleb, do you even still want to be with me?” He didn’t answer. The familiar silence settled back in. I grabbed the back of a chair, my strength failing. I sank to the floor, my face buried in my knees, crying silently. This was the Caleb who used to tell me every little thing. The Caleb who promised to marry me right after graduation. The Caleb who said he’d never let me feel insecure. That Caleb finally had nothing to say to me. In a moment of blind pain, I said it. “I’m done. Let’s break up.” He didn’t even flinch. He just nodded coldly. “If that’s what you want.” 5 On the fifth day after we broke up, one of Caleb’s friends tried to act as a mediator. “We just showed up at Caleb’s house to surprise him on his birthday, Maya. He really didn’t know we were all going to be there.” “Okay, maybe he was a little careless, I’ll admit that. But he was drowning in finals and trying to secure that job. Don’t you think you were being a little high-maintenance? Even in a relationship, people need some space, right?” Chloe was equally dismissive. “Maya, I told you I have someone I like! I showed you his picture! Caleb is your boyfriend. How could I ever try to take him from you?” Their logical explanations ate at me. I started to wonder if I was being high-maintenance, if I’d acted impulsively. I made up my mind to talk to Caleb one more time. And I walked in on them kissing. We’d only been broken up for a week, and he had already accepted her confession. Seamless. Zero-day-gap transition. 6 I took Lucky home with me that night. My dorm didn’t allow pets, so I had to temporarily set him up at my parents’ house. That night, curled in my bed, all I could see was them kissing. My brain was betraying me, visualizing even more intimate details. My head pounded, a tight, tense feeling at the base of my skull. I felt sick. I ended up posting a question on an anonymous forum about “zero-day transitions,” venting all the pain and confusion I’d been holding inside. I didn’t expect to wake up to a viral thread. 99+ notifications. Top comment: Why did he agree to the breakup instantly? Reply: I agree. In that short a timeframe, it’s never a ‘seamless transition.’ The third party was just waiting, and the breakup was the perfect excuse to legitimize the affair. The internet investigators quickly got to work. Using my location tags and a few landmarks I had mentioned, they tracked down our university. They actually managed to figure out the people involved were me, Caleb, and Chloe. The thread exploded. Tons of our classmates were weighing in. “Chloe seemed so innocent. I can’t believe she’s a homewrecker. Gross.” “I know the ex. Caleb Davis. He’s the top student in the math department. Definitely a hottie with a great voice. No wonder she stole him…” “Is anyone else noticing that Maya said he had his shirt buttons fastened wrong after the movie? What was he hiding…” I read through the flood of comments, a complex mix of emotions washing over me. My phone was vibrating constantly. Missed calls. Thousands of texts. They were all from Caleb. I decided to just turn my phone off. I went downstairs to grab a coffee. From across the street, I saw Caleb standing at the entrance to my apartment complex. When he saw me come out, he marched over, his face rigid with a cold command. “Take the post down. Now.” 7 Thinking about those anonymous comments, I couldn’t help but ask. “When did it really start between you two?” “The movie night? Or even earlier?” Caleb stared at me, his face devoid of emotion. “Is discussing that even useful now, Maya?” He didn’t answer directly, but he didn’t deny it, either. I had my answer. I actually wanted to laugh. Laugh at myself, laugh at him. “Caleb, if you fell out of love with me, you could have just said so. I wouldn’t have chased you. But why this—” “I’m telling you one last time,” he cut in, his voice dropping an octave, a thin thread of threat in his tone. “Letting this escalate is not going to do you any favors. Take. The. Post. Down.” I looked at him silently, a wave of profound displacement washing over me. Was this the same Caleb I had known my entire life? When we were kids, my family wasn’t doing well. A girl in my class didn’t like me and accused me of stealing from her. She yanked my hair and took a hair clip she’d “searched” from my backpack—a little butterfly clip—and shoved it into my hand. “You’ve probably never even had anything this nice,” she’d sneered. “Stealing a cheap hair clip. Your family must be so poor.” At the time, everyone believed her. Everyone was calling me a thief. Only Caleb stood up. He calmly told the teacher he’d seen the girl put the clip in my bag herself. Because of that day, we started getting closer. But now, this cold, ruthless, and dangerous Caleb was standing in front of me. He didn’t even have the patience to let me finish a single sentence. The person he wanted to protect… it wasn’t me anymore. The wave of desolation and bitterness was almost enough to break me. Finally, I whispered, “No, I won’t take it down,” and ran away. That evening, when I went downstairs to pick up a food delivery, I could feel people staring. “Birds of a feather, right? Neither of them are clean.” “She probably just wants the attention.” I had a bad feeling about this. I went upstairs and turned my phone on. Sure enough, someone had posted an anonymous reply to my original thread—complete with “proof.” Photo Evidence: A year ago, a ‘certain person’ was already hooking up with another guy behind her boyfriend’s back! The post went into vivid detail, describing how I had cheated on Caleb, and that my entire story now was just a play for pity and a way to destroy my ex’s reputation. Her “evidence” was far more convincing than mine. She had photos. In the photos, a tall, striking guy and I were standing in front of a hotel entrance. I was holding his arm, and his hand was around my waist, pulling me in. It was incredibly intimate. The lighting was dim, but you could see the guy looking down at me, his face close to mine. This guy was definitely not Caleb. 8 Probably because my original post had so much traffic, this reply went viral instantly. A portion of the commenters did a complete 1/80, using the same slurs they’d used for Chloe and aiming them at me, only worse. Then, a new comment got upvoted to the top. Wait a minute. Isn’t that Liam Carter, the ‘untouchable’ guy from A&T University? Below it were top-voted replies: “No way! Why would a guy like Liam even look at her?” “I think he has a girlfriend. She’s a humanities major…” “Tsk. So, Maya was a homewrecker herself? The cheater is crying about being cheated on!” … I fought back my rage and dialed Chloe’s number. “You posted that, didn’t you?” Chloe giggled on the other end. “So what if I did?” “Maya, you started this. I’m just hitting back.” I wanted to speak, but a quiet gasp from her interrupted me. “Hold on, I’m on a call,” Chloe giggled, her voice dropping. Caleb’s voice came through, sounding completely distracted. “What’s there to talk about with her?” Then the line went dead. But not before I heard their breathing getting heavy, followed by the soft, distinct sound of a zipper. I hung up violently. My hand was shaking so badly I couldn’t hold the phone. When I finally caught my breath, I sent a text to a number I hadn’t used in months. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I will fix it. I’m incredibly sorry. I waited for several minutes before I got a reply. It’s fine. Just two words. I felt a small release of pressure in my chest. I wasn’t actually close to Liam Carter. For him, this was completely unwarranted drama. Liam was a friend of my younger cousin. Six months ago, my cousin had Liam come to town to hang out, and I had helped them book a hotel room. At the time, I was looking down at my phone, replying to a message, and almost walked right into traffic. Liam had grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back, checking if I was okay. Chloe had been there that day. She must have secretly taken the photos. I felt like the world was a truly bizarre place. Even after my cousin, Liam, and I all posted explanations and even shared the original hotel booking information, the commenters were having none of it. Maybe they didn’t want the truth. They wanted the spectacle. They wanted a definitive “who wins” outcome. My life was undeniably affected. Walking around campus, I could feel the stares. That’s when Chloe sent me a text. She wanted to meet and talk, face-to-face. 9 My cousin knew I had a soft heart and was worried I wouldn’t be able to handle her alone. He offered to come, but I refused. I chose a coffee shop for the meeting. When I arrived, Chloe and Caleb were already sitting in a booth. “Oh, look, Maya’s here.” I ignored Chloe. I walked over and sat down, a wall of silence. I could feel a cold, piercing gaze on me, but I stared straight at Chloe. “What did you want to talk about?” “Talk?” Chloe covered her mouth, her laugh exaggerated. “You aren’t exactly in a position to talk terms with me, honey.” I was so angry I laughed. “Chloe, the ‘guy you liked’ for four years… it was Caleb, wasn’t it? You were with him the entire time. You were lying to me.” “Guilty,” she said, practically beaming. “I fell for Caleb on the first day of freshman year.” I tightened my fists under the table. “That time at the movie theater, when Caleb left, did he go to your screen—” “No.” I was confused. “We went to the bathroom,” Chloe said, drawing out the words with a slow, toxic sweetness. “Enough!” I cut her off. I did not want to hear another word about that from her. Even though I’d suspected it, hearing it confirmed still cut like a knife. “Caleb…” She was saying it to me, but I didn’t hear a shred of remorse in her voice. “I can take down the post I made about you and Liam.” “But you… you must take your post down and publicly apologize to me.” “Never!” I was shaking. Chloe suddenly slid a stack of photos across the table. “You won’t take down the post, you won’t publicly apologize—” But the rest of her sentence was lost to me. The moment I saw the photos, my mind went completely blank. “How do you have these photos…” “How do you know…” I stared at the images, my brain completely offline, memory fragments flashing back to that time. After Caleb had stood up for me and proven the girl had framed me for stealing the hair clip, the girl’s group had started targeting me. She had an older brother who was in a gang at a different high school. Most people were too afraid to cross him. Caleb always used to wear long sleeves and long pants, even in summer, and always wore a face mask. When I found out he had injuries, he never said a word, just let me put ointment on him. I used to cry while applying the medication. He would be the one awkwardly comforting me, holding back his own pain. “I’m fine. Really. Stop crying. It doesn’t even hurt.” Then one day, I was walking down an alleyway and saw him. He was on the ground, and the girl’s brother had his boot on Caleb’s hand, pressing his fingers into the asphalt. I realized then what he had been enduring for weeks. I hadn’t even stopped to think. I just rushed over, trying to push the guy’s leg off, begging them to stop hurting Caleb. I warned them the school security was coming. Then he grabbed my face in his powerful, calloused hand. He clearly didn’t believe me. He stared at me with a playful, dangerous grin. “School security? Sounds impressive. Looks like we can’t wait that long. But if you give me something to remember you by, I might let him go.” I fought him with everything I had, but it was useless. The tears were streaming down my face. Caleb was lying on the ground, unconscious. … Later, Caleb had somehow managed to get the photos back. He’d held me so tightly, his eyes red and raw, and whispered, “I am never going to let anyone hurt you again.” … But how did Chloe have these photos? How could she possibly know about this? “How do you know?” Chloe’s voice was neither high nor low, but it felt like a needle driving straight into my heart. “Haven’t you already guessed?” My head was buzzing violently. I turned to look at Caleb. He averted his gaze. 9 (Continued) I went completely still. I could only manage to whisper, “Why…” You told me you would never let anyone hurt me again. Caleb’s face instantly drained of color. He grabbed Chloe’s wrist. “We said we’d just make her take the post down. Why did you bring these photos out?” “…Well, she said she wouldn’t do it! Weren’t you listening?” Chloe tried to pull her hand back, but he held her tightly. She looked at him with a look of pure, toxic betrayal. “Caleb, you are actually crazy. You are the one who told me this whole story. Are you seriously feeling sorry for her now?” Caleb went still. After a long silence, he slowly, stiffly, turned to look at me. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Maya, believe me, I didn’t think she would—” I grabbed the cup of hot coffee in front of me and threw it directly into his face. There was a muffled thud as the heavy ceramic hit his temple. Bright red blood mixed with the thick coffee, streaming down his forehead, instantly soaking half his face. Caleb didn’t even seem to feel the pain. He just stared at me, dumbfounded. In his eyes, I saw my own reflection. I saw a monster. “Caleb, you are actually sickening.” That memory was something I was too terrified to even dream about. For years, I would start shaking at the mere sight of a hair clip. I was beginning to wonder if Caleb had ever actually liked me. If he had, how could he have used that as a talking point with another girl? … We were making such a scene that the other customers were beginning to whisper. “That girl looks familiar…” “Isn’t that Maya Si? The one who stole another girl’s boyfriend and then got cheated on herself?” “Yes, yes, yes! I saw that photo.” Several people pulled out their phones, pointing them at me, ready to record. Caleb suddenly roared, “What are you recording?!” The customers flinched and quickly put their phones away and hurried out. I stared at Chloe. “I am not taking the post down. And I am not apologizing to you.” Chloe was stunned. “Aren’t you afraid that—” I pulled my phone out from where it had been resting face-down on the table. The screen showed an active recording. I pressed stop and saved the file, clenching the phone in my hand. “You can spread those photos all you want,” I said, my voice dead calm. “But the moment you do, that is a crime. I will call the police, and I will hand them this recording of you two using them to blackmail me.” Chloe’s face went bone-white. It took her several seconds to find her voice. “Are you really not afraid of people seeing those photos?” I was silent for a moment. “At the time, I was too young. When I was bullied, I just silently endured it. I was too terrified to tell anyone.” “I was afraid of worrying my parents, afraid of the gossip, afraid of seeing that pity in people’s eyes.” “But when I really think about it, what do I have to be afraid of?” “It wasn’t my fault that I was framed. It wasn’t my fault that a monster took those photos. Even my past self, the one who was too terrified to call the police, wasn’t at fault.” “The fault lies with the bullies. The fault lies with the heartless bystanders who tell jokes. And the fault lies with you two, for using those photos to threaten me.” Chloe’s face was now a complete mask of hatred. “And,” I continued, “your attempt to blackmail me is also illegal. This recording is all I need. I can go to the police right now.” “Graduation is coming up. I assume you don’t want to be expelled.” Chloe stared at me. “What do you want?” I didn’t hesitate. “First, give me the photos, all of them. Second, take down the post about me and Liam Carter. Third, tell the actual truth, and publicly apologize to Liam and to me.” Before Chloe could speak, Caleb quickly said, “Fine.” His lips were trembling, his eyes filled with a complex storm of emotions. “I’m sorry, Maya.” For the next half hour, I watched Chloe pull out her phone, delete the post, and then type out a public apology. The new post went viral instantly. “I knew there was a plot twist!” “A homewrecker is a homewrecker. She stole the guy, and she was good at making up rumors.” “Tsk. Maya seems kinda pitiful.” … I gathered the stack of photos from the table. “Is this all?” “That’s everything.” Caleb’s voice was barely a whisper. “Maya, you don’t need to be so defensive around me.” I didn’t answer him. I packed the photos into my bag, turned around, and walked out of the coffee shop. Behind me, Caleb was calling my name, but I didn’t look back. I walked out of the coffee shop and called my cousin. I just told him it was all fixed. I didn’t mention the photos. After the call, I stood on the street corner for a moment, just letting the desolation wash over me. When I finally caught my breath and was about to call an Uber, a figure walked out of the coffee shop. It was Liam Carter. We both froze for a second. Liam nodded at me. “Maya.”

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  • The Price of a “Lucky” Kid

    My brother didn’t do well on his high school entrance exams, and the out-of-district enrollment fee was $10,000. My biological mom came to me for help: “Maya, your brother is at the age where he needs a good education, and Mom has no other way. “It just so happens there’s cash in the register at the supermarket where I work. I’ll bring the money home after my shift today. You just say you stole it, and I’ll call the cops to take you away. “When your Uncle Bob finds out, he’ll definitely bring the money to bail you out. Once the money is paid back, you’ll be fine, and your brother will have his enrollment fee.” I never imagined she could be this shameless, and I flat-out refused. But she kept crying to me about how hard life was for her and my dad, begging me to help them just this once. I had finally had enough. “Why should I help? If your life is hard, is it my fault?” “Looks to me like you guys have it pretty easy having kids! If you have nothing better to do, why don’t you watch more TV?” 1 My health has been poor since I was born. Getting sick twice a month, with one illness lasting fifteen days. My mom’s payday and my dad’s payday were basically the trigger buttons for my illnesses. My Uncle Bob always joked, “This one’s a lucky charm.” My parents, however, scoffed at that, especially when they found out my mom was pregnant again. Because having a second child meant a hefty fine back then, and they simply couldn’t afford it. I don’t know who gave my mom the awful idea, but she threw all my clothes into a tattered backpack and dumped me on Uncle Bob’s doorstep. Before leaving, she repeatedly warned me: “Your Uncle Bob always says you’re a lucky charm. Today, I’m giving that luck to him. “Your Aunt Sarah is a barren hen who can’t lay eggs. If I give her a child, shouldn’t she be eternally grateful? “Be a good girl. Your Uncle Bob married into her family; he doesn’t have much say or status in that house. “You need to know your place and read the room. Don’t act like you’re still at home, completely oblivious.” “Just stay there and get fed. Don’t forget to come home during winter and summer breaks. Once your brother is born, you can help me out.” After dropping those words, she took off running. She looked like the devil himself was chasing her. The door was shut tight, and because the eaves were small, there wasn’t a sliver of shade on the porch. I was baking under the blazing sun for four hours. By the time Uncle Bob and Aunt Sarah came home, I was barely breathing. From afar, I heard a gasp: “Bob, what’s lying on our porch?” Then came Uncle Bob’s voice: “Looks like a little kid.” Aunt Sarah’s voice sounded a bit resentful: “You must be going crazy wanting a kid, right? Whose kid is as thin as a reed?” Uncle Bob didn’t argue back, and I secretly thought to myself: “Uncle Bob really doesn’t have any status in this house. I definitely can’t cause him any trouble. He always seemed to like me so much.” My consciousness grew increasingly blurry, and finally, all I could hear was a buzzing sound in my ears. 2 When I woke up, I felt a cool sensation underneath me. I looked closely and realized it was a bamboo cooling mat. This was a rare luxury for us back then; my parents had talked about buying one for two years but couldn’t bring themselves to spend the money. I remembered what my mom had said: “Your Uncle Bob really hit the jackpot marrying into her family. He might not have the pride of being the head of the household, but he definitely has the perks. “Every time he brings gifts, they’re the newest and most expensive things on the market.” What reached my ears was the sound of an argument. The voices weren’t loud, and the words weren’t overly heated, but every sentence insisted that the child had to be sent back. “What is going on with your older brother and sister-in-law? They ignore us for a century, and even when we go back and bring gifts, they don’t even look us in the eye. “Now they just dump a kid on our doorstep. If you accept this, you’re a complete pushover! “Other people might not know what’s going on, but do you think we don’t? “When we went back for Christmas, your sister-in-law’s belly couldn’t be hidden anymore. She kept telling me she just gained weight. They can’t even afford a decent meal in that house! “Now she’s probably about to give birth! I heard the fine for having another kid is thousands of dollars now. “Your brother and sister-in-law definitely don’t want to pay that, so they kicked Maya out and sent her to you!” Uncle Bob said: “Keep your voice down, don’t wake the child.” “Am I not speaking quietly enough? Everyone knows I, Sarah Davis, have a loud voice! I’m restraining myself as much as I can. “I don’t care. First thing tomorrow morning, you’re sending her back. I’m not going to vaguely raise someone else’s kid!” When people feel sad, they usually miss home a little bit. But all that came to my mind was my dad’s drunken stupors and my mom’s complaints and angry scolding. I touched the bamboo mat beneath me, thinking: Just let me enjoy this cool, sweet dream from tonight until dawn. 3 Early the next morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, something was stuffed into my mouth. Aunt Sarah was watching me from the side, so I didn’t dare spit it out. Just as I was about to swallow, she patted me: “Are you silly? It’s a chewy candy, you have to chew it. “If you swallow it whole and choke to death, your mom will come looking for me for compensation, won’t she?” I hurriedly wanted to say no, but because the candy in my mouth was too big, I couldn’t get a word out and instead drooled a few drops. Aunt Sarah probably found me disgusting, stepped back a bit, and tossed a few more candies my way: “If you feel dizzy, eat one.” She pointed to a tin can behind her: “They’re all in there. Put two in your pocket before you leave.” It was a deep red tin box with a beautiful holiday design on it. It was a famous brand, the kind families usually only bought during the holidays. My mom bought a box one year. I would sneak one every few days, sneak one every few days. Before the holidays even arrived, it was empty, and my mom gave me a good beating for it. After that, we never bought them again. I only remembered the mouth-watering sweetness. I chewed hard a few times. It was still just as fragrant and sweet. It felt like all my worries were just being chewed up and tossed to the back of my mind. Right before lunchtime, I heard Uncle Bob say: “After lunch, I’m going to my brother’s house.” Was he going to send me back? But Mom said that wasn’t my home anymore, otherwise, my little brother wouldn’t be able to be born. I couldn’t help but look at the candy tin again, wondering if I could grab two more before I left? Aunt Sarah was probably just being polite; nobody likes a greedy kid. Sure enough, Uncle Bob said: “Maya, why are you still chewing candy right before lunch?” I thought he was going to scold me, but then he said: “It’s fine if it’s right before lunch, but remember to brush your teeth after eating candy next time. Cavities hurt like crazy.” 4 I nervously finished my lunch that day. I thought I would lose my appetite from worrying, but the sweet and sour ribs were just too good. Even though the flavor was strong, it was different from what I remembered. I ate four or five pieces in a row. By the time I remembered my mom’s instruction to “eat less when you’re at someone else’s house,” it was too late. Aunt Sarah clicked her tongue, and I quickly put down my chopsticks. But then she said to Uncle Bob: “Bob, your brother’s family lives way too rough. Don’t they ever feed the kid meat?” “The kid has been sick a lot. Our Maya has a weak constitution, and they can’t save much money.” Aunt Sarah rolled her eyes: “How much does a cold or a fever cost? You just listen to their excuses; they just want to get money out of you. “The kid can eat this much, how bad can her health be? They’re saving up to have a son, how could they not have money saved? “Just wait and see, they’ll build a new house within two years.” Uncle Bob glanced at me and said to Aunt Sarah: “Don’t talk nonsense in front of the child. Eat up, Maya. Isn’t your Aunt Sarah’s cooking just okay? “Next time, Uncle Bob will show you his skills; you won’t even want to look at these ribs!” Aunt Sarah ignored him: “I’m not talking nonsense. Only you treat kids like idiots; they know exactly what’s going on. “Hurry up and finish eating and get out of here. Don’t come back until things are sorted. It annoys me just looking at you Smiths.” Since my last name was also Smith, I quickly scarfed down the food in my bowl. Uncle Bob, also a Smith, was even faster than me. He threw his chopsticks down and said to us: “Wait here, I’ll be right back. Don’t cook dinner; it’s a waste of food.” 5 I watched longingly as Uncle Bob hopped on his bike and sped away. I only had one thought in my head: Did he forget to take me with him? Aunt Sarah tapped the table and asked me: “Is the sweet and sour pork bitter?” I nodded honestly: “It’s bitter, but the meat is very savory.” Aunt Sarah also threw down her chopsticks, with the exact same expression as Uncle Bob: “Wait here. Your Uncle Bob will be right back. When he gets back, I’ll make you a fresh batch.” I watched her stand up to clear the table, about to dump the remaining ribs into the trash. I quickly, with lightning speed, scraped them all into my bowl. “Aunt Sarah, I can still eat it. I think it’s delicious.” While clearing the bowls, Aunt Sarah muttered: “How did that bad apple of a family produce such a clever kid? Why does our Bob always get the short end of the stick when he’s such a good guy!” That afternoon, Aunt Sarah and I didn’t do anything. We just sat on the porch without eaves, waiting for Uncle Bob all afternoon. The weather was cooperating; it wasn’t a blazing sun like the day before. Instead, there was a gentle breeze from time to time, which was quite pleasant. I cautiously asked Aunt Sarah: “Are there crops in the field? I can help plant and harvest.” I raised my arm to her: “Don’t let my skinny arms and legs fool you; I’m really strong and I’m great at chores.” Just then, someone walked by the door carrying soybean stalks, and I immediately added: “I know how to shell soybeans too. I’m fast and good at it. I’m not afraid of the itch, and I’m not afraid of the fuzzy caterpillars.” Aunt Sarah didn’t say anything, just kept staring straight ahead until a figure appeared at the end of the road. It was Uncle Bob pedaling his bike back! He was holding something up in his hand, shouting towards us: “It’s done!” 6 I didn’t know what he meant by “it’s done,” but he looked very excited, and even Aunt Sarah couldn’t help but smile, her eyes crinkling. She tucked a reddish-brown booklet into her pocket and said: “Let’s have lamb hotpot for dinner tonight. My dad bought a sheep from the market, had it butchered, and told us to come pick it up.” Uncle Bob laughed, walked up to me, and ruffled my hair: “Let’s go. I’ll take Maya to Dad’s place and tell him the news.” I was still in a state of confusion, completely unaware of what had happened, standing there blankly without reacting. Aunt Sarah said from the side: “We can’t call her Maya anymore; it sounds terrible. Maya, Maya, Maya… I think their miserable lives are because of this name!” Uncle Bob laughed good-naturedly: “The name on the family register is the one you picked before.” After saying this, he patted my head: “Then let’s call you Stella. Bright and shining. From now on, the three of us will live a beautiful life.” Stella? What a beautiful, bright name. When my mom called my name before, I didn’t think there was anything weird about it. But after I started school and learned phonetics, I realized she was mispronouncing it. I corrected her many times, but she never changed it. Sometimes she would impatiently snap at me: “That’s just my accent, I can’t change it. Stop bothering me with such trivial things.” When Aunt Sarah opened the family register to show me my name, she suddenly froze. Before I could see what was wrong, she said to Uncle Bob: “Didn’t we agree yesterday to only change her first name and not her last name?” Uncle Bob was still smiling: “I married into your family. It’s so hard for us to have a child; of course, she has to take your last name. “Besides, I think Davis sounds better than Smith. Stella Davis, what a bright name.” That day, Aunt Sarah kept staring at Uncle Bob, her eyes brighter than the stars outside. 7 That night, I went to Aunt Sarah’s childhood home. It sounds far, but in reality, it was just one wall away. Usually, if you spoke a little louder, you could hear everything perfectly from the back. We had just finished talking about going to get the lamb when a shout came from over there: “What do you mean ‘pick it up’? I’ll just cook it here and you guys can come over and eat!” The tone of voice was exactly like Aunt Sarah’s. As soon as we walked in the door, the energetic grandpa said: “Little girl is so shy, not even greeting anyone?” I hurriedly called out “Grandpa.” He seemed quite happy and magically pulled a red envelope from his pocket: “Here, a welcome gift.” I froze, and Uncle Bob was equally surprised: “Dad, when did you prepare this?” “With you two yelling so loud, I could hear you from two miles away. Did you bring the family register? Let me see.” Uncle Bob immediately turned around and left. Aunt Sarah didn’t stop him; she just pulled the reddish-brown booklet from her pocket and handed it to Grandpa. The old man’s eyes instantly welled up: “This is great. This is a good name too. You two finally have a child. Now you can really enjoy life.” I still didn’t have a strong sense of reality. I didn’t quite understand what the family register meant for me until Grandpa said: “From now on, you’ll live with your Uncle Bob and Aunt Sarah, and you’ll take care of them when they’re old, understand?” I nodded quickly, and Aunt Sarah waved her hand dismissively: “I’m not expecting that. Did you keep me around just so I could take care of you in your old age?” Grandpa glared, his beard puffing out: “Is that the same thing? You can’t have kids, and your health isn’t good. “If I didn’t keep you close, you’d be tortured to death by your in-laws!” “Exactly. My personality is just like yours. Raising a child isn’t just an insurance policy for old age; I just love kids.” When Uncle Bob ran back in, groaning, “Oh no,” and saying he seemed to have lost the newly issued family register, the few of us couldn’t help but laugh together. 8 The lamb hotpot was so incredibly delicious. I dreamed of eating it for days afterward, smacking my lips every morning when I woke up. Seeing how much I craved it, Aunt Sarah had Grandpa make me a bowl of lamb noodle soup. I was sitting in the living room, eagerly devouring it, when my mom walked in. Her eyes were sharp; they lit up instantly, and she called out to me. “Maya, Mom wasn’t wrong, was she? Sending you here was for you to enjoy life. Looks to me like you’re eating better here than at home.” I moved the noodle bowl away from her. She seemed unable to stand the smell and almost gagged. I quickly moved the noodles further away, afraid she would contaminate my food. “Mom’s due date is approaching, you need to come back with Mom. It’s summer vacation, so you can take care of Mom during her postpartum recovery, and also help turn the soil in the fields. “You can come back when school starts. After all, your Uncle Bob and Aunt Sarah both have to work; they’re factory workers and don’t have time to take care of you. It’s boring for you here anyway.” Just as I was at a loss for what to do, a vigorous shout came from next door: “Is Stella home?” I immediately answered “Yes,” which also answered my mom’s blurted question, “Who is Stella?” Under her astonished gaze, I hurried outside. When I returned, I was holding freshly made cornbread and stir-fried vegetables. My mom found it even more unbelievable: “Didn’t you just eat noodles? How can you still eat all this cornbread?” I whispered: “Aunt Sarah and Grandpa both said growing kids get hungry fast.” My mom scoffed: “Must have too much money to burn! Hurry up and pack your clothes to leave with Mom. My stomach is starting to hurt; if we wait any longer, I’m afraid I’ll give birth on the road.” “Your Aunt Sarah keeps this place clean and tidy, and gives you good food. If I don’t come get you soon, you probably won’t even know where your real home is.” For once, I talked back: “This is my home. Aunt Sarah said people on the same family register are one family.”

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  • I Accidentally Gifted a Yacht to the Wrong Guy, Now My Former Favorite Streamer is Begging Me.

    While tipping on a male idol group’s livestream, I accidentally tapped the wrong button and sent a virtual Yacht to my favorite guy’s teammate. The guy I usually tipped played it cool on stream. But as soon as the camera was off, he—who had been leaving me on read for a month—sent me a DM for the first time. [I’m going to send you 52 Carnivals right now to make up for it, otherwise I might just have to punish you, babe.] I froze. A minute later, I received a DM from the teammate I accidentally tipped. [Thank you so much! That was my first time ever receiving a Yacht. I’ll remember this forever. /Heart] Oh. So this is the kind of emotional return you’re supposed to get when you tip. Guess I’ll just switch to supporting the one who actually appreciates it. Later, when the original guy saw me casually drop 520 Carnivals on his teammate, he had a complete meltdown. He started screaming on stream, demanding I get a refund, insisting I must have clicked the wrong person. 01 When I received the DM from Tyler, I felt a bit uncomfortable. But then I thought about it. It was my fault for sending the gift to the wrong person, which messed up his chance to shine. Plus, I had exclusively tipped Tyler in this stream room. Suddenly sending a top-tier gift like a Sports Car to his rival—it was understandable he’d feel a way about it. After all, even heartthrobs are allowed to have a little temper. Just as I was about to send him ten Yachts to make up for it, another notification popped up. [System Notification: KU-Liam has followed you.] Immediately after, a DM popped up from that account. KU-Liam: [Thank you so much! That was my first time ever receiving a Yacht. I’ll remember this forever. /Heart] I paused for a few seconds, clicking into his profile to enlarge his avatar, barely managing to connect it to the face under the heavy filters on the livestream. Liam. I think he’s the guy I just accidentally sent the gift to. Looking closer, his face actually wasn’t any less handsome than Tyler’s. The styling on the stream clearly wasn’t doing him any favors; he looked much more refined and handsome in his natural state. But it couldn’t be helped. He had only joined a few days ago and was always relegated to the back row. In a ten-person group stream, if you could see two-thirds of his face on screen, it was considered a good day. He clearly didn’t know that the tip earlier was just a blunder. His words were actually quite… sincere. It was just one Yacht. There was no need to explain it so clearly and ruin his happiness. I didn’t plan to reply. Just as I was about to exit, he sent another message. KU-Liam: [I promise I’ll work even harder on my dancing! I won’t let your encouragement go to waste!] Wow, he really was a pitiful little underdog that made you want to root for him. He thanked me multiple times for just one Yacht. I politely replied with a [Keep it up], then prepared to head back to the stream to make it up to Tyler. But right at that moment, my phone started blowing up with notifications. They were all from Tyler. KU-Tyler: [?] [Did you not see my message?] [Why aren’t you tipping me yet?] [What’s the meaning of this?] [So, you’re purposely tipping someone else to make me mad?] [Fine.] [I get it.] I was completely confused and replied with a [?] Only to receive a red exclamation mark indicating the message couldn’t be sent. ? Wait, he actually blocked me?! A surge of anger flared up in my chest. I’ve been supporting him for two months, dropping at least a hundred grand on his streams. Just because I accidentally sent one gift to the wrong person, he’s throwing a tantrum at me? Fine. If he thinks he’s too good for my money, there are plenty of others who will gladly take it. I’m done playing his game. Just as I was angrily about to delete the app, my eyes inadvertently caught the message from that pitiful little underdog again. My thumb stopped hovering over the delete button. I can be ruthless when I want to be. But the one thing I can’t resist is a handsome, struggling underdog who’s trying his best. Even if it was an act, at least he was willing to put in the effort to put on a show for me. So, I marched right back into the livestream. 02 As soon as I re-entered the stream, the host specifically called me out. “Our boy Tyler’s top supporter, Yacht Queen, is back! Oh man, Tyler’s got this in the bag tonight.” This boy band streaming group had only been formed two months ago and was still in its growing phase. They didn’t have that many hardcore fans, so I was definitely one of the top tippers. And I have OCD; whenever I tip, I only send Yachts (worth about $100 each). It’s very memorable. Hearing the host mention my name, Tyler gave a barely perceptible smirk. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual aloof demeanor. Right then, a new viewer with a beautiful girl as her avatar joined and immediately sent him a Sports Car. [This guy is so handsome, completely my type. Love it.] The host thanked her for the tip as usual, and read her comment out loud. Tyler broke into a shy smile. After finishing his dance routine, as if deliberately trying to make me mad, he actually made a heart shape with his hands—a rare occurrence—and personally thanked her. “Thank you for the Sports Car, gorgeous! Please keep supporting me!” The chat went crazy. [Holy shit, I’ve never seen Tyler act so shy but enthusiastic.] [First time seeing Tyler make a heart shape! Rich girls, drop more Sports Cars! We love to see it!] [The girl who sent the gift is so generous, and looking at her profile, she’s actually a real beauty.] [A genuine rich, beautiful heiress. Is our wild boy Tyler actually falling for her?] Perhaps because they had never seen Tyler in such a good mood, many of his older fans also started throwing gifts. Bouquets and hot air balloons, big and small, kept popping up on the screen. It was incredibly lively. Tyler’s smile grew wider and wider, and he was exceptionally cooperative with the interactions. The finger hearts and ‘thank yous’ never stopped. Even the host remarked in surprise: “What good thing happened to Tyler tonight? He’s in such a great mood!” I was getting even more pissed off. Normally, I drop $100 Yachts on him, yet I’ve never seen him give this kind of reaction. No matter how many I sent, he just gave a faint smile. A new viewer casually throws him a small gift, and he’s capable of giving this much emotional feedback. So what were all my Yachts for? In a fit of rage, I opened the gift menu and sent another Yacht straight to Liam, the guy from earlier. “Thank you, Yacht Queen, for sending Tyler…” Before he could finish saying “Yacht,” the host choked on his habitual thank-you speech. After seeing it clearly, he immediately corrected himself: “Oh, my apologies, I misread it. The Yacht is for Liam.” Hearing this, all the members on screen clearly froze for two seconds, all turning their heads to look at Liam in the back row. Liam looked in disbelief, stepping forward with a confused expression. And Tyler, who was originally standing center stage, looked even more shocked than Liam. 03 After staring at the monitor screen for a few seconds to confirm, Tyler reluctantly moved aside. Liam stood in the center, visibly a bit panicked. When he recovered, he bowed deeply toward the camera in gratitude. Just as he opened his mouth to say, “Thank you,” I sent him another Yacht. Liam was just about to start dancing, but seeing the new Yacht, he hurried to bow and thank me again. When he stood up, I sent another one. For a while, the screen was a continuous stream of Yachts, one after another. Liam was dumbfounded. Tyler’s face was indescribably ugly. His whole body radiated anxiety as he looked around, looking like he wanted to jump through the screen, grab me, and demand an explanation. The host excitedly announced the tips, his voice getting higher with each one. The chat was refreshing at lightning speed. [Holy shit! Yacht Queen is flexing her financial muscles again!] [Yacht Queen always delivers.] [Wait a minute, did she send it to the wrong person?] [Did she click the wrong guy?] [Sis, stop tipping! You’ve got the wrong guy!] [Yacht Queen only ever tips Tyler, why is she tipping the new guy? Is it a system glitch?] [No way, they’re forcefully promoting the new guy! Sis, hurry up and report this rigged stream to the platform!] […] Even the host, after excitedly giving thanks more than ten times, couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Did she click the wrong person…” Liam bowed in thanks over and over again, tears welling up in his eyes. Seeing that I had no intention of stopping, he anxiously tried to persuade me: “Please stop, that’s enough. It really is enough.” “Thank you so much! I will definitely keep working hard!” As soon as he finished speaking, I dropped 52 Yachts on him in one breath. I love this feeling of reciprocity. It was a million times more satisfying than tipping that fake, aloof, manipulative Tyler. I’m dropping hard cold cash, I should at least enjoy the feeling of being appreciated. Besides, with Liam standing in the center for so long, I got a really good look at him. Putting aside the sloppy makeup and styling, his facial features were truly excellent. Especially those long legs; when he danced, it was lethal. The other streamers were all wearing platform shoes, but his soles were super thin. Even so, he was still half a head taller than Tyler. No wonder he got banished to the back. Seeing so many Yachts, and not a single one for him, Tyler’s face reached the peak of ugliness. Unable to hold it in any longer, he flipped out on the spot. He shoved Liam, who was standing in the center, and walked out of the frame in visible displeasure. Even through the screen, you could hear him hastily muttering something to the host before disappearing. “There must be a glitch in the system. The Yachts she tipped me are all going to someone else. I’m going to go talk to them.” Ten seconds after Tyler left. I received a new message on my phone. KU-Tyler: [Sis, look closely before you tip. You’re clicking on the wrong person, do you know that? Fuck.] 04 The message stayed there for barely two seconds before being rapidly unsent by the other party. Oh? I thought I was blocked? How did he add himself back? I thought he had so much backbone. Just as I finished marveling, the chat box popped up with a bunch of new messages. KU-Tyler: [Sis, pay attention when you click on gifts, you’re sending them all to someone else.] [Why don’t you contact customer service for a refund?] [Whatever, it’s fine if you can’t get a refund.] [You can just tip me again, but do it slowly and make sure you click the right person!] [?] [Why aren’t you replying? Are you mad at me?] [Sorry about earlier, seeing you tip someone else made me a little jealous. I spoke a bit too hastily, please don’t overthink it.] [Sis, it’s a deal then. Come back to the stream soon, okay?] Tsk tsk. I’ve known Tyler for so long, and this is the first time he’s initiated this much conversation. Too bad it’s too late. I’m completely over him. I didn’t reply, nor did I block him. I just left him hanging, then closed the TikTok app. I had originally tuned into their group stream for market research. My company was planning to acquire their agency, KU Media, but I didn’t expect to get slightly hooked after watching a few of this C-list group’s streams. I was drawn to Tyler’s vibe after seeing him a couple of times. He perfectly fit my aesthetic. High nose bridge, smooth facial structure, and especially those inadvertently exposed, lean muscles. Tyler was a bit different from the other streamers. He was aloof, but he played the sexy card just right. He also had a bit of a proud streak. Unlike those streamers who, with just a little bit of good looks, practically had “I want to empty your wallet” written all over their faces. At first, I was just bored. Whenever I scrolled past him, I’d toss him a Yacht, and he would just give a small smile of thanks. He didn’t act like my assistant said, where in these low-tier streams, even a $10 gift would get you a personal thank you from the streamer. A couple of days later, I dropped 10 Yachts at once, and he DM’d me that night to thank me. A few days after that, I tuned into the stream just as he was about to lose a PK (a competitive streaming battle) and looked like he was going to cry. I instantly dropped 100 Yachts, winning the PK for him. That’s when he finally started interacting with me. Even after we started interacting, he remained aloof. Except for complaining about bad performance, high pressure, and hinting that I should send gifts, he rarely chatted much. I didn’t really care. Life is boring; admiring a handsome guy on the internet was a nice distraction, a mutually beneficial transaction. Anyway, it’s not like I’m short on cash. But I never expected that the easier I was to talk to, the less I asked for, the less he cared about my feelings. Last month, I was just too busy with a business trip and didn’t log on for three days, and he gave me the cold shoulder for a whole month. He acted like he was absolutely certain I would never stop liking him, throwing a tantrum at the drop of a hat. If you love someone, you might be willing to give without expecting anything in return. But I don’t love him, so why should I spend my money just to be treated poorly? If this one doesn’t know how to behave, I’ll just find another one. The next one will definitely be more obedient. 05 After staying off the app for three busy days at work. The acquisition of KU Media was finally finalized. Bored, I opened TikTok again, and my phone immediately flooded with dozens of notification pings. The most recent one was from Liam. I scrolled up through the chat history. The night after that stream ended, he stayed up writing an 800-word essay expressing his overwhelming shock and gratitude. He even proactively gave me his personal WeChat ID. Even though I didn’t reply to anything, he persisted with morning and evening greetings over the past few days. I thought about it, didn’t add his WeChat, and just politely replied with a [Thank you]. Exiting that chat, I glanced at the messages from Tyler right below. [Sis, why haven’t you come back to the stream to send gifts?] [Didn’t we have an agreement?] [Sis, come back to the stream and tip me. If you don’t, I won’t even win the championship tonight… It’s really embarrassing.] [Sis, please don’t leave me hanging at a crucial moment. I’m in the middle of a PK, hurry up!] [Reply to my message.] [?] [You’ll regret this.] That day, Tyler’s attitude seemed to get worse and worse the more he talked. I saw he was up until 4 AM. He probably stayed up all night stewing in anger. Perhaps realizing I wasn’t going to reply, he didn’t send anything for the next few days, and his tone gradually returned to a somewhat flattering one. He sent messages every day trying to test the waters. [Sis, I really was jealous yesterday, and my tone wasn’t great. Can you let it go?] [I lost again last night and had to do a punishment. You should be over your anger by now, right?] [Sis, why aren’t you here today either?] [Sis, I was wrong. Will you come see me again?] [Whether you’re here or not, I’m always here.] [I’ll always be waiting for you in the stream. /Heart] Most of the messages were sent at three or four in the morning. The absolute kicker was: He actually sent me several high-res photos of his abs. Tsk. Looks like without me as his sugar mama, he’s not so nonchalant after all. I zoomed in and took a closer look. They were alright. I didn’t even know if they were photoshopped. Thinking about it, he’s just a newbie with no real-world experience. And moving forward, they will all be artists under my company. Looking at that face that still has to earn me money, I decided not to block him for now. I didn’t reply to anything, exited the messages, and clicked into their livestream. I planned to spread the wealth tonight and give each member a tip, letting them see how generous their future boss is. As soon as I entered the stream, I realized my timing was impeccable. Tyler and Liam were just about to start a dance battle PK. 06 I hadn’t been around for a few days, and as soon as the host saw my ID, he enthusiastically greeted me. “Wow, our Yacht Queen is finally here tonight! Long time no see, sis! Welcome back!” On screen, both Tyler and Liam clearly froze. Surprise quickly washed over both their faces. It had only been three days, and the styling team had clearly put more effort into Liam this time. I guess his popularity had risen over the past couple of days after being seen by more people that night. I obligingly replied with a smiley face in the comment section. The host was getting incredibly hyped up: “Yacht Queen is now the top supporter for both our Tyler and Liam. I wonder who she’s planning to support tonight. “Oh man, this is so tough. It’s like choosing between the palm of your hand and the back of your hand…” While the host was rambling excitedly, the expressions of the two guys on stage shifted. Liam looked a bit anxious and uneasy. Tyler’s face instantly darkened, his eyes shifting erratically. Tyler glanced off-camera, then signaled the host that he needed to adjust his outfit. As soon as he stepped off-screen, two messages popped up at the top of my phone. [Sis, I knew you’d come back to see me.] [How about this: if you drop 100 Carnivals (worth about $400 each) on me tonight, I’ll immediately give you my personal WeChat.] [And I have even more risquĆ© private photos…] … Seriously, who asked for his WeChat? I couldn’t be bothered to respond. Just as I was preparing to send each person ten Yachts as a welcoming gift, a new message popped up at the top of the screen. [That fat old cow is finally back. Make sure to suppress me later to manipulate her into sending me gifts!] 07 I was shocked. My finger immediately clicked on the notification. And I swiftly took a screenshot. Within three seconds, the message was unsent by the other party. This Tyler. He really takes the money and then insults the person giving it. I was so mad I quickly checked my profile. I had been too lazy to create my own account back then, so I was logged into my grandma’s account. The male streamer she used to be a fan of got canceled and banned. In a fit of rage, she abandoned the account and quit TikTok. The avatar was a classic “blooming wealth” flower picture that older people love, and the profile was filled with videos of landscapes, flowers, and plants. Oh, I suddenly realized that among the hundreds of boring short videos, there was actually a video showing her face, dancing to a popular song with her friends. No wonder Tyler scrolled through all those videos. My grandma is indeed a bit plump, but he had no right to use a term like “fat old cow” to insult an older woman. Especially one who had tipped him so much money. Fuming with anger, I returned to the livestream. As soon as I got in, without a second thought, I dropped ten Yachts on Liam. The PK hadn’t even started, but the stream was instantly hyped up by me. Seeing this, Liam was thrilled and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He immediately expressed his gratitude: “Thank you so much! You really don’t have to spend so much. Just being here and watching is enough.” After saying that, he even made a finger heart for me. Tyler froze. After the host did his routine thank yous, I went down the line, sending ten Yachts to the other 8 members each. When I tipped Liam earlier, everyone was relatively calm, just envious and congratulatory. But when I went down the line and tipped everyone else, the members on screen and the comment section were both stunned. They were all beaming with joy, thanking me non-stop. The livestream exploded. The viewer count skyrocketed, with tens of thousands of people flooding in all at once. When it came down to just Tyler left, the host intentionally raised his voice. “Yacht Queen is really bringing the heat tonight! Surprise after surprise! Now, only Tyler is left. “I wonder how much our top supporter, who has always backed Tyler the most, will drop on him tonight? Let’s wait and see.” As soon as he finished speaking, the entire room erupted again. Tyler’s face also showed a faint glimmer of anticipation. The chat was going wild with speculation. [Our boy Tyler is her favorite, it’s gotta be at least ten Carnivals to start.] [To the person above, our top supporter never sends anything else; doesn’t everyone know she only sends Yachts?] [I bet she drops 100 Yachts on Tyler.] [I’ve been watching this stream since it started two months ago. Yacht Queen has dropped at least a few hundred grand on Tyler.] [Wow, this is the power of a rich woman!] [I hope the flop streamer I stan finds a top supporter like this too.] […] The more excited the chat and the host got, the more relaxed Tyler’s expression became. He seemed certain that I would definitely drop a massive gift to support him. Aside from Liam, who was standing to the side with a forced smile, everyone else was incredibly hyped. I suddenly felt a little bad. Not sending a single gift would seem a bit too petty. So, under the watchful eyes of thousands. I sent Tyler ten. Little Hearts. Adding up to a grand total of one dollar. 08 Tyler was dumbfounded. His face instantly flushed bright red. The chat was also dumbfounded. The screen was filled with floating *[?]*s. The host was the first to react, laughing to smooth things over. “Our top supporter must have clicked too fast and hit the wrong button. Let’s give her a little more time.” Tyler’s expression finally looked a bit better. The whole room seemed to have forgotten the upcoming dance battle. Silently waiting for me to drop the next big gift. But I was getting impatient and just typed a comment: “Aren’t they supposed to be having a dance battle? Why haven’t they started yet?” The host had sharp eyes and immediately saw my comment, quickly replying: “Don’t worry, everyone! The sister wants to see the dance first. She’s building suspense and will drop the big surprise later. “Let’s start the dance!” Hearing this, Tyler finally let out a sigh of relief. The chat also seemed to understand. [So the top supporter is building suspense.] [I knew she wouldn’t leave our Tyler hanging. She’s been his biggest supporter for so long.] [She really knows how to hype up the atmosphere.] [Looking forward to the rich lady’s epic move!] […] Tyler held his breath. He gave Liam a disdainful look and aggressively took the prominent position closer to the front of the stage. Due to screen space, Liam was squeezed slightly towards the back. Even from that angle, they still looked about the same height. Tyler unbuttoned two more buttons, perfectly exposing more of his abs. Before starting, he even winked provocatively at the camera before returning to his controlled expression, dancing energetically to the music. Both of them were good-looking, but one was the cold, domineering CEO type, and the other was the restrained, elegant type. It was quite pleasing to the eye. I remembered Liam’s 800-word essay mentioned that he was professionally trained in dance. You couldn’t really tell when they were apart, but now, side-by-side, the comparison was clear. Obviously, Liam’s movements were more fluid and dynamic than Tyler’s. After all, dancing this kind of sexy, alluring routine isn’t like swinging a sledgehammer; just using brute force doesn’t necessarily yield results. On the PK stage, both were giving it their all. Pecs and abs, things that should or shouldn’t be exposed, were “accidentally” flashed a few times. There were significantly more tips than usual, including quite a few expensive ones like Carnivals. Very quickly, Tyler took a significant lead over Liam. After all, he had been promoted as the center since day one, while Liam was new, had fewer opportunities to shine, and fewer fans. Seeing that the progress bar was over halfway done and I still hadn’t made a move, the host got a bit anxious: “Both our Tyler and Liam are going all out tonight. Thanks to our top supporter, we’re all getting a visual feast. “The sister still hasn’t made a move yet. I wonder how much she plans to tip Tyler tonight?” As soon as the host finished speaking. My 520 Yachts made a grand appearance on the screen. All of them sent to Liam. 09 The entire room went silent for a few seconds. Even through the screen, I could feel many people gasping. The host was the first to react, his voice cracking with excitement: “Five hundred and twenty! “Yachts! “Thank you to our top supporter for sending Tyler a fleet of Yachts! “Let’s congratulate Tyler on a completely crushing victory!!” Tyler had been keeping an eye on the tips while dancing. When he first saw the gifts, he went from surprised to ecstatic. Coupled with the host’s words, he was so excited he forgot his dance moves. But when he leaned in to look at the monitor screen next to him, he realized something was wrong. Such a massive display of wealth was not for him. At this moment, everyone else seemed to finally process my baller move. On the PK health bar, Liam had completely obliterated Tyler with an absolute advantage. The host quickly and stutteringly corrected himself: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I misread that earlier. “The five hundred and twenty Yachts were all sent to our Liam! “Congratulations to Liam on the win! “Thank you, top supporter!” Special effects exploded on the screen, one after another. It went on for a long time without ending. I have to say, the visual effect bought with cold, hard cash is just spectacular. The chat was refreshing so fast it was impossible to read the text; everyone was just there for the spectacle. The livestream’s popularity climbed to the top few spots on the entire platform. Amidst the grand special effects, Tyler’s expression slowly shattered. From disbelief, to serious contemplation, and finally to a furious, flushed red. If there was an anger meter above his head, I bet it would be maxed out. As the gift effects grew more intense, Tyler could barely stand still, completely losing control of his facial expressions. Equally as shell-shocked as him was Liam. He seemed completely unable to believe it, still standing frozen in place. Seeing this, the host quickly reminded him: “Liam, hurry up and thank your top supporter! What are you spacing out for?” Liam snapped out of it, tears welling up in his eyes again. “Really, thank you so much. “I never thought anyone would tip me this much.” He bowed deeply toward the screen, moved to tears, and didn’t get up for a long time. The host remarked on Liam’s good luck. Noticing Tyler’s bad mood, he quickly tried to console him: “It’s okay, it’s okay. This is just the first round; there are still two more. “Tyler, don’t just stand there, hurry up and beg your top supporter! She’s always been so good to you; beg her to send you 520 in the next round too!” “Beg my ass, fuck! “I’m done streaming.” Tyler’s face turned even blacker upon hearing this. He threw out a curse word and walked off-screen. 10 Looks like he’s having a meltdown. The chat saw it too, and random viewers started mocking him. [Are you kidding me? If you can’t handle losing, don’t play.] [It’s not like the times when you used your high popularity to suppress and bully other streamers.] [Exactly, what’s with the attitude?] [Wait, wasn’t Yacht Queen always supporting Tyler? Why is she suddenly Liam’s hardcore fan?] [Just saying, this streamer has always had a bad temper. I tipped him a small gift before, and he didn’t even acknowledge it.] [Yeah, I noticed he never gives the top supporter a good attitude. I even thought it was the company using bots to launder money. No matter how much attitude he gives, she kept tipping.] [I have to smile and provide good service when I do my delivery side hustle. If you’re in this line of work, you should have a service mindset.] [If you can do it, do it. If not, get off. We’re not spending money to watch you throw a tantrum!] […] Only a few hardcore fans tried weakly to defend him, but his black face and walking off spoke for themselves. Seeing the chat getting out of control, the host quickly tried to smooth things over. “No, no, Tyler might just not be feeling well. He went to get some water and will be right back. Everyone is misunderstanding. “Mods, kick out those accounts trying to stir up drama. We’re starting round two immediately.” The host’s words weren’t very convincing, and the comments kept flying by. Two direct messages popped up on my screen. KU Tyler: [Dumb old bitch.] KU Tyler: [Just wait. Don’t think you’re all that just because you have some dirty money!] I was incredibly shocked, so much so that I forgot to take a screenshot. Wait, he actually dared to curse at me? I angrily clicked into the chat box. Those two messages, just like the previous times, were swiftly unsent by the other party. I sent a [?] over. A red exclamation mark immediately appeared on the page. Blocked by him again. At the same time, the system popped up a notification: [You have been removed from the KU-Tyler fan group.] Great. Just great. My anger reached its boiling point. He just kicked a steel plate shaped like his future boss. Tonight, I’m going to make sure you truly understand what it means to mess with a sugar mama. I originally planned to call it a night, but since he wants to play, I won’t let this go easily. I made a phone call to my assistant. Ordering the CEO of KU to ensure this Tyler gets back on the livestream immediately. I had reviewed his management contract. To get more resources to make himself famous, he hadn’t hesitated to sign an unequal treaty with the company. A ten-year contract. Astronomical breach of contract fee. So no matter how reluctant he is, as long as I don’t let him go, he has to obediently make money for me from now on. Hanging up the phone, I returned to the livestream. Besides Tyler’s absence, everyone else had returned to the normal state of a group stream. When the host saw me return, he greeted me again. Noticeably more sincere than before. I didn’t say anything, just quietly watched the time. In less than five minutes, Tyler indeed returned with a dark face. But this time, he went back to his position on stage. Another glamorous avatar also entered the livestream. Tyler’s number two supporter.

    🌟 Continue the story here šŸ‘‰šŸ» šŸ“² Download the “MotoNovel” app šŸ” search for “407058”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The Orphan He Never Loved

    I was an orphan saved by Ethan Reed. He cherished me, adored me, made me the most envied girl in the city—yet he never married me. That day, I overheard him talking to his best friend about me. His tone was indifferent. “She’s just an orphan with no status. How could I possibly marry her?” At his grand wedding to a high-society woman, my uncle arranged for me to marry far away. I got into the car leaving town. That day, he abandoned everything and chased after me, just to tell me—he regretted it. “Clara, I promise you. I’ll marry him.” When I calmly made this decision, Clara froze. She gripped my hand tightly. “Sophia, are you sure about this?” I nodded gently. “It’s what I want. I’m not planning to marry Ethan Reed anymore.” I understood why Clara was shocked. I’d been frail and sickly since childhood. William and Clara took pity on me and kept me by their side, never pressuring me about marriage. But now I was almost twenty-five. In this city, if I couldn’t marry my childhood sweetheart Ethan Reed, everyone would see me as a spinster who’d aimed too high and ended up with nothing. But after how he treated me publicly, not only would no one in the entire city dare marry me—I’d become a laughingstock behind closed doors. Leaving this city was the only dignified way out. I lowered my head, accidentally cutting my finger on a piece of fruit. Blood dripped onto the floor, a dull ache spreading. Clara sighed. “If Ethan Reed isn’t the right man, then we won’t marry him.” My thoughts drifted. Was Ethan Reed really not the right man? No. He just wasn’t the right man for me. That year, my father and brother died on duty. My mother followed them in grief. William and Clara took me in. They never touched my family’s death benefits or inheritance—they only hoped to find me a good future. One day, I went out alone to choose a birthday gift for Clara. A criminal dragged me into a dead-end alley. At that critical moment, Ethan Reed happened to be on leave from the military. He drove past the alley entrance and rescued me from the criminal just in time, subduing him. “Miss, are you okay?” I’ll never forget that day. The young man reached out his hand to my terrified self, a smile slowly spreading across his eyes. Ethan Reed fixed my disheveled hair and personally took me home. “Sophia, from now on, I’ll be by your side. No one will dare bully you again.” He pitied me for losing both parents and being sickly. From that day on, he often stayed by my side, bringing me all kinds of novel gifts, making me happy. On my fourteenth birthday, he personally gave me a necklace he designed himself. The pendant was engraved with both our names. The seeds of young love quietly sprouted day by day. I even took it for granted that Ethan Reed was my destined person. I once tentatively asked him what would happen if I couldn’t find the right person when I came of age. He answered without hesitation. “So what? I’ll just marry you then.” I believed him. I kept those words in my heart. Under Ethan Reed’s protection, he pampered me into the most enviable girl in the city. After I came of age, I had plenty of suitors, but William politely declined them all. At a family banquet, William turned away those who came asking about me. “My Sophia is still young and doesn’t understand anything. Please forgive us.” Ethan Reed, usually casual and easygoing, laughed heartily. “Not at all. Didn’t Sophia just make that kind of joke in front of me the other day?” The whole table fell silent. I gripped my fork tightly, my face burning. That time when we were alone together, I’d blurted out something flirtatious without thinking. That kind of private joke was now being aired publicly at the dinner table. A girl from a scholarly family leaving such a frivolous impression—everyone assumed Ethan Reed would definitely marry me. Gradually no one came asking anymore. Even William almost tacitly approved of this marriage, allowing him in and out of the house like family. I kept waiting. The first year, he was new to the military. He promised to propose to my parents once he achieved something. The second year, he became an officer. He promised to give me the best of everything once he was stable. The third year, he received his military rank. He said when he returned, he’d marry me as his only wife. By the sixth year, that young man who once fixed my hair had grown into a valiant, distinguished soldier. He was stationed at the border year-round on missions. Each time he returned, he’d come see me first. But after returning from the border that time, there was no word from him for ages. I waited joyfully for him to fulfill his promise, but he never came. Until Isabella Sullivan appeared. On a bridge by the lake on a drizzly day, I witnessed Ethan Reed personally fastening a pendant to her bag. The next moment, he took the woman’s hand of his own accord.

    My mind went hot. I rushed forward without thinking. “What are you doing?” I angrily snatched the object from his hand. The pendant fell to the ground. In an instant, it shattered to pieces. Isabella Sullivan looked shocked, staring at the fragments on the ground with heartache. “Sophia, I know you’re upset. I wouldn’t have minded if you wanted this pendant for yourself, but why did you have to smash it?” On the crowded bridge, many people stopped to watch. Ethan Reed’s face instantly stiffened. “Ethan Reed, you said you’d marry me.” My voice trembled, gradually taking on a tearful tone. “That you’d only be good to me.” But Ethan Reed looked at me with unfamiliar eyes, frowning. “What man would dare want a woman as tactless as you!” I stood frozen, watching helplessly as he left with Isabella Sullivan in his arms. The crowd murmured among themselves. “Didn’t Ethan Reed say he’d marry Sophia? How can he humiliate her publicly like this?” “What else? Ethan Reed has a bright future. Sophia was obviously the one throwing herself at him this whole time.” “Tsk tsk, but Sophia’s nearly an old maid now. If Ethan Reed doesn’t want her, probably only divorced men would marry her.” In that moment, my whole body trembled. The buzzing murmurs around me felt like sharp knives stabbing into my heart, one after another. I ran home crying. I fell while running and scraped my arm. That Ethan Reed who once said he’d always protect me had become the very person who hurt me. When my best friend found me at the alley entrance that day, she said I looked completely lost, unsteady on my feet, and it terrified her. She cried tears of heartache. “Ethan Reed used to care about you so much… how did it come to this?” But I was like a walking corpse then—where would my soul be? I had a high fever and fell seriously ill. When I woke up, the first thing I did was ask through blurred, teary eyes: “Did he come?” While I was unconscious, Ethan Reed had come once but was turned away at the door. He only said he’d wronged me and would come apologize properly once I recovered. My best friend hesitated a long time before telling me. It turned out he’d already sought his superior’s approval and would soon marry the daughter of a high-ranking official—Isabella Sullivan. They’d known each other since university. Even their professors praised their relationship. Word had spread throughout the social circle. No one envied me anymore. Everyone praised what a perfect match they were. As for me, there was only pity or mockery—just a pathetic fool who’d loved in vain. During that time, one of William’s old friends from out of town came to visit and heard about my situation. That friend was well-off. His son Ryan Ford was young and accomplished, having taken over the family business with considerable assets in this area. William told me privately that Ryan Ford had seen my photo and felt we’d get along well. If I didn’t mind, we could get to know each other. If we got along, we could date. If not, no pressure. William sighed. “Sophia, if you’re unwilling, next month you’ll probably have to marry just anyone. I’m afraid you’ll end up with the wrong person.” I clenched my hands slightly. I’d thought about leaving this city, but going to a strange place alone to start over—I didn’t know if I could even stand on my own feet. Besides, William’s family had sheltered me as I grew up. I couldn’t let them keep worrying about me. “I’ll follow William’s decision.” And so, with the arrangement of both families, Ryan Ford made a special trip from out of town to meet me. We met a few times. He didn’t talk much, but he was sincere and dependable in his actions. He said there was no rush—to take my time considering. I didn’t need long to agree. Not because I particularly liked him, but because I was tired. I didn’t want to wait anymore. On the day I was leaving, I looked at the roomful of jewelry, clothes, and ornate wedding garments, yet felt nothing. I’d imagined countless times what I’d look like in a wedding dress, marrying Ethan Reed. Only now did I understand it had all been a foolish dream. Leaving here, perhaps this heartbreak would finally end.

    On this day, Ethan Reed brought Isabella Sullivan to apologize in person, bringing many expensive gifts. William coldly refused and had someone throw those gifts out. “Ethan Reed, are you bullying Sophia because she’s alone in the world? Or do you think there’s no one behind her?” Ethan Reed lowered his head. “I apologize.” Then, in front of everyone, he said to me directly: “Sophia, we’ve been childhood friends for years. When we were young and naive, we mistakenly thought we could promise each other forever. Now I understand it was just sibling affection.” “From now on, I’ll still treat you as a sister. Let’s end those childhood promises here.” I stopped William, who was about to lose his temper. I walked step by step to Ethan Reed, without the tears everyone expected. Instead, I took a glass of wine for myself and handed him one. It was fruit wine we’d brewed together before. That time he said we’d drink it together when he returned. I never thought I’d wait years. “Ethan Reed, after we drink this wine, our promise is canceled. Our childhood friendship ends here too. I wish you success in all things and happiness.” His expression was complex. He took the wine glass and drained it, saying quietly: “Thank you. I hope Sophia also finds the right person soon and a better future.” Perhaps he was thanking me for not clinging to him, thanking me for letting him go. Back in my room, my best friend couldn’t help but tear up. “Sophia, how can you accept Ethan Reed’s change of heart so easily? You loved him so much…” Because I’d been obsessed too, had fantasies too. In the end, I knew his heart had changed. Since I knew the outcome, better to let go with pain and keep what dignity remained. “I’m the one who doesn’t want him anymore.” I looked toward the falling yellow leaves outside the window, my vision gradually blurring. At the banquet, William sighed deeply. “No matter what, I watched you and Sophia grow up together. This is the last drink. Once you’re married, don’t keep in contact anymore.” “Thank you, William, for understanding.” Ethan Reed brought me a food box. He wanted to open it himself, but after hesitating, he stopped. Isabella Sullivan beside him took it over. “I remember you loves cake. I had Isabella Sullivan make some specially for you.” He used to know I loved all kinds of pastries. He’d always find different shops and bring them to me like treasures. I never told him that eating too many gave me toothaches. I’d secretly endure it, carefully storing those sweet-as-honey pastries in a box. With that storage, I’d hidden away the only sweetness of half my life. Isabella Sullivan picked up a piece and held it to me, her smile meaningful. “Sophia ate pastries from Ethan Reed for so many years. You won’t be able to anymore, so you should get used to new flavors. Try my cooking.” I couldn’t refuse. I politely took it and bit down. But the filling was unbearably sour and bitter, hard to swallow. I knew she was making a point. “Is it good?” Isabella Sullivan asked with a smile. I forced down the sourness in my throat and shook my head gently. “Sweets hurt the stomach. I was ignorant and greedy as a child. I stopped liking them long ago.”

    Hearing me say this, Isabella Sullivan affectionately took my hand. “Sophia’s reached marriageable age. When there’s time, I’ll take you to parties to look around. Pick any excellent young man you like, so you won’t be so narrow-minded, fixating on just one person.” Ethan Reed only glanced at me indifferently. “No rush. Sophia deserves better. Take your time choosing.” After several rounds of drinks, I sat restlessly and quietly left the table. The last pool of lotus flowers in the back garden had withered. Autumn rain on faded lotuses looked especially desolate and beautiful. In the past, every autumn, the dead leaves would all be pulled out. Once when Ethan Reed came, he stopped this, smiling and saying to me: “Why pull them all out so cleanly?” I remembered every word he said. From then on, the lotus flowers in my pool bloomed every year and faded in autumn. I never let anyone remove them. This time, my best friend asked me, “Sophia, should we keep these dead leaves?” I shook my head. “No need to keep them anymore.” After all, the person who listened to the rain and admired the lotuses with me was already gone. As I stared lost in thought, Isabella Sullivan had quietly walked up behind me. “Is Sophia using the scenery to express her feelings and ease her grievances?” “But I must remind you—Ethan doesn’t love you at all.” “In this world, only feelings cannot be forced.” I looked at her smugness and shook my head gently. “I have no intention of competing with you. Ethan Reed and I have nothing to do with each other anymore.” Isabella Sullivan’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Really? But only by making him detest you will you truly be free.” She suddenly leaned close to my ear and whispered: “That day you broke my love token. Today I’ll show you the price you have to pay.” Isabella Sullivan grabbed my wrist and used my strength to push hard. The pool water in early autumn carried threads of cold air. Isabella Sullivan fell in with a splash. I stood there at a loss. At that moment, Ethan Reed happened to come out from the front hall and saw this scene. He jumped in without hesitation, desperately pulling Isabella Sullivan out. He lifted his dripping face, furious. “Sophia, haven’t you made enough of a scene?” “Even if I weren’t marrying Isabella, I could never marry you. Stop having foolish fantasies!” As clever as he was, how could he not distinguish Isabella Sullivan’s clumsy trick? But no matter how I tried to explain, he only believed what he wanted to believe. My best friend’s voice changed pitch in her anxiety: “Isabella Sullivan was the one who went crazy and jumped in the water herself! Why are you blaming our Sophia?” Ethan Reed only said coldly: “You’re her best friend. Of course you’d speak for her.” He ordered someone to call a doctor. When he lowered his head and pressed his forehead tightly against Isabella Sullivan’s, everything went quiet. The thread I’d held onto for so long quietly snapped. I thought when I saw all this with my own eyes, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. In reality, it wasn’t up to me at all. The pain was still sharp. When everyone rushed anxiously to check on Isabella Sullivan, I gripped my best friend’s hand. “Sophia, how can they all not believe you?” “It doesn’t matter anymore. Did you pack up all my things?” My best friend nodded vigorously. I took all the things Ethan Reed had given me, sprinkled them with powder, and personally burned them in the back garden. In the flickering firelight, I watched the flames devour the paper kites and paintings, smiling with relief. Ethan Reed, I don’t have to love you anymore. By coincidence, Ethan Reed and Isabella Sullivan’s wedding was also set for the third of next month. The entire city was lively with celebration. On their wedding day, I got into Ryan Ford’s car that came to pick me up and quietly left the city. I looked at the streets behind me, red silk everywhere, and rolled down the window.

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  • A Taste of Bitter Chocolate

    I’ve always had issue with low blood sugar. Because of that, my childhood best friend, Ethan, always kept an emergency stash of chocolate in his backpack just for me. Today, right after crushing the 800-meter track event, I was feeling faint. I naturally reached into his bag for a bar. Suddenly, Serena, the delicate new transfer student, burst into tears. She looked at me, trembling, and asked, “Why would you steal the birthday gift Ethan gave me? I know it was just chocolate, but it was my gift…” Ethan panicked immediately. He rushed to her side, cooing that he’d buy her a new one, a better one. I was left standing there, completely stunned, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Later, I was representing the school at a regional meet. The moment I crossed the finish line in first place, Ethan and my new desk-mate, Leo, both stepped forward. They both held out a chocolate bar at the same time. Without a second thought, I silently took the bar from Leo. Ethan’s hand froze in mid-air. He looked at me, lost and hurt. “Harper, why won’t you take my chocolate anymore?” 01 We were the center of attention. I stood there, gripping the hal-eaten chocolate bar, my palm slick with sweat. The heat was melting the chocolate, smearing it all over my hand. Serena was still crying. “Harper, I know you don’t like me being friends with Ethan, but I just got here. He’s my only friend.” She sniffed dramatically. “I just… I just wanted to feel what it was like for someone to have me in their thoughts…” The whispers started immediately, swirling around me from every direction in the homeroom. “No way! Is Harper really that petty? Stealing someone’s birthday gift?” “Tsk, she’s not ‘someone,’ she’s the childhood friend. Looks like she’s jealous that her guy is giving attention to the new girl.” “That’s so desperate. Just because she’s on an athletic scholarship doesn’t mean she owns him.” “Serena is so heartbroken. I want to give her my allowance to buy her a better gift.” … I froze. I wanted to explain. But it felt like something was blocking my throat. I couldn’t get the words out. I wanted to say that I didn’t know it was her birthday. I didn’t mean to steal anything. I wanted to say that Ethan was the one who told me that whenever my sugar crashed, his backpack was a safe haven for chocolate. That’s the only reason I took it. I was dizzy, exhausted from running my best time. I just needed to not faint. I had no idea that specific bar, wrapped up with a tiny bow, was a gift for her. Ethan, having heard the commotion, rushed back from the teacher’s lounge. When I saw him, relief washed over me. My eyes stung. He was finally here. He would explain everything for me. Or so I thought. Ethan didn’t even glance at me. He ran straight to Serena, leaning over, desperately trying to calm her down. “Don’t cry, Serena. I’ll get you another gift. A better one.” Looking at Serena’s pristine, tear-streaked face, Ethan finally remembered I existed. He turned to me, his expression full of accusation. “Harper, apologize to Serena. That was her gift.” The room practically exploded with ‘I told you so’ looks. “Wow, confirmed. Harper really did take the new girl’s gift.” “Taking something without asking is just stealing, period.” Countless subtle, disdainful looks were aimed at me. It was blindingly sunny outside, but I was shivering violently inside. The humiliation and shame almost swallowed me whole. Finally, I took a deep breath. I forced the tears back, Refusing to let them fall. I turned to Serena, stiffened my spine, and gave a forced, robotic apology. “I’m sorry.” 02 Before the bell rang for class to start. Ethan pulled Serena back to our section of the room. That’s when I realized my desk had been moved. Ethan and I used to sit next to each other. Now, Serena was in my spot. I looked around, lost, searching for my desk. “Your seat is over there,” Ethan said flatly. I followed his finger to the very back corner, by the rear door. It was isolated. No desk-mate. My textbooks were in a disorganized mess on the dusty surface. “You’ve been away at the training camp for weeks,” Ethan explained, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. “Serena can’t see the board from the back, so she swapped with you. It’s not like you’re in class often anyway.” I listened to his distant voice, numb. I walked to the back row, moving like a ghost. Behind me, I heard Serena whisper, “Won’t she be mad about this? Maybe I should just give it back…” “Forget it. She made you cry. Consider this her way of making it up to you.” “Ethan, you’re too good to me.” Her voice was sweet and delicate. The kind of voice that made people want to protect her. Suddenly, I understood why Ethan looked at her with such tenderness. Who could say anything harsh to a girl like that? I lowered my head, the tears finally breaking free. Everything inside me was aching, twisted and bitter. How did this happen? I was only gone for two weeks. Before I left, Ethan was different. If anyone had even touched my desk while I was away, he would have snapped: “Back off. What if you mess up Harps’ stuff? Don’t worry, Harper, you focus on training. As long as I’m here, no one is moving your desk.” When did that change? Oh, right. It started when Serena Williams (not that one, just a common name) transferred in this semester. She was beautiful, smart, and always smiled softly at us. “I’m so jealous of how close your friendship is,” she would say wistfully. After that, Ethan started inviting her to lunch with us every single day. Back then, I was oblivious. I thought I was just making a new friend. I ignored how the frequency of Ethan’s replies to my texts during camp dwindled to almost nothing. I ignored his “joking” comparisons: “You should learn a thing or two from Serena. Be a little less… aggressive.” The homeroom teacher walked in. Following behind her was a new face. He was undeniably good-looking. But cold. He looked like the world owed him money. The teacher cleared her throat. “Class, this is Leo Carter. He’s in the advanced art program, but he’ll be taking core classes with us from now on.” The teacher scanned the room, landing on the empty spot next to me. “Leo, you can take that empty seat next to Harper. Since you’re both specialty students—art and athletics—you might find you have some common ground.” 03 Hearing my name, I frantically wiped away the tears. But I forgot about the melted chocolate still on my hands. In an instant, I smeared dark brown chocolate across my face. I looked ridiculous. Everyone turned to look, and the room burst into laughter. Ethan wasn’t laughing. Instead, I saw a flicker of something like disgust in his eyes. I lowered my head, my face burning crimson. Suddenly, a backpack slammed onto the desk next to me, followed by a full pack of wet wipes. I looked up to see Leo settling into the seat beside me. He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. “If you don’t wipe that off now, it’s going to dry.” I clumsily grabbed a wipe and scrubbed my face. “Thanks,” I whispered, barely audible. The teacher had stepped out for a moment. Immediately, the gossiping cliques started buzzing. “Another specialist student. This is the honor track; I don’t know how they just let anyone in.” “Exactly. When they can’t keep up, they’ll regress. If Ethan hadn’t helped Harper, she would have washed out ages ago.” “Well, Serena is his partner now. Looks like Harper and the new guy can be miserable together in the back.” They weren’t even trying to be quiet. Leo and I could hear every word. I gripped my pen until my knuckles turned white. I fought the tears, but the injustice of it all stung. Leo seemed like he hadn’t heard a thing. He was calmly sketching something in his notebook. Didn’t he feel any insecurity? Any shame? Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned over to see what he was drawing. I looked, and forgot to cry. It was incredible. 04 Even though I had tutors during training camp, I had missed a lot. The next period was advanced placement math, and I was lost. I stared at the problem set, panicking. I didn’t even notice when the bell rang for the end of class. I had tried three different methods, and none of them worked. I didn’t realize Ethan had walked back to my corner. He rapped his knuckles against my forehead. “Still stuck? It’s a basic Cauchy inequality application, Harper. If you don’t get it, you should ask. Sitting here stewing on it until tomorrow morning isn’t going to make the answer appear.” That was how Ethan always treated me when I couldn’t solve a problem. Rough but present. He said it was to help me remember. But after everything that happened today, that familiar gesture felt different. It was the breaking point. The hot sting of humiliation rushed back. Tears splashed onto my worksheet. Ethan paused, his voice softening slightly. “What are you crying for? I’m not going to leave you hanging.” He started to pull a chair over to show me how to solve it. Suddenly, Serena spun around in her seat up front, smiling brightly. “Ethan! I just found two different ways to solve this problem! Can you look at my logic and see if it holds up?” He seemed mesmerized by her smile. He abandoned the chair instantly. “Calculate it yourself first,” he snapped at me before sprinting back to Serena. I stared at Serena’s smile from a distance. It felt blinding, smug, like a trophy she was flaunting. A wave of stubbornness washed over me. I had to solve this problem. But when I reached the final step, I was stuck again. Leo had stopped sketching. He pointed at my chicken-scratch scratch paper. “Using that inequality on this specific problem makes the calculation too complex. It’s easy to make a mistake. There’s a simpler formula for this type of problem.” He quickly jotted down a string of variables. I stared for a moment, and then it clicked. I grabbed my pen and reworked the problem. Everything flowed smoothly. I got the answer. I was ecstatic. I turned to thank him. But he was already sketching again. Okay. Looks like my new desk-mate is a closet genius. 05 When school ended, I hesitated. Should I walk with Ethan? We live next door to each other. Our parents are best friends. If we don’t go home together, our parents will worry, and I didn’t want to explain why. But by the time I came back from the restroom, Ethan was gone. There was a note on his empty desk. Go home yourself today. I have something to do. I shouldered my backpack. As I walked, I tried to focus on my digital flashcards, memorizing vocab. Passing by the downtown shopping center, I saw Ethan’s reflection in a window. Serena was with him. They were in a high-end candy store. I stopped, watching. Ethan’s voice, usually blunt with me, was incredibly gentle. “Do you like this kind? It’s imported Belgian chocolate. It’s supposed to be the best.” “I love it. If you’re giving it to me, I’ll love anything.” Serena’s face was slightly flushed. Ethan smiled. “This one it is, then.” After a pause, he asked, a bit confused, “Why did you want chocolate for your birthday, anyway?” Serena’s eyes immediately welled up. She bit her lip. “I… It’s because I have low blood sugar. I’ve fainted a few times. I asked my mom to buy me some chocolate to keep in my bag, but she told me not to be so dramatic.” Ethan was stunned. It took him a moment to process. “It’s okay. From now on, I’ll have some for you.” Serena looked at him, then asked tentatively, “I heard… that you used to do that for Harper, too?” Ethan ran a hand through his hair, looking awkward. “That was then. She’s an athlete now, sturdy. She doesn’t need to be babied like that.” I gripped my backpack strap so hard my knuckles turned white. My whole body went cold. So that’s what he really thought of me. I looked at my own reflection in the window. I wasn’t slim. At 135 pounds, next to Serena’s 95, I felt massive. I felt like a linebacker. But I wasn’t always like this. My coach had told me I was too thin, and my low blood sugar was impacting my potential. I had to gain muscle. When I told Ethan back then, he agreed. He piled food on my plate. “I told you you needed to eat more. You passed out on the track last time, remember? From now on, you get my extra dessert.” Why was it ‘babying’ now? Why was I ‘sturdy’ now? I wiped away my tears and lower my head, running home. I never wanted Ethan’s chocolate again. And I didn’t want his help, either. 06 When I got home. My mom had a full dinner waiting. She said I was burning too many calories between training and studying, and I needed to replenish. But looking at the beautiful food, I had no appetite. “Mom,” I mumbled, “don’t make me late-night snacks anymore. I don’t want them.” Before she could respond, I bolted up the stairs to my room. I buried my face in my pillow and cried, silently this time. I must have cried myself to sleep. That night, I dreamed of when we were kids, right after Ethan moved in. Back then, I was half a head taller than him. He was a crybaby. A little push, and he’d fall over. Yet, he always wanted to play with me. I really didn’t like having a shadow who was such a wimp. But one day, some older kids from the neighborhood were bullying him. Hearing him cry, my heart just softened. I rushed in and stood in front of him. “Stop crying! I’ll protect you from now on!” I declared, puffing out my chest. He had tear-filled eyes that made them sparkle like glass. “Harper, I like you. I’ll protect you, too, when I grow up.” I was so embarrassed I felt my face burn. Slowly, the little wimp grew into a tall, lean guy. He was the one I had to look up to. He was the one who stood in front of me. In middle school, my body started to change. In the summer, the white school t-shirts were a bit thin, and some obnoxious boys were staring and making jokes. Ethan found out. His face went dark, and he tracked them down, his fist ensuring they’d never open their mouths again. “Harper, don’t listen to them. From now on, if anyone comments on your body, I’m putting them in the hospital.” I smiled in the dream, reaching out to touch him. But in the next second. The boy in my memory vanished. I woke up, crying. It was just a dream. “Harper, get up! Ethan is here, he’s waiting for you!” my mom yelled from downstairs. I froze, then scrambled to get ready. I saw Ethan leaning lazily against the doorframe, holding a carton of chocolate milk. When he saw me. He shoved the milk into my hand. “What’s wrong with you? You look pathetic. Were you scared to walk home alone last night?” I shoved the milk back into his hand and walked right past him. “No, thanks. I ate breakfast. And you don’t need to bring me anything anymore.” Ethan stared at the milk in his hand, dumbfounded. It took him a second to recover, yelling at my retreating back, “You just woke up, when could you have eaten?” He caught up and grabbed my backpack strap, his face darkening. “What is your problem this morning? Giving me attitude? I told you, I had something I had to do last night, that’s why I couldn’t walk you.” I yanked my strap out of his hand. “Got it. We’re going to be late.” I put in my earbuds and turned on an English podcast. Blocking him out completely. 07 I stood through the entire morning lecture, trying to focus on my notes. But my stomach was cramping, and my head felt light. I leaned over my desk, gripping my forehead. I should have just eaten breakfast. Pride is fine, but starvation is stupid. A brown paper bag and a few white rabbit candies suddenly appeared on my desk. I turned my head, confused. It was Leo. He glanced at my pale face. “You have low blood sugar. You have to eat.” I hesitated, but my stomach made a convincing argument. I took the bag. “Thanks. We just met yesterday, and I keep leaning on you.” Leo looked at me with a lazy, half-smile. “It’s not for free. The time for your payback is coming soon.” “Huh?” I looked up from the sandwich, confused. He leaned his forehead against his fist, twirling a sketch pencil in his other hand. “Payback… as in, you’re going to be my model. Okay?” I almost choked on the sandwich. I swallowed quickly, feeling flustered. “Me? Are you… sure? Don’t you think I’m too sturdy? Like a linebacker? Won’t that look bad in a drawing?” I looked at him, terrified of his reaction. I was dreading seeing the same look of disgust I saw in Ethan’s eyes. Leo put down his pencil and sat up, looking at me. Like he was looking at his muse. “Your physique has power. It’s a healthy kind of beauty. It’s beautiful.” His voice was serious, and his eyes held a sincere appreciation I had never seen before. A strange warmth, both sweet and sharp, spread through me. “Give me ten minutes.” Leo picked up his pencil and began sketching furiously. I sat perfectly still, terrified to move. My mind was filled with the image of Leo’s sincere, appreciating gaze. Ten minutes passed in a blur. Leo held the sketch out to me. I had no idea I could look like that. The corners of my eyes stung. I felt like I might cry. Then I noticed a tiny line of text in the bottom right corner of the paper: [Beauty comes in many forms, and you are unique.]

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  • The Heartthrob System’s Perfect Victim

    My husband’s mistress bonded with a Heartthrob System. It attracted countless powerful men to fall for her. Just because she said she liked kids, my husband made the child I had through three years of IVF call her “Mom.” I broke down and rushed over to demand an explanation. Only to have my brother slap me hard across the face. “She rarely likes anything. Why are you fighting her for this?” “It’s just a kid. You can have another one.” Fiona basked proudly in everyone’s adoration. She leaned close to my ear with a soft laugh. “I have the Heartthrob System. What do you have to compete with me?” In my despair, I awakened the system that had been dormant in my body for years. “You claim to be the main system, right? Can you handle her system?” After a long silence, a scornful laugh echoed in my mind. “Heartthrob System? Nothing but a failed, defective product.” I actually detected a hint of disdain in the system’s cold mechanical voice. It seemed to particularly look down on this so-called Heartthrob System. 怐It’s just a defective product that was manufactured. It has many inherent safety hazards.怑 怐There’s no need to deal with it. After the host uses it a few more times, the side effects will emerge.怑 Hearing the system’s words, I instinctively looked toward Fiona. At this moment, she was nestled in my husband’s arms, playing with my son. The three of them looked so harmonious together, like a real family. My hands clenched at my sides, nails digging deep into my palms until a sharp pain brought me back to my senses. When I looked up, I saw my husband and the others glaring at me with rage. The child in Fiona’s arms was reaching toward me, crying hysterically. His little face turned purple as if he might pass out the next second. My heart clenched painfully. I reached out to grab the child, but Liam Mitchell shoved me away hard. “Sarah, can you stop being such an eyesore?” “As long as you keep hanging around, how is the baby supposed to accept Fiona as his mom?” The child’s heart-wrenching cries filled my ears. My heart twisted with anxiety as I shouted angrily: “This is MY child! I’m still alive and well, and you’re making him call someone else Mom? You bunch of bastards…” Before I could finish, a slap came flying at me. I clutched my reddened, swollen face and looked at my brother in disbelief. This person who had cherished me since childhood, who had always shielded me from danger, was now glaring at me with fury. He still held his hand extended from the slap. When our eyes met—mine full of hurt—a flicker of confusion crossed his face. But the next second, he returned to that disgusted expression. “Fiona’s health is fragile. How could she endure the pain of childbirth?” “You can have kids anyway. Just give this child to Fiona and have another one.” The words came out of his mouth so lightly, yet they weighed a thousand pounds. A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I said in a trembling voice: “Why should my child call her Mom?” The next second, Fiona tugged at my brother’s sleeve with fake concern, looking pitiful. “If Sarah doesn’t want to, then forget it. I really liked this child though. What a shame…” She made a show of wiping away nonexistent tears from her eyes. She shrank into Liam’s arms looking wronged. I was about to mock her terrible acting when Liam suddenly kicked me hard in the abdomen. Instant pain shot through my belly. My face went deathly pale. When my back slammed into the wall, I couldn’t suppress the cry of pain that escaped my throat. “Stop wasting words on her. I have a share in this kid too.” “I’ve given Fiona so many expensive jewels and she didn’t like any of them. It’s rare for her to be interested in something—just give it to her.” With that, he strode toward me, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me toward the basement. “As long as she’s not hanging around the baby all the time, it won’t take more than a couple days before he stops recognizing her as his mother.” The basement was dark and damp, full of scurrying rats and bugs. Liam released my hand in disgust and threw me to the floor. “Stay here obediently. When the baby finally forgets about you, then you can appear in front of him again.”

    Watching the basement door close in front of me, I broke down and pounded on it, shouting until my voice went hoarse. But no one came down. I don’t know how much time passed before someone kicked the basement door hard from outside. “Shut up already! Miss Fiona has a terrible headache right now. If you make another sound and disturb her rest, you’ll regret it.” The basement’s confined environment already made it hard to breathe. The loud noise startled me. The servants’ low voices drifted from the doorway, their words full of contempt. “I really don’t know what the boss sees in her. She’s not as beautiful as Miss Fiona, and her personality isn’t as likable either.” “If Miss Fiona were our mistress, who knows how wonderful this household would be.” “Such a shame. I really like Miss Fiona.” I numbly withdrew my blood-stained hands, my heart filled with bitterness. This Heartthrob System’s effects were truly astonishing—even the servants had fallen for her. Countless bugs crawled around my feet, and many started climbing up my body. My consciousness gradually faded. Just as I was about to slip into unconsciousness, the basement door suddenly pushed open from outside. Liam’s panicked voice sounded in my ears. “Sarah! She’s burning up. Get her upstairs first.” When I woke up again, I’d been settled in bed. Liam sat by the bedside with a complicated expression. Seeing me awake, he sighed deeply. Perhaps because Fiona wasn’t here, he could temporarily break free from the Heartthrob System’s restrictions and regain some clarity. Seeing this, I quickly seized the opportunity and pleaded. “The baby just finished nursing. He’s never been away from me. I’m begging you—please give him back to me.” His gaze fell on my red, swollen palms, and emotion flickered in his eyes. Just as he was about to speak, a female voice from the doorway interrupted. “Liam, look at our son! He’s so attached to me!” The child in her arms clutched her hand tightly, grinning and giggling. My heart ached at the sight. I hadn’t expected even my son to be deceived by this system. The moment Liam saw her again, it was like he’d become a different person. His face full of adoration as he gathered them both into his arms affectionately. “This little guy is usually so mischievous, but he’s so well-behaved with you. Clearly, you two are meant to be.” Then Fiona seemed to just notice me. Her eyes shifted as she smiled and said: “Oh, Sarah’s been let out?” “Perfect timing. This child smells terrible—I think he soiled himself. Hurry up and clean him.” Hearing this, I immediately panicked and snatched the child from her arms. When I felt the bulging diaper between his legs, I was instantly furious. “The baby soiled himself and you didn’t change his diaper? Leaving him like this will give him a rash!” Fiona rolled her eyes dramatically and covered her nose in disgust. “So dirty. You expect me to change it? Wouldn’t want to dirty my hands.” Then she turned to Liam, acting coy. “This child is too filthy. He got dirt all over me. I don’t want to change him.” As her words fell, confusion flashed in Liam’s eyes. The next second he glared at me furiously. “Fiona’s hands aren’t meant for changing your son’s diapers. Your own son—you don’t care for him and expect others to? What kind of mother are you?” I ignored him. My gaze locked on Fiona’s face. Several small, barely noticeable pimples had appeared on her previously flawless face. At first glance, they seriously affected her appearance. I understood immediately—this must be the side effects the system mentioned. Each time she used the Heartthrob System, it damaged her looks. I just wondered what her face would look like in the end.

    The moment my son came into my arms, he cried inconsolably. His eyes desperately seeking Fiona, reaching toward her with whimpers, wanting her to hold him. I swallowed the bitterness in my heart, repeatedly reassuring myself that this was just the system’s deceptive effect. He was the child I carried for ten months. How could he not be close to me? But when I saw the red rash on my son’s bottom from being left in a soiled diaper, my anger flared. “How many days has it been since you changed his diaper? Two more days and his skin would’ve been raw!” Fiona rolled her eyes impatiently, grabbed Liam’s hand, and turned to leave. “Liam, I want to get my nails done. This time I’m thinking of having gold embedded in them.” Watching their retreating figures, I wiped the tears from my eyes and hurried to take the baby to the hospital. When the doctor saw the rash on his body, he scolded me thoroughly. “What kind of mother are you? How did you let a perfectly good child end up like this? Are you deliberately abusing him?” I couldn’t defend myself and could only silently endure the doctor’s reprimands. After my son’s wounds were treated and bandaged, my brother suddenly called. “Fiona and Liam are at a hotel. She said the condom broke and needs you to bring another box.” “I’m busy with work and can’t get away. You go deliver it. You know Liam’s size, I’m sure.” I froze, never expecting he could say something like this. “Ethan Williams, are you insane? Don’t you like Fiona? You’re actually okay with watching her with another man? And that man is my husband—your brother-in-law!” Facing my heartbroken screams, he was silent for a moment before speaking with bitterness in his voice. “What choice do I have? Fiona likes Liam. All I can do is try my best to protect her safety.” “She doesn’t want children, so we need to be careful with protection. Hurry up and bring them a box.” My grip tightened on the phone. I laughed coldly and refused. “Impossible. If you want to be a lapdog, go deliver it yourself. I won’t…” Before I could finish, a scoff came through the phone. “Sarah, I’m not asking you.” “You can’t count on anyone right now. Don’t you even want to go back to your family home?” My whole body stiffened. I let my hand drop helplessly. Following his instructions, I went to the pharmacy, bought protection, and found the hotel using the address he sent. Just as I reached the door, I heard laughter spilling out from inside. I took a deep breath and knocked. The door opened quickly. Liam stood there bare-chested with a cigarette in his mouth. Seeing it was me, he frowned and muttered: “Why is it you?” Then Fiona leaned against his back, deliberately revealing the red marks on her neck, and smiled. “Thanks, Sarah. I’m surprised you still remember Liam’s size.” “You two haven’t been together in so many years—I thought you’d forgotten what size he wears.” I said nothing. My gaze fell on the scratch marks across Liam’s chest. A wave of nausea hit me. I couldn’t help but lean against the wall and vomit violently. Panic flashed in Liam’s eyes and he instinctively reached toward me. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” But the next second I slapped his hand away hard. His body reeked of Fiona’s perfume—I could smell it just getting close. It made me sick. Liam’s outstretched hand froze. He snorted coldly and pulled it back. “You have time to wander around out here—I see you’re just too idle.” “Get home and take care of the baby. And stay away from Fiona from now on.” With that, the door closed in my face. Listening to the flirtatious laughter from inside, I turned and left numbly.

    I don’t know how I made it home. My heart had already died the moment I saw Liam and Fiona together. Fiona was the mistress he kept on the side—I’d always known this. Over the years we’d fought countless times about it. Just when I’d finally made up my mind to divorce him, I unexpectedly got pregnant with the baby. I’d naively hoped this child could win back his heart. Never imagining that nothing could surpass Fiona’s place in his heart. Not just Liam—every man who’d seen Fiona fell for her without exception. Even knowing she had other men, they still threw themselves at her willingly, ready to go through fire and water for her. They’d risk everything, even if it meant losing their families. It turned out all of this was because of that Heartthrob System. Without Fiona around, my baby finally smiled at me. Looking at the child I’d carried for ten months, endless bitterness filled my heart. I’d been too stubborn, bringing him into this world to suffer. That evening, Liam finally came home. But the first thing he did upon seeing me was rush over and start tearing at my clothes. I struggled desperately, trying to break free from his grasp. “Liam! Have you lost your mind?” “Isn’t Fiona enough for you? Don’t touch me!” I couldn’t take it anymore and slapped him hard across the face. Taking advantage of his stunned moment, I clutched my torn clothes and backed away. He touched his reddened face in disbelief and spat: “You think I want to touch you? Fiona said the baby’s too old now—he won’t bond properly. A newborn would develop better maternal feelings.” “Have another child. When it’s born, we’ll send it straight to Fiona.” I never imagined they could come up with something so absurd. I screamed at him in despair: “What do you think I am? A breeding tool?” A breeding tool to have children for another woman! Seeing I wouldn’t cooperate, Liam’s expression darkened completely. He grabbed my hand and dragged me outside. “If you won’t listen to reason, don’t blame me for using force.” I struggled with all my might but couldn’t break free from his grip. I could only let him drag me to the hospital. My brother was already waiting at the operating room entrance. Seeing Liam dragging me over, understanding flashed in his eyes. “Just as I thought—she wouldn’t cooperate willingly.” My back went stiff. This was a trap they’d set together? “Do IVF. Save time. When the baby’s born, don’t let her see it—take it straight to Fiona.” In just a few words, the two of them decided my fate, pulling me toward the operating room. I struggled desperately, crying out hoarsely. “Are you even human? Why should I have a child for her?” “Ethan Williams, I’m your sister!” Suddenly, soft laughter came from behind. Fiona stood not far away, mockingly enjoying my humiliation. I froze at her appearance, shocked at how obvious the system’s side effects were. She’d gained a whole size and showed signs of continuing to gain weight. But she seemed completely unaware, still affectedly playing with her hair. “Sarah, you’re not as charming as me. What else can you do besides have babies?” “Even your own brother won’t side with you. How pathetic.” She gave me a mocking glance and continued urging the two men. “Hurry up and push her in. Oh, and I want a son. Make sure she has a boy.” But as her words fell, neither my brother nor Liam reacted. They were no longer following her every command like before. Both looked bewildered, staring at Fiona with unfamiliar eyes. And under our gaze, her figure visibly expanded horizontally. Her facial skin became pitted and bumpy. She looked exactly like a toad. After staring in shock for a long while, they finally managed to say: “Holy crap, who’s this ugly toad?”

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