Category: English

In the hotel restroom, I was cleaning my blouse soaked with milk stains when a pair of hands caressed my softness from behind. I grabbed that groping hand and threw him over my shoulder. My mother-in-law rushed up and slapped me across the face. Because I had fractured her precious son’s tailbone… Today was the baby’s one-month celebration party at a fancy downtown hotel in Chicago. I’d been bustling around since early morning. Even with the air-conditioner cranked up full blast, I was still sweating buckets. My husband pulled me aside and pointed at my chest. Seeing the hunger in his eyes, I smacked the back of his head. “Pervert, we’re surrounded by people!” But before I knew it, he dragged me into an empty corner, pulled up my blouse, and exposed the pair of full, white, round breasts underneath. They were already glistening with milk. “Honey, how did they get even bigger? I literally nursed from them this morning.” He looked all pitiful, but the desire in his eyes was impossible to hide. “Stop it, guests are arriving soon.” “Just one quick sip, babe.” “No… ah!” The heavy weight on my chest suddenly felt light the moment his mouth covered it, like a huge burden had been lifted. Guests, banquet—none of it mattered in that moment. “Hello?!Someone here?” The sudden shout snapped me back to reality. I quickly pushed my husband off, pulled my blouse down to my neck, and shot the man in front of me a warning glare before letting it go. The one who called out was my husband’s younger brother, Derek Winter. His gaze swept over us, lingered on my husband’s mouth for a second, and he flashed a knowing grin. Guess the kitten didn’t wipe the milk off his face properly. I pinched the soft flesh on my husband’s waist hard where Derek couldn’t see. Only then did he casually wipe the leftover milk from his lips, laugh it off, and say, “The coconut water at the banquet is really good—kids love it.” Then he hurriedly dragged Derek away, leaving me alone in peace. I let out a huge sigh of relief, double-checked that everything looked fine, and went out to greet the guests. My mother-in-law handed our daughter over to me. That’s when I noticed a small silver bracelet on the baby’s wrist. “Thanks, Mom. Sweetie~ isn’t Grandma so good to you?” She also gave the baby a thick red envelope—probably a few thousand dollars. Everyone around said I had a great mother-in-law and Emily had a wonderful grandma. But her next words silenced the entire room. She pulled out two heavy gold bracelets and a $10,000 red envelope, dangled them in front of baby Emily, then put them away. Confused, I watched as she said to my daughter, “Emily, hurry up and give Grandma a little brother. Once he’s born, Grandma will buy you a silver necklace.” “Mom, Emily’s only one month old and you’re already pushing me to have another? And why does a boy get gold bracelets while Emily gets silver? That’s blatant favoritism! How will Emily feel when she grows up—that Grandma doesn’t like her but loves her brother?” The moment the words left my mouth, she slapped me hard. “How dare you stir trouble? You give birth to a girl and suddenly think you’re above everyone? I love grandsons and granddaughters equally—it’s just that girls can’t handle heavy gold.” I held my stinging cheek, wanting to argue, when my husband suddenly stepped in, stuffed a red envelope into my hand, and pulled us apart. “Mom, how could you be so forgetful? You even misplaced the money.” He claimed his mom had cashed out the gold bracelet money into two red envelopes and simply forgot one. I didn’t believe a word of that nonsense. She’s from a small rural town in the Midwest and has always looked down on me for being a city girl from Chicago. My husband and I met in college, dated for seven years before marrying. He loves me—I know that—but he can’t stand up to his mom. He says she raised him and his brother alone, scraping by and even selling family belongings to put him through college. Before marriage, I admired his filial piety. After marriage, even though she constantly made things difficult for me, I didn’t want to put him in a tough spot, so I endured it again and again. I didn’t want to cause a scene on such a happy day, so I excused myself to the restroom to compose myself. I splashed water on my face. Looking up at my slightly red eyes in the mirror, I felt a wave of grievance. Water splashed onto my chest, mixing with milk and soaking a large patch. I’d deliberately worn a white button-down blouse today—the wet spots made the pale mounds faintly visible… Since it was the women’s restroom, I felt safe enough to take off the blouse, leaving just a black lace nursing bra. The blouse would take a while under the hand dryer. I turned my back to the door and started scrolling short videos, completely unaware of footsteps behind me.

I was giggling at a funny video when strong arms suddenly wrapped around me from behind. Thinking it was my husband, I didn’t react much and kept scrolling. Those hands eagerly pushed aside the nursing bra and cupped the peaks, letting out a satisfied sigh—“Oh!” The touch started gentle but quickly turned rough. Ever since giving birth, the milk never stopped. My heavy breasts hung full, and the sensitive nipples leaked at the slightest touch. “Jack, stop messing around—someone might come in! Didn’t you just nurse earlier? And after your attitude today, I’m not letting you drink my milk anymore. I’m really hurt.” Annoyed, I swatted the roaming hands away, intending to turn and rinse the mess on my chest. But he spun me 180 degrees to face him. He lowered his head and latched onto one side. I immediately shoved him off. Because the man in front of me wasn’t my husband—it was his younger brother, Derek Winter! “Sis-in-law, I’m thirsty. I want a drink.” Derek grinned mischievously, pointing at my exposed chest. “Derek! I’m your sister-in-law! How could you…” I stared in disbelief at this twenty-something guy. In my eyes, he was still just a kid. He showed no shame, continuing to stare brazenly at my chest. Furious, I slapped him, then quickly dressed and threw him over my shoulder. With a howl of pain, his tailbone fractured! My mother-in-law watched her son being carried out on a stretcher, collapsed to the floor, and wailed dramatically. “Oh Lord, what sin have I committed? A daughter-in-law who acts like a demon!” She turned to my husband, hitting and pinching him. “This is the trash you married! Look what she did to your brother!” My husband shot back, “Mom, Derek brought this on himself! My wife was minding her business in the women’s restroom—why was Derek even in there? Planning to transition?” That set her off. She slapped my husband hard across the face and cursed him as an “unfilial son” and “white-eyed wolf.” The room was full of friends and family we’d invited. At this point, the celebration was effectively over. I apologized to everyone one by one and tried to see them out, but my mother-in-law blocked the hotel entrance, lying on the ground refusing to let anyone leave, demanding “justice.” “So what if he drank your milk? You think you’re still some pure virgin? A little milk and you try to kill him?” She rolled her eyes so hard they nearly disappeared. “Mothers aren’t women? We don’t deserve privacy?” I laughed coldly. “You’re a mother now—what privacy do you need? Carrying a baby really made you think you’re somebody. We feed and house you, I gave your daughter a red envelope and bracelet—Derek takes one sip and you act like we owe you? Don’t be so greedy!” “Can you stop downplaying this? Derek’s actions constitute sexual assault. I can sue him.” I pulled out my phone to call the police, but the old lady snatched it and smashed it on the ground. I stayed calm. “You seem to forget—this house we live in, half the down payment was mine. Everything I eat and wear now doesn’t cost your family a dime.” I tossed the silver bracelet from Emily’s wrist onto the ground in front of her. “Too expensive—my Emily can’t accept such generosity.” The clank as it hit the floor caught my attention. That sound… this bracelet might be fake? I bent to pick it up, but she snatched it faster and stuffed it away. “I’m old and weak—I can’t win against a city princess like you. You don’t even want the gift I gave my granddaughter.” She hurried out, looking almost guilty. The drama finally ended, but my husband and I were completely done with Derek. My husband, still furious, went to the hospital and beat Derek badly. Only when his mom cried and begged did he stop short of killing him. “Bro, I was wrong. I drank too much and messed up.” His attitude seemed more sincere now. He even brought a first-birthday gift for Emily: matching gold necklaces, one for me and one for her. They’re brothers after all—beating and scolding done, his mom suffered too. I didn’t want to drag it out. Through all this, I realized I loved my husband even more. When it mattered, he stood up first and confronted his mom for me. “Babe, you really love me so much.” Lying in Jack’s arms, stroking the stubble on his chin, I felt indescribably sweet. People online say no matter how loving a couple is, passion fades after a baby. Looks like the internet isn’t always right.

A month passed since Emily’s first birthday party was supposed to happen. Derek was out of the hospital. We live in a big three-story duplex in the Chicago suburbs. Mother-in-law on the first floor, brother-in-law Derek on the second, my husband and I on the third. Since everyone was home, we had to eat together. Dinner was painfully awkward. I quickly ate a few bites and went upstairs to nurse Emily. Once it was quiet downstairs, I handed the baby to the nanny and grabbed my car keys to head to my postpartum fitness class. I got in the car and tried to close the door, but it wouldn’t shut. A shadow suddenly loomed over me. It was Derek. He forced the door open and climbed into the passenger seat. I opened my mouth to scream, but he covered it with his hand. In that moment, my mind raced—murder, rape, robbery… I wanted to escape, but reason told me it was useless. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for death, but he suddenly let go and shoved a photo in my face. It showed a mother lifting her shirt to nurse her child. The full, pale breasts dominated two-thirds of the picture. What horrified me was… The mother was me. The only person who could have taken it was my husband! I zoomed in countless times, searching for any sign it wasn’t him, but… The background was our bedroom. The angle was straightforward. “What is this supposed to mean?” My voice shook. He opened his phone. The first thing I saw was my husband’s messages in a group chat. “My wife’s chest got so much bigger after the baby—huge and soft. Enough to feed both me and the kid every time.” Below were photos of me nursing, taken at different times and places. It was a 15-person group—all men. His relatives, friends, and coworkers. I flung the phone away. Before I could scream, Derek covered my mouth again. “Shh!” I asked why he was showing me this. He said he felt terrible about what he did the other day and wanted to tell me the truth. “Big bro’s messages in the group were really explicit. I lost my mind and…” “What exactly did he say?” I still clung to hope. “He told everyone to go ahead and try it—no need to be polite…” His parting words: “Be careful of my brother.” Cold sweat poured down my back as I sat in the sealed car, heart pounding painfully in my ears. I calmed myself. If I confronted my husband directly, he’d deny everything and cover his tracks. I started the car and went to class as usual. That night, the nanny brought Emily to me to nurse. My husband, as always, asked the nanny to leave the room. I used to think it was just to protect my privacy. Once she left, he eagerly lifted my shirt. I cursed him as a pervert, but he just grinned foolishly. Emily nursed happily. I deliberately turned my body away from him. “Why so shy all of a sudden, honey?” “Yeah, you should leave too.” I teased, but he got annoyed, forcibly turned me to face him. I looked down at Emily’s face, catching in my peripheral vision that he was staring at his phone. He let out satisfied chuckles now and then. When he wasn’t looking, I tried to grab his phone. He immediately stuffed it in his pocket, on high alert. “What’s so funny? Let me see.” I stared seriously. He wiped the smile off his face. Under pressure, I got the phone, unlocked it, and went straight to the messaging app. I searched every chat—nothing like what Derek described. I was sweating profusely when he suddenly opened the photo album. The first image was me nursing—but only my head was visible, nothing below the neck. “Just saved an ugly pic of you, that’s all, scary wife.” He hung his head, looking wronged. I set Emily down and hugged him. “I thought…” “Thought I took pics of your chest? Silly wife, how could I? You’re a mom now—you deserve privacy. I respect that.” His eyes looked sincere. Was Derek lying to me?

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To make some extra cash, I headed to the film studio to work as an extra. My build was similar to the lead actress, so the director called me over to be her stand-in. But it wasn’t until I signed the contract that I realized this was an adult film. The steep penalty clause left me with no choice but to agree. And what did I have to face? Nude scenes, wide-angle shots with extreme movements. And… Xiang Sinian. Mr. Donovan, the producer of *Whispers of the Bloom*, found me while I was lying motionless on the ground, pretending to be dead. After the director yelled ‘Cut!’, he handed me a business card. “We need a stand-in for the lead actress for one reshoot. Won’t take long—five thousand RMB. Interested?” I nodded frantically, signing the contract without hesitation, terrified that someone else might snatch this golden opportunity if I hesitated. I’d been a stand-in before. Usually, it was for falling, crashing, or getting beaten up. Compared to lying on 104-degree Fahrenheit pavement pretending to be dead all day for a measly $45, this gig sounded way better. Five thousand for a stand-in… At the time, I just figured the crew was loaded. Until Mr. Donovan led me to meet Director Reed. Director Reed circled me, eyeing me up, then nodded in satisfaction. “Take it off.” I looked at Mr. Donovan, confused. Take what off? “Bai Wei, you signed the contract yourself—it’s all in black and white. Trying to back out now?” I’d been in such a rush earlier that I completely forgot to read the contract carefully. It clearly stated “intimacy double”—the kind where you’re completely bare. There are some lines I just won’t cross, and this was definitely one of them! “I’m so sorry, Director Reed—I really didn’t read it properly earlier. I had no idea it was this kind of situation. I can’t…” “Twenty times the breach of contract fee.” “Me? Not able to do it? Absolutely impossible!” I forced a smile. “Don’t you worry—I’ll be the best stand-in you’ve ever seen!” I’m just a regular college student, only working as an extra to make some quick cash because I’m broke. Now, instead of earning anything, I’d owe a hundred thousand? That’s practically a death sentence! It’s just an intimacy double—not actual adult content! Just close my eyes, and it’ll all be over.

Director Reed handed me a script. “We’re pretty tight on time, so let’s just start. This scene is primarily the lead actress’s fantasy—big movements, let loose… Don’t be nervous, Sinian is an excellent actor; he’ll guide you.” Sinian? Xiang Sinian?! My gaze swept across everyone present, finally locking onto the man on the bed, being prepped by the makeup artist. He was looking down at the script in his hands—strong, chiseled brows, a sharp nose, slightly parted thin lips, a flawless face. My face flushed crimson, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm in my ears. I have a secret: I’m in love with Xiang Sinian. I have another secret: I’ve more than once fantasized about being tangled up with Sinian in my mind.

Director Reed brought me over to Sinian’s side. By now, the makeup artist had left, and Sinian was alone on the bed. He was shirtless, propped up on one elbow. Sinian must be incredibly disciplined. His abs were toned and firm—not overly bulky, exactly the kind young women swoon over these days. My gaze drifted lower, to two perfectly sculpted V-cut abs, their ends tantalizingly hidden beneath a blanket. The partial covering only made it more alluring. Now it wasn’t just my face—my entire body began to feel feverish. If it weren’t for the circumstances, I might even think I was sick. “Qu Lanying’s stand-in?” “That’s right—her name is Bai Wei.” Sinian smiled at me, like a ray of sunshine breaking through a snowstorm. “I might accidentally get a bit handsy when we start shooting in a moment. I apologize in advance—if you feel uncomfortable, please say something, it’s completely fine.” A wave of warmth washed over me, and I mumbled, “Mm-hmm,” looking down. Then, as per Director Reed’s instructions, I did a quick run-through. Sinian pressed me beneath him. When the face I’d imagined thousands of times in my dreams was truly inches away, I was so nervous I almost forgot to breathe. “Honey, I love you—can you trust me?” Sinian gently gripped my chin, tilting my head back. I couldn’t meet his gaze, my eyes darting downward. The blanket had shifted slightly, and I realized he was only wearing boxer briefs. His legs, straighter than any woman’s, were wrapped around mine like a snake, sending goosebumps prickling over my skin. Whether it was his natural talent or he was truly immersed in the role, I could feel a burning heat radiating from his abdomen—even through three layers of fabric. “Perfect! That’s roughly it! Lin Jiaojiao is an innocent girl, and for her first forbidden taste, it should be this mix of shyness and anticipation.” Director Reed cut in at the right moment, then added another instruction: “It’ll be a wide shot later. Sinian, just deliver your lines as usual. Bai Wei, simply show the emotion you’re feeling right now.” “When we shoot the nude intimacy scene later, make the movements more exaggerated—otherwise, they won’t show up on camera. After the kiss, just let the blanket hang halfway off the bed…” I don’t remember anything else Director Reed said because my mind was completely blank. Although I’d prepared myself to be nude, I hadn’t expected Xiang Sinian to be completely naked as well. And from what Director Reed said, there would be a kissing scene… I couldn’t tell if I was more nervous and scared or more excited. This feeling, surprisingly, mirrored the lead actress’s character.

The makeup artist had done my makeup to look about sixty percent like the original lead actress, Qu Lanying. Aurora was a well-respected actress in the industry. Normally, she wouldn’t need a stand-in for intimate scenes like this. But as luck would have it, Xiang Sinian and Qu Lanying were cousins. They’d grown up together—acting opposite each other was fine, but getting intimate and rolling around naked in bed? That was a bridge too far for them. I slowly, hesitantly, shed my clothes under the blanket, lying flat on my back like a concubine awaiting her emperor. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sinian. A male assistant was squatting in front of him, applying prosthetic skin and tape for protection. This was standard procedure for male actors shooting explicit intimate scenes—I’d witnessed it on other sets. But after Sinian was secured, it seemed… larger than other male actors I’d seen. He walked over to me, shirtless, and got into bed. Everything was ready. Director Reed gave the command: “Clear the set! Prepare to roll!”

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I Fell for My Boss He taught me the tricks to getting promoted and a raise—up close and personal. Feeling the clash of our bodies, I sank deep into a web of self-deception… Blake Harrison was my boss, in a sharp tailored suit, his long fingers holding a pen as he stood in front of everyone delivering a speech. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses was a restrained maturity far different from us fresh-out-of-college grads. I watched his distinct knuckles push up his glasses, unconsciously crossing my legs. God, Mr. Harrison is so hot! Sexy yet so controlled—if only those hands could caress my body… Imagining that blush-worthy scene, my face flushed and my breathing quickened. “Emily Brooks, what do you think about Apex Corp’s profit this quarter?” The boss’s voice suddenly rang out. Startled, I jumped up from my chair. The movement was too sudden, making my well-developed curves bounce noticeably. “I… I…” “Boss, sorry, I don’t know…” I lowered my head in regret—getting caught fantasizing about the boss in public was so embarrassing! “Sit down. Come to my office after work.” Blake Harrison’s sharp gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses nearly made my legs give out; it was like he could see through all my thoughts. But my body reacted under his stare, making me even more shy as I bowed my head and clenched my thighs. My face burned; it felt like his eyes scanned every inch of me, as if I were standing naked before him. Blake Harrison turned away, withdrawing his gaze from me, and continued discussing those boring numbers as if nothing had happened. I gripped my skirt tightly, feeling a mix of shame and anticipation, completely missing the dark glint that flashed briefly behind his gold-rimmed glasses.

After work, I lingered in the restroom for a long time before slowly heading to Blake Harrison’s office. I liked Blake Harrison; his handsome, mature aura deeply attracted me. Just thinking about being alone with the boss soon made me excited without realizing it. I deliberately hiked up my pencil skirt high, barely covering my perky backside, revealing my slim, long legs in sheer black stockings. My professional blouse was tailored a bit snug, hugging my perfect curves. I undid a few buttons, wearing a small silver star pendant on my long neck that subtly disappeared into my impressive cleavage. I ran my fingers through my hair a few times and pushed open the door to Blake Harrison’s office. “Boss…” I called out cautiously, entering and closing the door behind me. Blake Harrison was the son of the company’s largest board director, said to be here gaining experience before taking over as boss of this branch. He quickly became the dream guy for countless colleagues thanks to his striking looks and prominent family background. He sat at his desk reviewing files, perhaps tired, having removed his gold-rimmed glasses and set them aside. He looked up; without the glasses, his unguarded gaze swept over my chest and legs. To make the best impression, I straightened my chest to meet his eyes. Honestly, I was a bit scared, not sure what this behavior implied. I just genuinely felt that since I liked him, I wanted to show my best side. But in a flash, Blake Harrison looked away, patting the chair beside him for me to sit. He reverted to his serious, ascetic demeanor from the meeting. I slowly walked over and sat down; maybe I pulled my skirt too short, because sitting made only my tiny panties touch the chair. The cool sensation jolted my overexcited nerves, snapping me back to reality with a sudden fear. Feeling the man’s presence beside me, I grew tense, anxiously clutching my skirt. “HR says you graduated from Northwestern University?” “Um… yes.” Our school was just a regular undergrad program; I never expected to get into this company. I kept my head down, not daring to look at him, staring blankly at my smooth, exposed thighs. “Yeah, that’s right.” Blake Harrison paused, suddenly reaching out to pat and stroke my back. I trembled in fear, but he withdrew his hand and pulled out the report I’d submitted that morning: “There are some issues with this report. I think new hires need more practice. So every evening after work, come to my office to draft a report. I’ll teach you some simple techniques—are you willing?” He emphasized “techniques,” his eyes playful. Maybe I didn’t react fast enough; I looked up, staring at him dazedly. We were very close; he narrowed his eyes, a meaning and darkness I couldn’t read in them. I nodded in a daze: “Ah, okay. Th-thank you, boss.” “No need to thank me.” He smirked like he’d succeeded, suddenly placing his hand on my bare thigh, even rubbing it unconsciously a few times. “Then… let’s start with how to build a good relationship with leadership.” As he spoke, his large palm slowly moved up, touching the fabric under my skirt hem. The man’s breath suddenly neared my ear, his seductive voice whispering: “The quality of your relationship with leadership depends on two factors: one is the employee’s own abilities and qualifications.” He first lingered on my short skirt hem, then narrowed his eyes and suddenly reached under my skirt, touching my smooth core! “Ah! Sir, no!” I cried out in shock, trying to push his hand away, but he increased his force, trapping me in his palm. “Miss Brooks, dressing like this to see me—you want me to do this to you, right?” “I don’t!” I shouted angrily. “Shh—” His finger pressed my lips. “Baby, don’t resist easily. You know the consequences of resisting me.” He smiled, moving his other hand to my chest, continuing: “The second factor influencing the relationship is the employee’s attitude toward leadership—” He rubbed vigorously, I clenched my thighs, unable to hold back a moan. The boss I once admired was such a beast in a suit; I closed my eyes in despair, silently crying. Just then, the office door was knocked on a few times: “Boss, finance says there are a few issues needing your review—it’s urgent.” I looked pleadingly at the man before me, shaking my head. Blake Harrison frowned unhappily, continuing his force below while biting my earlobe: “Miss Brooks, private lessons—this is our little secret.” I quickly agreed, almost fleeing, but as I turned to leave the office, I locked eyes with the person outside. My expression shifted from panic to calm; unnoticed, I slipped a tiny recording device into his pocket— Looks like our fish has taken the bait.

I waited at the corner for a moment until the guy came out of the office. We exchanged a glance, then walked separately to an empty stairwell. “Emily, maybe we should call it off—it’s too risky.” The guy looked worriedly at the red marks still on my thighs, showing reluctance. “I’m fine.” I pulled my skirt down further. “Jack Bennett, I can’t give up. I always dream of Mia’s appearance that day—I can’t forget, I don’t dare forget.” My mind replayed those piercing scenes. My Mia endured far more than this—how could I quit here! Jack Bennett’s eyes reddened too; he took off his jacket and draped it around my waist: “Okay, I’ll stay with you.” Jack Bennett, Mia Thompson, and I grew up together as close friends in an orphanage. Later, though Mia was adopted, our bond remained as strong. Two years ago, after we graduated, Mia interned at this company, and the nightmare began then. I closed my eyes, filled with Mia’s sorrowful cries. Her last phone call in life was to me. Back then, I didn’t know what she was going through. By the time Jack and I arrived, she had no vital signs. The bathtub water was a glaring red; I’ve dreamed countless times of that blood-red water spreading to my feet, swallowing me again and again. I knew that was Mia’s unrest—the person who harmed her was still free; how could she rest in peace? Later, we found Mia’s diary, vaguely recording her admiration for Blake Harrison. Page after page documented a girl’s budding feelings; it also recorded a devil’s crimes. But when we tried to report it, Mia’s adoptive parents, who had always been distant and indifferent, only cared about saving face: “Flies don’t sting seamless eggs—Mia must have had issues herself! I advise you not to blow this up; we can’t afford the shame!” My Mia, in her stifled life, desperately pursued her love, only to be led step by step into hell by a scheming villain. Blake Harrison mentally controlled her, trapping her in endless confusion and fear, until she ended her life this way. But she was clearly in pain, yet in her diary, she brainwashed herself repeatedly, saying it was all for love. Is this love? This is a cage. Mia’s adoptive parents firmly refused to report it; her funeral was hasty. This past year, I’ve secretly investigated many people, realizing Mia wasn’t the only victim. Blake Harrison is cunning; he excels at toying with young girls’ emotions. With money and power, minor scandals pose no threat to him. So this year, while running several social media accounts, Jack and I worked hard to infiltrate this company—just to get the most direct evidence. I rubbed my reddened eyes, touching the small star pendant on my chest, gazing firmly at the darkening sky outside: Mia, none of this was your fault. The bad guys will get the punishment they deserve.

It was time for my appointment with Blake Harrison again; I awkwardly tugged at my skirt hem and entered his office once more. After entering, I followed his instructions and removed my loose outer coat. He still looked impeccably dressed, head raised, staring directly with playful eyes at my outfit today. He placed the chair I sat in between his legs, gesturing for me to sit. I clutched my report, taking small steps to avoid flashing anything. “Why so shy?” Blake Harrison chuckled; when I was a few steps away, he suddenly pulled me into his lap. I lowered my eyes, pretending to be scared. One hand gripped my chin, the other reached under the chair. A “click” sounded, and suddenly my lower body felt cool. The chair had a hollow center! His hand quickly reached in; I trembled involuntarily. He smirked even more playfully, his other hand flipping open my report. On the last blank page, his bold handwriting read: “After work, wear the clothes I sent you and come to the office.” He pressed against my back, hot breath on my ear: “I’ll check if our Emily has been a good girl and listened to the boss…” As he spoke, he reached into my clothes and under my skirt. I endured the discomfort, my voice mosquito-like: “Mr. Harrison… can we not do this?” The man paused, then intensified: “Why? Doesn’t Emily like it?” I bit my lip hard, burying my hate-filled face low: “Is the boss doing this because he likes me?” “Of course—I like every one of you.” He greedily curled his lips, flipping me over so my back was against his desk. “The boss likes young, pretty college girls like you the most.” His forearm hooked under my knees, slowly leaning down to kiss my chest. I grew anxious—if this continued, not only would I fail to get a confession, but my situation would become more dangerous. When Blake Harrison tried to remove my last barrier, I suddenly struggled, with real tears and hatred: “Please, let me go! Boss, please!” I fell to the floor; in the chaos, I even slapped him hard across the face. “You beast! Let go!” Blake Harrison froze, then laughed disdainfully: “You think you’re so capable?” “I’ve played with so many female students—didn’t they all end up obeying me?” He opened the nearby computer, clicking to pull up surveillance footage. He had cameras installed in the office, recording indecent videos of all the girls. He used these videos to threaten and lure them deeper into the abyss, with no way back. I glared at him with red eyes; he didn’t care: “At first, they looked at me with eyes like yours—didn’t they all submit in the end?” “I’ve seen too many girls like you. I advise you to drop that ridiculous pride. In a way, I’m your benefactor.” “You think you got into our company because of what? If not for your… assets… would I hire you?” Blake Harrison eyed my disheveled, exposed state greedily: “If you don’t use your strengths to serve us, what will you do later—get played by others anyway!” “Look now—using your body to work—isn’t that a respectable job?” “And aren’t you all coming to me willingly?” I shivered uncontrollably, not expecting Blake Harrison to be this perverted—this was a full criminal chain. And our bodies were the merchandise on display… I couldn’t help touching the star pendant hiding the recorder, my temples throbbing. Blake Harrison suddenly narrowed his eyes, glancing at the pendant in my hand: “Speaking of which, you remind me of a previous girl—not sure how…” He rubbed his chin, saying casually: “Too bad she wasn’t obedient—didn’t get to play enough before she died, hahahaha…” His cruel lips curled high, his ugly face twisting before me. I felt like falling into an ice pit. Mia… Mia didn’t commit suicide… He sneered, tossing a black card on the floor: “This Saturday night, 8 PM, Room 802. Don’t be late—this is your first ‘client.’”

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In the seventh year of our marriage, he made the decision for me and agreed to put us on a divorce reality show. The reasons were impeccable—high ratings, high returns, a reliable way to stabilize the company’s stock price. In short, not a single one had anything to do with me. As always, I simply nodded and played along. On the day of filming, he already had the script written in his head: I would lose control, and he would step in afterward and magnanimous. But the moment the lights came on, I felt an unexpected clarity. So I looked straight into the camera and said evenly, “I want a divorce.” I think that when he agreed to join the show, he must have already prepared himself to be devoured by his own plan. When my agent informed me about participating in a divorce-themed reality show, I paused. “James agreed?” “Of course.” She seemed amused by my question. “Your recent livestreams haven’t performed well, and celebrity divorce topics are trending right now. James specifically cleared ten days in his schedule to film with you. Make the most of this opportunity – it’s the least you can do after all his support.” I remained silent. The word “support” was interesting – it suggested a mentor and mentee, a teacher and student, business partners. Anything but husband and wife. “Just sign it.” She tossed the contract in front of me. I stared at the thin stack of papers without moving. She glanced at me with a smirk. “Relax, it’s not a real divorce.” “I’ll review the show’s content first and let you know when I’ve signed.” She frowned, clearly displeased. “James has already approved this.” As she left, her parting words floated back: “Why make things so difficult? You’ll end up signing anyway.”

That evening, James called. When his deep, magnetic voice came through, I felt strangely unfamiliar with it. His latest company project had kept us apart for two months. His phone was usually with his assistant Chloe. To reach him, I had to explain my purpose to her first, and she would decide if the call was worth passing through. So I generally didn’t bother trying. “Sophia.” Music played softly in the background. “I heard you were being difficult today?” I paused. “Heard? From whom?” He sounded annoyed. “I’m too busy these days to coach you, but you need to grow up. Work is work – you need to be professional, not act like a child.” I gave a soft “Oh.” “About that reality show – word travels fast. I see the agent complained to Chloe. And being difficult? Just because I said I wanted to review the contract before signing?” The phone went quiet for two seconds before his slightly weary voice returned. “You didn’t even finish college. What could you possibly understand about contracts?” “Everything’s been prepared for you. You just need to sign. Everyone’s already exhausted, why can’t you be more considerate instead of creating obstacles for the staff?” “Sophia, when will you ever mature…” That tone again. For years, whenever I didn’t follow his instructions, whenever I expressed my own opinions, I faced this attitude from him. Mild reproach mixed with hints of disappointment and resignation. The familiar suffocating feeling rose from deep within, blocking my chest, choking my throat until I couldn’t speak. “James!” A soft, pleasant female voice cut in. “I think I can guess what Mrs. Thompson is concerned about.” It was Chloe. James didn’t respond. His silence was acceptance. Chloe let out two melodious laughs and continued smoothly. “This is a divorce reality show after all. Mrs. Thompson has to declare she wants a divorce in front of a national audience. She loves you so much, naturally she’s worried that pretending might accidentally become reality.” “So James, this is actually your fault. You didn’t consider her feelings and handled it too roughly. Her sulking is understandable.” I froze. Setting aside her presumptuous interpretation of my feelings and dismissing my concerns as mere sulking… She was criticizing James. Criticizing the usually towering, all-knowing James of being wrong. I couldn’t help but be curious about his reaction. Over the phone, James was quiet for a moment before giving a low “Mm.” “Chloe makes a good point. Sophia, I didn’t think this through properly.” In that instant, I let out a silent laugh. Outside, the few remaining leaves on the sycamore tree were caught by an autumn breeze from somewhere, falling silently to the ground. “However,” James continued, “besides being husband and wife, we’re also business partners with cross-holdings in multiple companies. Divorce would benefit neither of us. These worries of yours – if you’d just think it through logically, you’d know they’re unnecessary. Sophia, you’ve been with me for five years. I thought you’d learned to analyze situations objectively by now. You need to work on this – learn from Chloe’s example.” Chloe and I were both twenty-seven. We’d met James in the same year. The difference was that she came from an elite background, graduated from Stanford, and possessed both intelligence and grace – the perfect combination of beauty and brains. I was just a reality show contestant who dropped out of college to act, making a name for myself solely on looks. Critics said of me, “Beautiful, yes, but soulless.” Initially, I actually thought James would choose her… Now, James had finished speaking and fallen silent. He was waiting for me to apologize and reflect, like always. He would incisively point out my shallow understanding and immature mindset, and I would sincerely reflect, accepting his criticism or working harder. But this time, I said nothing. Through the phone, only the tireless background music continued to flow. After a while, I asked: “You have me on speaker?” One of our few arguments in four years of marriage had been when I called him to be affectionate one time and heard Chloe’s sudden laughter. Later, discovering he had me on speaker, I was mortified and furious, crying hard until he promised it would never happen again. Back then, our relationship had still been good. He had promised. “Sophia.” James clearly remembered this incident. “Chloe had some wine at dinner, I’m driving with navigation on, so—” “It’s fine, I was just asking.” I laughed noncommittally, my eyes falling on the signature line at the bottom of the contract. “I’ve signed the contract. I’ll give it to the agent tomorrow.” James was satisfied. Satisfied that I hadn’t dwelled on Chloe’s presence. Satisfied that I had once again docilely accepted his arrangements. “You’ve always wanted to visit Altai, haven’t you? Once things settle down, I’ll make time to take you there.” “We’ll see.” I hung up the phone.

My first meeting with James after two months was on set. My agent dropped me off, while Chloe accompanied him. Two cars arrived from different directions, doors opening simultaneously. He was in the middle of a conference call, standing sideways in his impeccable suit, his profile cutting a striking figure. Chloe wore a navy fitted trench coat, her long hair dancing in the wind as she waited quietly beside him. I tilted my head, observing them. I had to admit they made a stunning pair. My agent abandoned me to hurry over to them. “Mr. Thompson!” “Ms. Chloe!” Chloe merely nodded, indicating not to disturb him. She didn’t glance my way once. The three of them stood together on one side. On the other, I silently unloaded my own luggage. Though the cars weren’t far apart, it felt like we were separated by galaxies. I wheeled my luggage inside first. The other two couples were already seated on the couch – one pair were singers, the other regular people. I smiled and greeted them. Through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, I could clearly see Chloe bending down, carefully helping James with his suit buttons. Her face was at his waist level, long hair tangling around her waist in the wind, creating an ambiguous scene. The regular wife was quite outspoken. She nodded towards them and bluntly asked: “Is she the reason you’re getting divorced?” I smiled. “No.” The four people inside clearly didn’t believe me, secretly sneering. James walked in, surrounded by staff. Seeing me, he sat down beside me, showing mild displeasure. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” I started peeling an orange from the table. “I came in to learn about the process first, so we wouldn’t keep the crew waiting.” He glanced at me, surprise flickering in his eyes. After all, I used to be someone who would try every possible way to assert my claim on him whenever I was by his side. “You need to firmly choose divorce for the first two times, only giving up in the final choice for the twist.” He instructed me in a deep voice. I nodded, popping the orange into my mouth.

The agent’s script went like this: I want a divorce, he doesn’t. He joins this show to understand my thoughts and save our marriage. After arguments and honest communication, I finally reveal it’s because he’s been too busy with work and absent these past few years. He sincerely apologizes and promises to focus more on family from now on. Finally, I tearfully admit I still love him and give up on divorce. We reconcile, and everyone’s happy. It was completely fake. Seeing me frown, my agent mockingly asked: “Don’t tell me you want to make it real?” I had once asked James to change my agent. Chloe opposed it, citing the agent’s extensive network and professional expertise. James supported her opposition and told me to prioritize work over being difficult. Naturally, my agent despised me. And I didn’t like her either. The first day had no filming, only pre-show interviews. In the interview room, couples made their first choices. “I want a divorce.” I spoke calmly to the camera. James frowned beside me. “You need to show more emotion when you say it. We need engagement, discussion, views,” he critiqued. “Otherwise, who would believe you want to divorce me? They’ll just think you’re acting again.” “Use your head more. I can’t always guide you through everything.” I opened my mouth to speak but was overwhelmed by a deep sense of powerlessness. I couldn’t bring myself to say a single word. These past two years, I’d been constantly wrapped in these emotions, as if trapped in a cage. Though I knew I needed to break free, I always seemed to lack the strength. When internal energy is insufficient, external force becomes necessary. The director was a young man who still maintained an uncorrupted purity about him. He reviewed the footage. “Actually, it comes across well. As an experienced actress, you conveyed the emotion perfectly.” During James’s individual interview, I waited outside, not wanting to listen. My phone rang – surprisingly, it was Chloe. I initially wanted to reject the call but thought better of it and answered. “He’s almost done with the interview. Just call him directly later.” “Mrs. Thompson, I’m not calling for him. I’m calling for you.” “For me?” “Yes. James has never been away from me for several days straight. There are two things I need to remind you about.” Chloe’s tone was gentle and polite. I watched James walk out of the door and put the phone on speaker. “Go ahead, Assistant Chloe.” Chloe’s elegant voice echoed in the hallway. “First, James’s throat inflammation has flared up. I put his medicine in the inner pocket of his black bag. Please don’t let him eat anything cold or spicy, it’ll irritate his throat. Second, he sometimes gets migraines at night. Remember to massage his temples – it needs to be continuous for ten minutes to be effective. If you’re not sure about the technique, you can call me anytime.” “Mrs. Thompson, did you get all that?” Before I could answer, James snatched the phone from my hand and spoke coldly: “Chloe, who told you to call Sophia?” The other end suddenly went silent. I found it somewhat amusing and actually laughed. James watched me, his scrutinizing gaze tinged with confusion. In the past, in situations like this, I would have caused a scene, angrily accusing Chloe and crying to him in hurt. While Chloe would always remain emotionally stable, explaining things gracefully, making me look like a lunatic. “She means well. You’re scaring her with that tone,” I said, taking the phone back from him and hanging up. I walked straight to the interview room. We still had the couple’s joint interview to do. As I pushed the door open, James was still standing by the corridor window, motionless. Suddenly he called out: “You’re not bothered?” I looked at him. “Bothered by what?” His composed features flickered with irritation. “Nothing. Let’s go in.”

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On the third day of the nationwide livestream, I became the person everyone wanted to strangle with their own hands. Paralyzed in a wheelchair, I watched my sister work three jobs a day until her kidneys failed—yet I offered not a single word of concern. When she collapsed on the floor, I didn’t call an ambulance. Instead, I transferred my last savings to my gambling-addicted brother. The doctor said that if I donated one kidney, her life could be saved. I only smiled and replied, “No.” They called me a monster who drained my sister dry over a lifetime. But no one knew that I did all this because— Her being alive was more dangerous than her death. As soon as the hidden cameras were installed, the secret livestream began. Vanessa, my “sister,” walked in after work, sporting heavy dark circles under her eyes. She dragged herself to my bedside, preparing to help me clean up. Seeing a mess beneath me, there wasn’t a flicker of disgust in her eyes, only profound heartache and self-reproach. “Lauren, did you have an upset stomach last night?” She touched my forehead, blaming herself. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault; I’ve been so exhausted from work lately that I slept like a rock. I forgot to check on you in the middle of the night and keep your blanket on, leaving you uncomfortable all night…” I watched her silently, not speaking. The live chat, however, exploded: “My God, this sister is incredible! She just got home from work, saw this total mess, and her first reaction was to blame herself.” “Right? If I’d worked all day and came home to that, I’d be fuming!” “She really is a saint; she’s making me tear up!” Vanessa didn’t know about the hidden livestream. She just single-handedly turned me over, preparing to help me to the bathroom for a shower. But she was too tired. Even with all her strength, she struggled to lift me from the bed. Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Vanessa opened it to find my brother, Brandon, standing there. Her eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing here?” Brandon had a cigarette dangling from his lips. He said nonchalantly, “If I’m not mistaken, this apartment is the one Mom and Dad signed over to Lauren, right? As Lauren’s brother, there’s no big deal if I stay at my sister’s place for a few days, is there?” With that, he just barged in. Vanessa was too exhausted to argue after a long day, so she just told Brandon, “Then lend me a hand and help me get Lauren to the bathroom. I need to give her a shower!” Brandon shot me a disgusted glance, muttering, “That’s sickening, she reeks. No way am I touching her!” Vanessa frowned. “Brandon! Lauren is your own sister! She just gave you all the lottery money she won. How can you refuse to even help her?” Brandon scoffed. “She gave me the money willingly. You’re not trying to guilt-trip me, are you?” Vanessa sighed. “I respect all of Lauren’s decisions. She gave you all her winnings because she wanted you and your wife to live well.” “She’s so good to you; can’t you be a little good to her?” Brandon sneered. “What’s the point of being good to her? She’s just a paralyzed invalid, a waste of space for a decade!” “I don’t know why you bother taking care of this useless person every day. She’d be better off dead!” At this sight, the live chat instantly boiled over: “Seriously? Is this guy even human? Wishing his own sister dead right to her face?” “And his sister just handed him all that money!” “I seriously don’t get it. Her sister slaved for a decade taking care of her, went deep into debt, even lost her marriage, and got absolutely nothing in return! Is this sister out of her mind?!” “She’s ungrateful to such an amazing sister but so good to this heartless animal of a brother? Did the paralysis affect her brain too?!”

Brandon didn’t help in the end. It took Vanessa over an hour to clean me up. She was drenched in sweat from exhaustion, but she still meticulously changed my clothes, settling me into my wheelchair. “Lauren, you must be hungry, right? Sister will go make you dinner now.” Due to extreme fatigue, Vanessa almost fainted when she stood up. But she only paused for a few seconds before forcing herself to walk into the kitchen. Soon, she brought out grilled salmon, a rich beef stew, some steamed greens, and a pot of steaming chicken soup. Vanessa placed the dishes in front of me, then carefully blew on a spoonful of chicken soup to cool it before bringing it to my lips. “Lauren, this chicken soup was made from a free-range chicken I specifically bought from the local farmers’ market. You always loved this when you were a kid, try some.” I turned my head, my voice cold. “I don’t want to eat.” Vanessa’s eyes were filled with worry. “Lauren, you already had an upset stomach. If you don’t eat something to replenish your strength, your body won’t be able to take it.” I looked at her, my tone still distant. “I don’t have an appetite.” Then, I looked at Brandon, who was sprawled on the couch playing on his phone, and said softly, “Brandon, I want that pastry on the coffee table.” Brandon didn’t even look up, saying impatiently, “I bought that for myself. If you want it, push your wheelchair and go buy your own!” Vanessa glared at Brandon, then turned to me, her voice gentle. “Lauren, eat your dinner first. After that, I’ll go buy you a pastry, okay?” I stubbornly shook my head, refusing to eat the food she made. At this sight, the live chat exploded: “Is this sister crazy? Refusing her sister’s home-cooked meal, but demanding her brother’s pastry?” “I thought she was just confused, but she’s so utterly pathetic. Her brother treated her like that, and she’s still fixated on his stuff?” “Poor sister, she’s putting in so much thankless effort. She worked so hard to make a whole table of food, and Lauren won’t even look at it.” “That’s disgusting. The more I watch, the more I think this younger sister is such a terrible person!”

The first day of the livestream ended. The chat was filled with insults directed at me. On the second day, Vanessa got off work a little earlier than usual. As she came in, she held a warm bag in her hand. “Lauren, you wanted a pastry yesterday, right? Sister bought it specifically after work. It’s your favorite savory kind, try it quickly.” She handed the pastry to me, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. I glanced at the pastry, my tone indifferent. “I don’t want it now.” A flicker of disappointment and sadness crossed Vanessa’s face. But she forced a smile and said, “What do you want to eat then? Sister will make it for you.” I shot her a cold look. “I don’t want anything you make.” With that, I maneuvered my wheelchair, ready to go to the balcony for some fresh air. As I exited my room, I bumped straight into Brandon, who was holding a liquor bottle. The bottle in his hand fell to the floor, and he immediately exploded in rage. “Damn it, are you blind?! You just spilled all my expensive liquor!” He picked up the bottle and forcefully kicked my wheelchair. The wheelchair lurched violently, tipping to one side. “Lauren!” Vanessa cried out, rushing forward, shielding me and the wheelchair with her body. Her hand was scraped by the wheelchair, leaving a deep gash, visible to the bone, bleeding profusely. But she ignored the pain, quickly steadying me before turning to Brandon, shaken and furious. “Brandon! You almost hurt Lauren!” Brandon glared at me. “She’s useless; she can’t even feel pain. Why are you so worked up?” “This is so annoying! All that good liquor wasted because of her!” Brandon grumbled as he stomped back into his room to continue drinking. Vanessa, still shaken, first checked me all over to make sure I was okay. Only after confirming I was unharmed did she endure the pain in her hand to inspect the kicked wheelchair. Finding a buckle somewhat loose, she immediately pulled out her toolbox. She tightened and reinforced it little by little, working late into the night. In the livestream, the comments continued to boil over: “I’m crying. Where can you find a sister this good? Her hand is so badly injured, yet all she cares about is her sister.” “Seriously, why is this amazing sister so unlucky to be stuck with such a blind, heartless invalid of a sister?” “Exactly! Is this sister’s heart made of stone? Her sister has done so much for her, why is she so cold to her?!” “No wonder they say unfortunate people often have something hateful about them. This sister is so hopelessly biased towards her brother, she deserves to be paralyzed!” “This is so suffocating. Sister, just let go! This kind of sister isn’t worth it!” The livestream chat was filled with outrage. Even Mr. Henderson, the reporter, called me. “Is this the three-day secret livestream you wanted? Do you know what the chat has been saying about you these past two days?” “Your sister has done so much for you. Aren’t you just asking to be hated?” I glanced at Vanessa, who was quietly tending to her wound in the living room, and said calmly, “There’s one last day.” “Then you’ll know everything.”

On the third morning, Vanessa, as usual, came into my room as soon as she woke up. “Lauren, how are you feeling today? Is your appetite any better?” She expertly checked my condition while asking softly. I didn’t answer, only glanced indifferently at her bandaged hand. It was still oozing blood. Seeing me silent, Vanessa, as always, massaged my limbs. She moved my joints, preventing muscle atrophy. Her movements were gentle, as if she were tending to a precious treasure. “Lauren, look how nice the weather is today.” “After breakfast, I’ll push you outside to get some sun. The doctor said outdoor activities are good for your health.” She looked out the window, trying to find topics of conversation. But I remained cold. “No thanks.” Her hand paused slightly, and she said nothing more. After the massage, she fetched warm water, meticulously washed my face and hands, then made me breakfast. The livestream comments continued to scroll: “This sister is still being her same stubborn, lifeless act today. It’s infuriating.” “Exactly! Her sister’s hand is so badly injured, and she still has to take care of her. Does she not even offer a word of concern?” “Honestly disgusting. Some people just don’t deserve kindness!” That day, Vanessa didn’t go to work. She said she wanted to spend quality time with me. After finishing everything, she pushed me to the balcony to get some sun. She combed my hair, trimmed my nails, and cleaned my ears. She made sure every inch of me was clean and tidy. After all the chores, she pulled a small stool and sat beside me. Gripping my hand tightly, she began to speak softly. “Lauren, do you remember? When we were little, you loved to pull me onto the balcony to sunbathe. You said the sun always made you feel better.” “On my wedding day, you cried so much, clinging to my hand and refusing to let go.” “You once said your biggest wish was for me to be happy…” As she spoke, her eyes welled up. Just then, her phone rang. But she didn’t answer. Instead, she gave me a deep look, then hung up. Then, she looked at me, a faint smile on her face. “Lauren, it’s time.” I smiled faintly. This moment, it was finally here. With that, Vanessa straightened up, gave me a cryptic look. And then she did something that stunned every single viewer watching the livestream…

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After I got pregnant, my boyfriend tricked me into going to the rainforest to “relax.” Once inside, he took all the supplies and pushed me down a steep slope. This was not an accident. His one true love had said it herself— as long as the baby and I were alive, her life would be ruined. In my previous life, I bled to death in the jungle. He faced a live camera and announced: I had insisted on the expedition and died by my own recklessness. This time— the woman they personally killed walked back into the spotlight, alive. There was a sharp pain coming from my body, and I slowly opened my eyes to find myself at the bottom of a cliff in the forest. If it weren’t for the soft dirt beneath me, I would have died. I was a guide at Ailfa Mount Forest Park and was 12 weeks pregnant. I was supposed to be resting at home, but my husband, Bradley Cooper, insisted that I be a guide for his childhood friend, Ashley Thompson. I was furious. “I’m pregnant now. Why are you making me give Ashley a tour guide?” Bradley said, “If Ashley’s personal tour guide hadn’t had a temporary commitment, I wouldn’t be asking you to do this, Amanda. Besides, you’re only 12 weeks pregnant. It won’t hurt.” I got angry and said angrily, “I’m not going.” “Go or get a divorce,” said Bradley. I could only compromise. In my previous life, I had taken Ashley walking in the safety of the forest park. But she took advantage of my inattention and ran into the primitive forest of Ailfa Mount, which was infested with poisonous insects, miasma, and crisis. I couldn’t leave her alone and had to chase after her. When I came to a cliff, Ashley said that there seemed to be a person at the bottom of the cliff, so I went over to look. But she suddenly pushed me off the cliff. Ashley said, “Amanda, go to hell. As long as you die, I can be with Bradley.” Luckily, the bottom of the cliff was soft dirt, and I survived. I endured the excruciating pain and groped for half an hour on the ground full of rotten and withered leaves before I finally found the micro-recorder. In my previous life, after I awakened, I had been eager to save myself. Only after I was saved did I realize that the micro-recorder was gone. Without the micro recorder, no matter how I explained the truth, Bradley just didn’t believe me. I took a closer look at the micro-recorder and was relieved to find that it was not broken. I had a habit of taking the recorder with me when I did one-on-one guided tours so that I could have proof if something happened that I couldn’t explain. The one thing I could be sure of now was that Ashley had dared to kill me in the primeval forest because she had traveled this road with her private guide. But she overestimated herself. The primeval forest of Ailfa Mount was like a labyrinth. Even if she had walked through it dozens of times, she would still get lost, let alone without a guide, which was why she was also in danger. After I bandaged my injured leg at the bottom of the cliff, I immediately followed the route I had taken in my previous life to leave the mountain. In this life, I didn’t want anything to do with Bradley and wouldn’t ask him for help. Coming to the tree I had seen in my previous life, I realized that there were two paths in front of me. In my previous life, I chose the left one, which led to getting lost before I asked Bradley for help. In this life, I chose the right path and headed for the right side. After I had walked 1250 yards, there was a sudden chill of cold air in front of me, and then I realized that a white mist had risen from the ground. I hastily retreated. The white mist was miasma, and I would die if I inhaled it. I was forced to the tree again. Looking at the time, it was already past three in the afternoon. Ailfa Mount would be dark by five. At night, Ailfa Mount was infested with poisonous insects and wild animals, and it was very cold. It would be dangerous for me to lose my warmth. I had no choice but to take the left side of the road. After an hour or so, it was dark. I climbed up a tree and looked for a signal source. At this time, my cell phone battery was only 2% left. Luckily, as in my previous life, I got through to Bradley at the last minute. “Bradley, I’m in distress, probably southeast of Ailfa Mount, within 9100 yards upstream of Snake Lake. Come and help me,” I yelled. Bradley said, “How could you, as a veteran guide at Ailfa Mount, not get out? You’re such a vicious woman. How dare you take Ashley into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount? Do you want to kill Ashley? I know what’s in your mind. Don’t pretend to be lost. I’ll settle the score with you when you get out. Right now, I’m going to save Ashley.”

With that, Bradley hung up. I froze. What was going on? In my previous life, he would have obviously come to my rescue first, and he didn’t say those words. After thinking for a moment, I suddenly understood. Bradley had also been reborn. This time, he chose to save Ashley first. I tried to call the rescue center, but my phone was dead. I felt a wave of fear enveloped me. On all sides were interlocking and strange trees, and the weird noises were emanating from the gloom. I couldn’t delay any longer and had to get out of the mountain quickly. At the moment, I was lost in reverse, but I had to keep going. My injured leg went from pain to numbness. As I walked, it got dark. I was exhausted. The water and food in my backpack had been eaten up by Ashley not long into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount. I sat on the ground panting heavily as the temperature reached 23 degrees Fahrenheit and the branches of the trees lit up with eerie silver “lights”. They were night birds staring at me. In the distance, there was a horrible hissing of wild animals. I was a bit desperate, not knowing whether I could get out alive. Just then, a few lights penetrated through. It was the rescue team coming. “Amanda, why aren’t you out yet?” The two team members who came, Dylan Murphy and Joshua Collins, were Bradley’s men. “Dylan, Joshua, it’s good you’re here. Hurry up and get me out of here,” I said breathlessly. “But we have a mission. Bradley told us to search and rescue Ashley,” said Dylan. “Aren’t you guys going to rescue me?” I questioned. At that moment, Dylan’s satellite phone rang, and it was Bradley calling. Bradley asked, “Did you two find Ashley?” Dylan replied, “Bradley, we didn’t find Ashley, but we did find Amanda. Should we take Amanda out first?” “Don’t bother with her. She’s just trying to delay you guys from getting to Ashley. You guys hurry and head downstream to Snake Lake,” said Bradley anxiously. “Dylan, Joshua, I’m really dying. Why don’t one of you two take me out first, and the rest of you keep looking for Ashley?” I pleaded. “Amanda, the rescue team has a rule that two people are required for an action. Going alone would be dangerous,” explained Dylan. “Amanda, our whole team knows that you hate Ashley. But you went too far this time. How could you take Ashley into the primeval forest? You should know very well the danger of Ailfa Mount.” Joshua complained about me for Ashley. Dylan said, “Joshua is right. Amanda, you really went too far this time. If anything happens to Ashley, you are legally responsible. “Also, how could you get lost? You’re the guide of Ailfa Mount. You should be more familiar with the geography here than us.” I was a guide for the Ailfa Mount attractions, not for the Ailfa Mount primeval forest. Dylan said, “Amanda, stop pretending.” “I’m not pretending. Can’t you guys see that my leg is hurt?” I said angrily. Dylan looked at my leg and said, “Then you wait for us here, and we’ll go search and rescue Ashley first.” Wait? How long would I have to wait? I didn’t know if Ashley had been bitten by a snake right now. If a snake had bitten her, they would have waited in place for a helicopter rescue. At that time, would they be able to come back and rescue me? I said, “Give me water, food, and an outdoor jacket, and I’ll get out on my own.” I decided to save myself. After giving me the supplies, they both continued to swim down towards Snake Lake. I was less tired after I put on the outdoor jacket, drank water, and ate cookies. I couldn’t continue walking at night. A campfire was built, and I was too wary to sleep. Just after six in the morning, a faint bright light shone through the cracks in the branches of the trees to the ground, and I started to move. After six hours of walking, I finally made it to the exit. Just at the moment of relief, the stabbing pain in my leg and exhaustion suddenly hit me, and I passed out.

When I woke up, I found myself in the hospital at the Ailfa Mount. “Amanda, would you like some water?” A girl asked me. “Hailey?” She was Hailey Richardson, my coworker. She had happened to find me fainting at the exit and took me to the hospital. “How did you get into the primeval forest?” asked Hailey, puzzled. I said, “It’s complicated.” Just then, Bradley’s voice came from the corridor. “Where is she?” Hailey immediately walked over. “Bradley, your wife is here.” The door to the ward was open. I looked over at Bradley, and his eyes were so cold. A man said, “Bradley, Ashley is in Ward 8.” “How is she?” Bradley asked. The man replied, “She’s fine, just losing her warmth.” “That’s good.” Bradley went straight to Ward 8. Hailey was shocked. “Why didn’t your husband come in to see you?” I smiled bitterly and didn’t explain. The next day at noon, I saw Bradley walking through the corridor with a lunch box. He didn’t even glance toward me as if I didn’t exist. I had bought that lunchbox. I would often go to the rescue unit to bring food to Bradley. Now, he was carrying my lunchbox and delivering food to his beloved. It was kind of ironic! I was getting ready for bed around ten o’clock at night when Ashley pushed open the door and came in. I asked, “What do you want?” Ashley said wickedly, “I really didn’t think you were so tough that falling off a cliff didn’t kill you.” I said, “Are you going to turn yourself in, or am I going to call the police on you?” Ashley laughed, “Do you have any evidence? Who would believe you?” “There’s always a day when the truth is revealed,” I said. Ashley said smugly, “The truth? The truth right now is that you took me into Ailfa Mount and tried to kill me. I desperately ran away from you and was saved. “By the way, are you having a hard, aggravating time right now? Bradley chose to save me instead of you.” After experiencing my previous life, I was now utterly disappointed in Bradley. If I hadn’t encountered the miasma, I wouldn’t have asked Bradley for help. “Have you finished? Get out when you’re done,” I said in a cold voice. Just then, the sound of steady, heavy footsteps came from the corridor. The footsteps were all too familiar to me. It was Bradley. Suddenly, Ashley slapped herself. Then, she collapsed on the floor and looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Bradley and I are just friends, Amanda. I can understand that you don’t believe me. But why did you hit me?” The door to my ward was pushed open. Bradley dropped the food he was holding and ran over, heartbroken, to help Ashley up. “Amanda, you’re a mean, vicious bitch. Ashley wasn’t wrong. Why did you hit her? Don’t you realize she hasn’t recovered from the distress?” “Did I not get in distress? Did I recover physically?” I asked. Bradley said, “You deserved it. If you hadn’t lured Ashley inside the primeval forest, not so much would have happened.” “Do you believe anything she says?” I questioned. Bradley said firmly, “Yes, Ashley doesn’t lie.” I roared, “Fine. I don’t want to argue with you guys. You’re both assholes. Get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to see either of you.” “My face hurts.” Ashley cried, covering her cheek in aggravation. Bradley was outraged and reached out to slap me hard. I was dazed from the slap and stumbled, falling to the ground. A sharp pain came from my belly. Looking between my legs, I realized that blood was flowing out.

After coming out of the emergency room, the doctor told Bradley and I that the baby was fine. “You rest easy and nurse the baby. Deal with our marriage after the baby is born,” said Bradley icily. “Do you still care about the baby?” I sneered. Bradley said, “Of course. The baby is my bloodline. How could I not care?” His words were so ironic. In my previous life, he had ignored the fact that I was pregnant, locked me up in a secret room full of poisonous snakes, let me be bitten alive by the snakes, and then watched as the already-formed child and I were eaten clean by the snakes. But in this life, he cared about the baby. After Bradley left, I approached the doctor. “Doctor, please perform an abortion on me.” I thought, “My child, don’t blame me for being cruel. Even if I give birth to you, you won’t be happy. Living a new life, I don’t want to have any involvement or ties with Bradley. Forgive me, my child.” After being discharged from the hospital, I returned home and opened my computer to draft the divorce agreement. Just after ten in the evening, Bradley came home. “I have something to say to you.” We both surprisingly spoke in unison. “Go ahead,” I said. Bradley said, “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to Ashley to apologize, and you’ll have to beg her forgiveness.” I laughed, “Are you insane? Are you asking me to beg her for forgiveness?” “Shouldn’t it be? Ashley and I are just friends. I just think of her as a sister. But you’re so petty and vicious that you always think Ashley and I have something to hide,” said Bradley stubbornly. “Are you sure you really just see Ashley as a sister? What sister would ask you to go to her room in the middle of the night to install a light? What sister would come to my house when I’m on a business trip and watch TV in your arms in a miniskirt?” I retorted. Bradley blushed, obviously knowing I was right. “Regardless, it was your fault for luring Ashley into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount this time. You were so evil that you tried to get Ashley killed. Shouldn’t you apologize?” He said loudly. I was furious and took out my micro-recorder, placing it in front of him, then roared, “See for yourself exactly who harmed whom.”

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I was working overtime, and my blood sugar crashed. My fiancée’s male assistant offered me a piece of chocolate. Turns out, it had peanuts. I’m severely allergic. Soon, my body was covered in hives, and I struggled to breathe. I collapsed on the floor, begging my fiancée to take me to the hospital. The male assistant, Caleb, looked so hurt as he explained: “I didn’t know Alex was allergic to peanuts, and this chocolate only has a tiny bit of peanut in it.” My fiancée, Jessica, glared at me, her eyes blazing: “Stop faking it! You just can’t stand seeing me do well by Caleb. A man’s jealousy is pathetic!” Even Chloe, my childhood best friend, cursed me for being manipulative and shoved a handful of peanuts into my mouth. “Caleb is so kind, and you’re still targeting him. How disgusting!” After that, they grabbed the “traumatized” assistant and rushed off to a luxury suite at a hotel. I suffocated and died right there on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very night of overtime.

A figure flitted nervously around my desk. “Oh no, Alex, your blood sugar is low? Quick, eat this chocolate!” Caleb blinked his big, innocent eyes, holding out a piece of “chocolate” to me. Meeting his overly concerned gaze, a wave of sickening dread washed over my spine. The agony of suffocating to death in my past life surged through me. Caleb suddenly pouted, his eyes welling up. He knelt before me, his legs giving out. “I was so thoughtless! Alex, you’re Jessica’s fiancé; you usually eat expensive things. You must look down on anything someone like me offers.” “I… I deserve to die, boo-hoo-hoo! Alex, please don’t blame me! Please don’t hit me!” His utterly provocative act made me see red. Last time, I was on the verge of collapsing at my desk. Caleb, seemingly out of kindness, came over and offered me chocolate. I was deeply touched by his apparent generosity. “Thank you.” I smiled gratefully at him, tore open the wrapper, and tossed the treat into my mouth. Not long after, huge red rashes erupted all over me. My body itched so badly I wanted to tear my skin off. Then, I started coughing uncontrollably, collapsing weakly onto the floor. I struggled to grab Caleb’s pant leg: “Y-you gave me peanuts?” Caleb blinked his innocent eyes, feigning confusion as he explained. “Peanuts are nuts, too, Alex. I didn’t lie to you.” But in his eyes, there was a flash of triumph. In that moment, I knew he was doing it on purpose. I wanted to beat him to death. However, my throat was swelling, making it harder and harder to breathe… Nightmarish memories flooded my mind. I snapped my eyes open, staring at Caleb, who was still kneeling before me. “Caleb, on your very first day, I told you I was allergic to peanuts.” “And you’re still pretending you didn’t know?” You bastard, trying to pull the same stunt again? Furious, I lifted my foot and *thwack* – I kicked him, sending him flying into the back of a desk leg. Immediately, a huge bump swelled on his head. He clutched his head, curling up and looking at me in disbelief. “You kicked me? What did I do wrong with my good intentions?” Innocent tears streamed from his eyes, as if I were some kind of villain. He burst into loud sobs: “I know I can’t stand up to you, but you shouldn’t just bully me because Jessica has your back!” He made such a scene that everyone else still working overtime turned to stare. My colleagues’ gazes were filled with condemnation. They whispered amongst themselves. “He’s so arrogant, just because he’s Jessica’s fiancé. He’s just a useless nobody.” “He actually made the new guy kneel and used violence? Is there no decency left?” Looking at these people, I felt a surge of anger. When I was dying last time, where was all your outrage then? Caleb trembled, huddling into a ball. “I truly didn’t know you were allergic to peanuts, Alex.” Still playing innocent. I wanted to give him two more slaps, but then a sharp female voice came from behind me. “Alex Miller, how dare you hit Caleb?!”

Jessica stormed over on her high heels, immediately pulling a tearful Caleb into her embrace. Caleb buried himself in her, sobbing and hiccuping. “I… I just saw Alex working so hard, so I offered him chocolate!” “I know Alex doesn’t like me since I became Jessica’s assistant. Maybe I should just leave. Only if I leave you, Alex will be happy.” “Otherwise, every day will be hell for me!” What a masterful liar! Hearing his words, Jessica’s heart ached even more, her eyes turning red. “You’re not going anywhere! As long as I’m here, Alex Miller won’t dare bully you!” Then, she gritted her teeth and snapped at me. “I really spoiled you, turning you into a worthless bully!” Worthless? A bully? Her face, distorted and venomous under the harsh office lights, looked utterly alien in that moment. To make her branch manager’s performance look good, so she could get promoted to corporate headquarters sooner. I worked day and night, preparing proposals for her. Several times, I worked overtime to the point of intense stomach cramps, a racing heart, dizzy spells, and even collapsing right at my computer! Only to wake up the next day and continue working… I secured countless important projects for her. She’d forgotten all that. A few simple accusations from the man in her arms were enough for her to slander me. The ridiculous accusations from the person I loved most made my whole body ache with anger. An uncontrollable nausea rose in my stomach; I almost threw up. That’s right, in my previous life, she protected Caleb the same way. When I told her Caleb gave me peanuts and begged her to take me to the hospital. Caleb, as if deeply wronged, cried hysterically. “But I saw Alex drinking a peanut smoothie just two days ago! Alex, what do you have against me? Why are you slandering me?” This time, not only did Jessica accuse me of being jealous and dramatic. But even Chloe, my childhood best friend, who came to pick Caleb up after work, witnessed the scene. She then forcibly shoved handful after handful of peanuts into my mouth… My eyes bulged as I suffocated. Before I lost consciousness, I saw my fiancée and childhood friend, each linking arms with Caleb. Jessica gazed at her little assistant with deep affection. “Caleb, you’ve worked so hard working late. Let’s get a luxury suite tonight to reward you.” Chloe turned back to me, sneering. “Alex Miller, you deserve whatever comes next. Even if you die from this allergy, it’ll be the price for bullying Caleb!” My colleagues watched me with cold eyes; no one paid any attention to my pleading hand. “He deserves it for provoking Jessica’s most important person.” “I heard Caleb’s real identity is actually…” They whispered amongst themselves. “No wonder Jessica values him so much, and even Ms. Chloe treats him with such care. Caleb’s noble aura just can’t be hidden, even as a junior employee.” “That jerk Alex, he deserves what he gets for bothering someone he shouldn’t.” They closed the doors and windows, happily leaving for a company dinner with the funds Jessica specially approved. I lay alone and helpless on the cold floor. Until I became a stiff corpse… The memory sent shivers down my spine. I abruptly widened my eyes, pulled open my drawer, and threw a pile of medication and hospital records onto Jessica’s face. “Is this what you call ‘spoiling’ me?” Then I slammed a stack of contracts I’d secured onto her desk. “Is this what you mean by ‘worthless’?” A flicker of guilt crossed her face. I pointed at Caleb, still feigning innocence in her arms: “Me bullying him? Which eye are you seeing that with?!” I’d suffered enough; I wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. I yanked Caleb out of her embrace and started dragging him towards the exit.

“Y-you let go of me! Where are you taking me?” The main entrance was blocked by glass. I dragged him by his hair and slammed his head into the biometric scanner. With the hatred of two lifetimes, I used all my strength. The scanner shattered instantly. The alarm blared, “Ahhhhh!” A trickle of blood ran down Caleb’s forehead. Jessica snapped back to reality and rushed over, her eyes burning with fury. “Alex Miller, are you insane?! I order you to let go of Caleb!” I smiled, gritting my teeth. “Didn’t you say I was bullying him? How could I possibly disappoint you?” Jessica was livid, swinging her hand and slapping me across the face. Her sharp nails left deep, fiery gashes, and the stinging pain froze me in place. Again, she hurt me without hesitation, for someone else! While I was stunned, she snatched a wailing Caleb back into her arms. Caleb touched his forehead, which only had a small cut, and tears streamed down his face in terror. “It hurts so much! Am I going to be disfigured?” “I knew I shouldn’t have been so willful. My sister didn’t want me to come to the branch to learn. It’s all my fault for being so headstrong…” In an instant, Jessica’s face turned white. Rumors had long circulated that the CEO’s younger brother had secretly joined a branch office. Now Caleb had just admitted it himself! Jessica pointed at me, her eyes bloodshot, and yelled at the approaching security guards. “Arrest him! Make him kneel and apologize to Caleb!” Despite my struggles, the security guards immediately twisted my arms behind my back and tied me up. Jessica sent Caleb to the hospital, and they took me there too. “Quick, call all the specialists! Make sure Caleb doesn’t have even the slightest scar!” She was so frantic she could barely speak, as if Caleb had lost an arm or a leg. As doctors swarmed into the room, Jessica finally let out a sigh of relief. Then, her gaze fixed on me, cold and piercing. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” “Our company worked so hard to achieve today’s success. Are you going to ruin everything?!” I scoffed, a laugh escaping me. “You’re truly insane for Caleb.” Jessica shook her head: “Alex Miller, you are rotten to the core.” She clenched her fist and ordered the security guards. “Hold him down. Don’t let go until he bows down and apologizes a hundred times to Caleb.” Caleb, feigning distress, clutched Jessica’s skirt, whimpering. “Forget it, Jessica. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t accidentally given Alex those peanut snacks, he wouldn’t have lashed out at me and injured me.” “It’s just because Alex loves you too much. Please don’t break up because of me…” Heh, what a scumbag. He made me sound like some kind of possessive, violent psychopath. Jessica’s face was grim. “Caleb is still pleading for you, and look at yourself, your maliciousness. I don’t think we need to get married anymore!” I stared at her cruel face, as if all our past happiness had been nothing but a lie. I fought back tears and shouted. “Fine! From today onwards, we have nothing to do with each other!” “You…” Jessica was momentarily stunned, as if she hadn’t expected me to agree so readily. At that moment, the medical staff in the room glanced at me with peculiar looks. And with Caleb injured, everyone felt more pity and sympathy for him. Yet no one saw the blood from my face running down my neck, staining my white shirt… As the medication was applied to Caleb’s head, he let out a sharp cry of pain. Jessica snapped back, saying. “I am so disappointed in you. What are you waiting for? Hold him down and make him apologize and bow down to Caleb!” “Never! I’d rather die than bow down to him!” A security guard kicked my knee hard. My joint buckled, and I involuntarily dropped to my knees. Jessica, how could you make me suffer such humiliation, lose all my dignity? At that moment, a figure exuding a palpable chill walked into the room.

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That year, the one where we were practically broke, I followed Alexander to Germany for his studies. He casually mentioned Christmas was coming. I washed dishes at a local diner for half a month, then spent twenty euros on a small Christmas tree. He glanced at it and called it pathetic, practically trash. That very evening, Alexander maxed out all my credit cards to get Vivian a whole farm of German firs. The next day, they returned home together. Their high-profile union became the talk of the town. Meanwhile, I was penniless, evicted by my landlord, and nearly froze to death in the heavy Munich snow. Six years later, we met again. Alexander stood at the entrance of my temporary apartment, lugging a luxurious Christmas tree, his eyes red as he wished me a Merry Christmas. I firmly stated, “Mr. Alexander, I absolutely despise Christmas.” Chloe’s POV Alexander clearly froze at my words, a flicker of bewilderment crossing his usually playful eyes. He probably hadn’t expected such a blunt rejection. After all, when I was sixteen, I’d been so thrilled by a ring he’d woven from grass that I couldn’t sleep for three days. “Chloe,” he said, setting down the priceless Christmas tree. His voice was laced with a hint of caution, completely lacking the demanding, high-status CEO image he usually projected in the media. “Don’t be mad. I know you’re blaming me.” “Back then, I truly had no choice. If I didn’t play along, we’d both starve.” He tried to reach for my hand. “I’m free now. My grandpa handed the Alexander family over to me.” “I’ve taken care of Vivian too.” “Chloe, look, I still remember you once saying you wanted a Christmas tree covered in crystals.” The tree he brought was adorned with all sorts of expensive crystals, shimmering beautifully in the sunlight. It was stunning. “You suffered so much with me back then. I can make it all up to you now.” “Chloe, let’s start over, okay?” But my heart felt strangely calm. If it had been the Alexander from six years ago standing here, saying these things, I probably would have joyfully leaped into his arms, screaming and kissing his face. Now, though, as I looked at the opulent Christmas tree, I only felt a sense of absurdity and a bitter laugh welling up inside. What was the point? Could it take me back six years, so I wouldn’t have to rummage through restaurant dumpsters for food on freezing nights? Could it prevent my landlord from throwing my luggage onto the street because I couldn’t pay rent? “Mr. Alexander,” I said, taking a step back, avoiding his touch. My voice was soft. “I’m doing perfectly fine now.” “Fine?” Alexander frowned as if he’d heard a joke. “Living in this hundred-square-meter apartment is ‘doing fine’? Chloe, stop being childish. Come back with me to…” “Mommy.” A timid voice interrupted Alexander mid-sentence. A tiny head peeked through the crack in the door. Lily, in her pink bunny pajamas, clutched a worn-out teddy bear, her eyes wide with fright. She had a tendency to be very shy, fearful of strangers and loud noises, and only truly comfortable with me. Seeing me confronting a strange man at the door, she was clearly terrified, but still bravely ran out to find me. The little one clung tightly to my leg, trembling all over, but wouldn’t let go. Alexander’s voice died in his throat. He looked down, his gaze falling on Lily. The little girl, around five or six years old, had fair skin and dark, shiny eyes like grapes. They were red-rimmed from fear, and her pressed lips showed a stubbornness that was heartbreaking. The soft, warm glow of the apartment lights fell on Lily’s face. Anyone could see the striking resemblance between the child’s features and my younger self, and that defiant expression was so much like his from back then. Before he left Germany six years ago, despite our many conflicts, we hadn’t slept in separate rooms. Alexander’s hand trembled as he pointed at Lily in disbelief, his voice hoarse. “Chloe… this child… who is she?” Just as I was about to pick Lily up, Alexander suddenly crouched down, staring intently at Lily’s face, his eyes instantly turning alarmingly red. “She’s my child… isn’t she?” He stammered, the wild joy of rediscovery almost overwhelming his reason. “Back then… back then you were already pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me? Chloe, how *dare* you wander around all these years with *my* child!” I ignored Alexander’s accusations, quickly trying to soothe Lily, who was trembling with fear. “Lily… you named her Lily…” Alexander’s wild joy intensified. “I knew it! Chloe, you still care about me! I used to fantasize about it, and even told you, if we ever had a daughter, we’d name her Lily! You remembered!” By the end, his voice was choked with tears.

Chloe’s POV I looked at Alexander like this and almost burst out laughing. He had probably conjured up an entire dramatic saga of a single mother on the run in his head—like me enduring hardship and humiliation alone in a foreign country to give birth to his child. This instantly sent his already overflowing guilt soaring to its peak. “Alexander, get a grip,” I said, looking at him coldly. “Not every child in the world is yours.” “You’re still trying to trick me!” Alexander suddenly stood up, his emotions raw. “The timing matches, the looks match! Chloe, you’re doing this to get back at me, keeping my child from me, aren’t you?” “I know I was an ass, but I truly had no choice back then, Chloe. Let me hold her, I’m her father.” He reached out to touch Lily. “Ah—!” Lily shrieked, startled. Her psychological defenses were fragile, and a strange man’s closeness instantly sent her spiraling. She let go of me, covered her ears, and crouched on the ground, her tiny body curled into a ball, beginning to tremble violently. “Lily!” My heart tightened, and I quickly crouched down to comfort her. Alexander stood there, flustered. “I… I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to…” The elevator door opened, revealing Aldrich. “What’s going on?” Aldrich was wearing a dark gray cashmere coat, clearly just back from work, a strawberry mousse cake for Lily in his hand. Seeing Lily trembling on the floor, he quickened his steps, first handing me the cake, then kneeling down on one knee. He skillfully pulled Lily into his arms, his broad hand gently patting her back. “Lily, it’s okay, Daddy’s home.” Lily, who had been screaming moments ago, immediately quieted down as soon as she heard Aldrich’s voice and caught his familiar scent. She buried her face in Aldrich’s coat, her tiny hands clutching his collar, whimpering, “Daddy… I’m scared…” Aldrich gently kissed her forehead, then stood up, holding her with one arm. With his other hand, he instinctively pulled me behind him. He turned, facing a stunned Alexander. Alexander stared at the child in Aldrich’s arms, then at Aldrich’s stern face. “Daddy?” Alexander gritted his teeth. “Chloe, you’re letting my daughter call some random guy ‘Daddy’?” Aldrich slightly raised an eyebrow, his gaze calm as he looked at Alexander, his voice gentle but sharp. “Mr. Alexander, is it your family’s etiquette to harass my fiancée and daughter at my doorstep late at night?” Alexander looked at Aldrich. The Aldrich family, though discreet and not flaunting their wealth, everyone knew Aldrich was a formidable figure. He’d cut his teeth on Wall Street in his early days, then slowly began taking over the family business. He was a force to be reckoned with. “Your wife and daughter?” Alexander laughed. He pointed at Aldrich. “When did the famous Aldrich suddenly get such a grown-up daughter? This child is clearly…” “Clearly what?” Aldrich took a step forward. He was a head taller than Alexander, and his height advantage gave him an imposing aura. “Alexander, if you truly cared, if you had visited Chloe even once in her four years in Germany, you wouldn’t be barking like a stray dog here now.” Alexander winced, his face flushing with embarrassment at having his secret exposed. Aldrich didn’t look at him again. He just turned to me, speaking gently. “It’s cold out here. Take Lily inside. I’ll handle the rest.” I nodded, took Lily, and closed the door. The Alexander from back then would also tell me to hide behind him, but then, for his own future, he’d let go of my hand again and again.

Chloe’s POV The argument outside slowly died down. After comforting Lily, I hesitated for a moment, then couldn’t resist walking to the floor-to-ceiling window and looking down. The black Maybach sat in the snow for a long time, not moving. The streetlights cast its shadow long, much like that field in my memory that felt impossible to cross. And on the haystack beside the field, the boy with a blade of grass dangling from his lips. That was sixteen-year-old Alexander. Back then, he wasn’t called Alexander; everyone in the village called him a bastard. He was the Alexander family’s illegitimate son, hidden away and left to fend for himself in the countryside. I lived next door. Two unsupervised kids, growing up intertwined like wild weeds. That summer was stiflingly hot. After school, we’d run to the small river behind the mountain to cool off. Alexander caught two fish, grilled them golden brown, and gave me the biggest one. As he meticulously removed the bones, he confidently said, “Chloe, when I’m rich someday, I’ll buy this entire mountain, build you a huge house, and treat you to meat every day.” I laughed, calling him a braggart. “You can’t even scrape together your tuition.” He just smiled, his eyes bright like stars in the sky. “Now is now, and the future is the future! Chloe, believe me, I’ll definitely make something of myself.” I smiled back. “Of course I believe you! When you make it big, don’t forget me!” Wealth arrived more suddenly than we could have imagined. The head of the Alexander family lost two sons and four grandchildren in quick succession, and finally remembered there was still a bloodline in the sticks. The day that black Rolls-Royce drove into the village, the dust it kicked up almost blinded everyone. The butler, in a black suit, stood in our dilapidated yard, his eyes filled with disdain, yet he had to respectfully invite Alexander into the car. When Alexander left, he clutched the car door, refusing to get in. His eyes red, he turned back to me, then grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go. “I’m not going! I’m taking Chloe with me!” The butler, his face cold, pried his hand away. “Mr. Alexander, you’re going back to inherit the family business. What would taking a country girl like her look like?” “Once you’re educated and your career is stable, what kind of woman couldn’t you find?” Alexander was forcibly pushed into the car. The window rolled down, and he leaned half his body out, yelling at me, his voice hoarse: “Chloe! Wait for me! You absolutely have to wait for me! I’ll come back for you!” I laughed confidently. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely come find you!” Two years later, I got into a top university far from our village. To save money, I bought the cheapest long-distance train ticket. The twenty-plus-hour journey was filled with the smell of stale feet and crying babies. I stood squashed in the aisle for an entire night. When I got off the train, my legs were swollen and aching like crazy. The destination was a grand city, bustling with people. I dragged my frayed, dusty old canvas bag, feeling lost and unsure where to go amidst the dazzling crowd. “Chloe! Over here!” A familiar voice cut through the noisy crowd. I smiled and turned. There was Alexander, standing in the most conspicuous spot at the exit. In two years, he had changed. He was taller, his skin fairer. He wore a neat shirt and casual pants, his hair meticulously styled. He glowed. He was no longer the wild country boy but the heir to the Alexander family. I instinctively wanted to hide that canvas bag behind me, feeling utterly ashamed of my appearance. But Alexander didn’t hesitate at all. He rushed over, pushing aside anyone in his way, and pulled me, smelling of sweat and travel, tightly into his arms. “Silly girl, if you needed money, you should have asked me. Didn’t you get tired sitting on that train for so long?” His voice trembled with concern. He snatched my dirty canvas bag, slung it over his shoulder, and held my hand tightly with the other, as if afraid I’d get lost. He ignored the strange looks people gave us. He escorted me all the way to school. At the campus gate, someone heckled, “Well, well, Alexander, is this your childhood friend? She looks so cheap-looking!” Alexander’s face darkened, and he shot them a cold glare. “Shut up. This is my girlfriend. Anyone else want to say something?” He took me to a restaurant near the school gate. The prices on the menu made my jaw drop. Alexander puffed out his chest, his eyes shining with youthful arrogance and ambition. “Chloe, even though I’m not in charge yet, I’m working hard. My grandpa really likes me these days.” “Don’t worry, with me around, you’ll never have to suffer like this again.” “I’ll have you fly on planes, ride in private cars, live in mansions. I’ll even take you to study abroad and see the most beautiful sights in the world.” That pizza tasted so good that day, the melted cheese stretched, as if melting my heart. Through the hazy steam, I looked at the smiling boy across from me, my heart brimming with happiness.

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I’d just wrapped up a cross-continental meeting when my phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number. “Are you Dennis Miller’s mother? Please come to the school. Your son led a bullying incident today, and the other parent is demanding compensation!” The voice on the line was sharp, accusatory. My fingers paused, and I instinctively straightened my posture. “Excuse me, I think you have the wrong number. My son attends middle school in Canada; he’s not in school here.” There was a moment of silence, then the voice grew colder. “Our records show you as the guardian, Sarah Miller, an employee of Radiant Group, and this is your cell number. So, is your son named Dennis Miller?” My mind went blank. My name is Sarah Miller, I’m a director at Radiant Group, and my son is indeed named Dennis. After my husband passed away, my son went to live with my parents in Canada. How could he possibly be enrolled in a school here? I didn’t get a chance to explain further before the caller hung up. Half an hour later, I rushed to the Dean’s office at that private middle school. Pushing open the door, a heavy, stifling atmosphere hit me. Several teachers were huddled around a middle-aged woman, speaking in hushed, comforting tones. The woman’s eyes were red and swollen as she clutched a thin, trembling boy beside her. The child had a bandage on his forehead and was still quietly sobbing. On a nearby chair sat a boy with a bowl-cut. Two buttons on his school uniform were undone, his pant legs rolled up to his knees, and he was picking at his fingers. There wasn’t a shred of remorse on his face; instead, he radiated an almost arrogant defiance. At the sound of the door opening, everyone’s eyes snapped toward me. The bowl-cut boy’s eyes lit up. He shot up from his seat, rushed over, and grabbed my wrist, his voice loud and demanding: “Mom! You’re finally here! You have to back me up!” I froze, instinctively shaking off his hand. “You’ve got the wrong person. I’m not your mom.” He paused, then burst into ear-piercing wails. “Mom, why are you pretending not to know me?! They started it; I just pushed him! It’s his fault for not letting me copy his homework!” Owen’s mother immediately turned red with fury, pointing at me. “Is that how you teach your child? He assaulted someone and now you won’t even acknowledge it, you won’t even acknowledge him?” A woman in her early thirties with a frown on her face walked over. “Hello, Ms. Miller, I’m Brenda Collins, from the school. “I just checked our records, and they do show you as Dennis Miller’s guardian. Your child pushed a classmate into a bookshelf, and he needed three stitches on his forehead. The other parents are demanding $7,000 for medical expenses and emotional damages.” I swallowed my surprise and explained, “I came to your school to ask why you have my information in the first place? “My son has always been in Canada; he’s never attended school here!” Then I pointed at the boy. “And he is not my son. I don’t even know him!” The boy’s crying stopped for a second, his eyes darting around before he jutted out his chin and yelled, “You are my mom! Your name is Sarah Miller! You work at Radiant Group! I’m not wrong!” My heart plummeted at his words. How could he possibly know all that information? I instantly calmed myself, staring directly at him. “Shut up, I’m not your mom!” Then I turned to the bullied child. “Little one, did he hit you first?” The child timidly nodded. “He always bullies me. Today, when I wouldn’t let him copy my homework, he pushed me down and said he’d make me regret it.” Seeing this, the bowl-cut boy suddenly lunged to hit him again, shouting, “You’re lying! I’ll rip your mouth off!” I quickly grabbed him, only to find he was surprisingly strong. He struggled, trying to kick, and kept spewing curses. “Let go of me! You’re all bad people! My mom has money; she’ll get you all fired!” The teachers rushed to help hold him down, their faces etched with helplessness. “This boy often bullies classmates, stealing things and yelling at people. We never expected him to be this violent.” Owen’s mother trembled with rage. “You need to give us a clear explanation today! Either pay up, or I’m calling the police!” I looked at this unfamiliar, aggressive boy, my mind swirling with doubt. Why was he using my son’s name to attend school? And why was he pretending I was his mother? Something was definitely wrong here. “Call the police then.” I pulled out my phone. “Let the police investigate who his guardian really is and why he’s using my son’s identity to enroll.”

Just as I raised my phone to call the police, the Dean’s office door burst open with a bang. A bald man with a menacing expression stormed in. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing a network of brutal tattoos. Owen, his face full of grievances, stumbled toward him. “Dad, Dad!” The bald man instantly pulled his son into a fierce embrace, his gaze sweeping over the bandage on Owen’s forehead. His pupils constricted, and his fury ignited. He looked up abruptly, his roar shaking the room. “Who’s Dennis’s parent? Get out here!” The office fell silent. Everyone’s eyes instinctively darted to me. The bald man followed their gazes, locking onto me, and immediately charged. Before I could even speak, a searing pain exploded across my cheek. Smack! The bald man’s fist slammed into me. The force was immense; I stumbled back several steps and fell to the floor, a fiery pain spreading through my nerves. “You’re that monster’s parent, aren’t you? Look at the kind of child you’ve raised!” Still seething, the bald man struggled to lunge at me again, but two teachers held him back. Brenda offered some feigned concern. “Mr. Black, please try to calm down. Let’s not resort to violence in front of the children!” She glanced at me, a hint of satisfaction in her eyes. The arrogant bowl-cut boy, Caleb, now trembled uncontrollably, clinging to my clothes and hiding behind me. I stood up straight, wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, and explained, “Mr. Black, you’ve got the wrong person. I am absolutely not this child’s parent! “My son’s name is Dennis Miller, but he’s been in Canada since he was three and has never attended this school!” I pointed at Caleb, my voice hardening. “I came here today to figure out why you have my phone number and why my son’s information is in your archives!” The bald man paused, the furious expression on his face instantly vanishing, replaced by a flicker of doubt that creased his brow. He pushed away the teachers holding him, grabbed Caleb by the collar, and roared, “Tell me, is she really your mom or not?” Caleb’s face went ashen, but he still jutted out his chin, not a hint of guilt in his eyes. “She is my mom! I’m not lying!” “She’s a director at Radiant Group and has lots of money! She can pay Owen’s compensation!” Brenda, far from trying to de-escalate, added, “That’s right, Dennis’s records indeed list Ms. Miller as his guardian.” “All the information was entered through proper procedures; there couldn’t be a mistake!” The bald man’s fury reignited. He released Caleb and advanced toward me. I backed away repeatedly until my back hit the corner of a desk. He stared into my eyes, grinding his teeth. “If you say he’s not your son, then how would he know all your information?” “Are you the director of Radiant Group?” I straightened my back, meeting his gaze, and said each word distinctly. “I am Sarah Miller, and I do work at Radiant Group, but I am absolutely not this child’s mother. Someone has impersonated me and my son!” The moment I finished speaking, Caleb’s face crumpled, tears and snot streaming down. “Mommy, why won’t you acknowledge me? I’m Dennis!” “I’m sorry, I won’t be naughty and bully classmates again! Mommy, please don’t abandon me.” Crying, he pulled a photo from his pocket and handed it to Brenda . “This is a photo of me and Mom when I was little. Please, Teacher, tell Mom not to abandon me.”

In the photo, I was wearing a cream-colored dress, holding a seven or eight-month-old baby boy in my arms. My mind went blank. This photo was taken a week before my husband’s death. Soon after, my son went to Canada with my parents. But how did it end up in this child’s hands? The bald man also saw the photo. The confusion in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by an icy glare, as if he was convinced I was deliberately trying to deflect blame. Brenda’s voice suddenly turned stern. “Ms. Miller, that’s you in the photo, isn’t it?” Scornful, mocking gazes from everyone in the room converged on me. I tried to explain, but my throat tightened, unable to utter a sound. Because it was indeed me, undeniable. “Since it’s you, stop trying to shirk responsibility!” Brenda took the photo, her tone laced with reprimand. “A child’s misbehavior comes from bad parenting, but a parent avoiding responsibility is utterly despicable! A woman like you doesn’t deserve to be a mother; you have no moral compass! “To avoid a few thousand dollars in compensation, you’d disown your own child? You’re heartless! People like you are a menace; you not only corrupt your child but ruin their entire life!” I stared at her, stunned, unable to comprehend such hostility from a teacher. I took a deep breath, forcing down the surging emotions. “I really am not his mother!” “Why don’t we call the police right now and let them investigate this identity theft…” Before I could finish, the bald man cut me off. “Don’t pretend anymore!” A mocking smirk played on his lips. “Parents with such dishonest, irresponsible character are bound to raise a bullying monster!” The teachers and parents in the office nodded in agreement. “She looks so respectable, but who knew she’d be so irresponsible!” “The child just made a small mistake; she should help him correct it. How could a parent disown her own son?” “And she’s a director at Radiant Group? Shifting blame over such a minor issue, doesn’t she feel ashamed?” They mocked me openly, completely ignoring what I had just said. I trembled with rage, my peripheral vision catching Caleb. He was hiding within the crowd, the fear he’d shown earlier replaced by a triumphant smirk. He was smiling at me, his eyes full of provocation, as if watching a twisted play. Rage instantly clouded my judgment. I lunged forward, grabbing his arm with such force that he immediately grimaced in pain. “Ow! Let go of me!” I clamped onto his arm, forcing him to meet my gaze. “I’m asking you, what’s your name?” “I’m Dennis Miller!” “Where is your father?” “I don’t have a father!” “Then what about your mother?” “My mother is…” He was about to continue when he suddenly looked up at me, a chilling, subtle smile playing on his lips. Then, he pointed his small finger at me, his voice clear. “My mom is right here! You’re my mom!” I completely lost it. Ignoring the strange looks from everyone around me, I reached out and clamped my hand around his neck. “You’re still lying!” His face instantly turned purplish-blue. His hands flailed wildly, and his eyes shifted from defiance to deep terror. My voice was icy, carrying a ruthlessness I’d never felt before. “I’m giving you one last chance!” “Who is your real mother? How did you get this photo? Who told you to impersonate my son?”

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I caught my wife, Sera Hayes, cheating. Before I could even speak, she laid out her three proposals: “Option one: You pretend nothing happened. My extracurricular activities won’t mess with our bedroom dynamics.” “Option two: We divorce, and I’ll marry Dempsey right away. We can still sleep together, but you’ll be the ‘other man’ instead of my husband.” “Option three: You two fight for me. Winner ‘gets’ me – though that doesn’t mean I won’t still seek other men. Any injuries or arrests from your little brawl are on you. I won’t wait around for anyone. I’ll just move on to the next chapter!” She cleared her throat and continued: “I belong only to myself. If you love me, you can have me with my consent, but you can never own me exclusively.” The living room air hung heavy and silent. After Sera finished speaking, she slowly picked up the glass from the table and took a sip of water. Her posture was completely relaxed, legs crossed comfortably, waiting for my decision. I watched her, this woman I’d loved deeply for five years. Her face was familiar, but the words she’d just uttered made her seem like a stranger. Was I angry? At first, yes. When I saw the photos of her kissing that man outside the hotel, my hands had trembled with rage. But now, standing here, listening to her “solutions,” that fire had oddly extinguished. It was mind-boggling, completely insane, and frankly, hilarious in its absurdity. I said nothing, just turned and walked out of the house. “Michael, where are you going?” She called after me, her tone devoid of concern, only a hint of impatience. I didn’t look back. “I’m going out to process your ‘life philosophy’.” I closed the door. Outside, the late-night street was deserted. I walked along the road, aimlessly. My phone vibrated in my pocket. A message from her. “Think it through and tell me your choice. Don’t be childish.” I switched off my phone. Childish? To her, adhering to conventional morality and staying faithful in marriage was just childishness. I walked for a long time, until my legs ached, then sat down on a park bench. It wasn’t betrayal. I finally understood. Betrayers feel guilt, they conceal, they fear. Sera felt none of that. She was enacting some twisted ‘philosophy’. She’d repackaged her infidelity as some cutting-edge, enlightened, beyond-the-mundane theory. And I? I was her first, and most crucial, test subject. If I agreed to any of her schemes, I’d be validating her entire warped ideology. I’d become the poster child, the first true believer in her cult of nonsense. I couldn’t let that happen. As dawn broke, I returned home. Sera Hayes was sitting on the sofa, seemingly having waited up for me all night. She stood when she saw me. “Have you made up your mind?” “I have.” I walked towards her. “Your three proposals? I reject every single one.” Her brow furrowed. “Michael, don’t push me. You know I hate being tied down.” “I have a fourth proposal.” Sera looked at me, a flicker of unconcealed curiosity in her eyes. “A fourth proposal?” “Yes.” I pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. “You believe you belong only to yourself, that others can ‘have’ you but not ‘own’ you exclusively, right?” She nodded. This was the core of her ideology. “And you think this kind of relationship is a more advanced, freer way of being, right?” She nodded again, a faint smile even touching her lips, like a teacher watching a student finally grasp a concept. “Good then,” I said. “Let’s play a game. We’ll call it ‘The Ownership Game’.”

“What does that mean?” “Starting today, we’ll each try to ‘own’ the other in our own way. Whoever manages to completely convince the other wins. The loser, after divorce, walks away from this marriage with absolutely nothing.” I looked into her eyes. “You preach free will, don’t you? This game is a battle of wills. It’s fair.” Sera fell silent. Her fingers drummed unconsciously on the tabletop. This proposal struck her precisely where it counted. She had always prided herself on her intellect, fancying herself a queen of the intellectual realm. A battle of minds, to her, was far more alluring than any physical duel. “Alright,” she agreed. “I accept.” She extended her hand. I didn’t shake it. “One more rule for the game,” I said. “For fairness, I need to meet your lover.” She froze for a moment, then smiled. “Of course. His name is Dempsey Reed. He’s quite eager to meet you too.” “Good. You set the time.” I stood up, walked back into the bedroom, and closed the door. Lying on the bed, I stared at the ceiling. The game had begun. The meeting was set at Dempsey Reed’s studio. An old warehouse, converted into a studio—high ceilings, vast and echoing. The air hung thick with the sharp scent of turpentine and fresh paint. Sera clung to Dempsey’s arm, like she was introducing a cherished piece of art. “Dempsey, this is my husband, Michael Miller.” “Michael, this is Dempsey Reed.” Dempsey extended his hand to me, his face holding a magnanimous, almost pitying smile. “Michael, it’s a pleasure. I understand this might be difficult for you, but emotional connections, you know, they should flow freely.” I released his hand. “Hello, Mr. Reed.” I didn’t show any anger or hostility. I simply assessed him. He wore a loose linen shirt, smudged with a few paint splatters. His hair was slightly long, and his eyes held a self-important depth. A typical ‘artist type’, someone who seemed to thrive solely on abstract thought. “May I look around?” I asked. “Of course.” Dempsey gestured invitingly. “My art is simply an extension of my soul.” The studio walls were covered with paintings. Massive splashes of color, distorted lines. I couldn’t make sense of it, and frankly, I didn’t care to. “Very… unique.” I casually pointed to the most chaotic painting. “This one’s called Breaking Free,” Dempsey immediately perked up. “It’s about the soul’s revolt against the material world, the pure spirit’s cry against the shackles of the flesh.” Sera watched him from the side, her eyes full of adoration. “So, you two connected over a spiritual resonance?” I asked, my tone perfectly calm. “You could say that,” Sera replied. “Dempsey and I are kindred spirits. We both believe love shouldn’t be about possession, but about sharing and enabling each other to be truly free.” “Sounds very profound,” I said. “I’m just an ordinary guy, I don’t quite grasp these things.” “It’s okay, Michael,” Dempsey patted my shoulder. “Not everyone can reach such spiritual heights. But we understand and respect you.” I smiled. “Speaking of which, many of Sera’s ideas are just like Mr. Reed’s paintings, full of philosophical contemplation.” I turned to Sera. “Honey, what was the name of that book you mentioned last night, the one about ‘open relationships’? I think Mr. Reed might be interested.” Sera’s expression stiffened. “What book? I don’t remember.” I calmly reiterated her “brilliant theories” from the previous night. Dempsey’s gaze shifted, a subtle change in his eyes. Sera uncomfortably ran a hand through her hair. “I… I just casually glanced at it.” “Oh, I see,” I said, as if suddenly enlightened. “I thought it was all your original thought.” I saw an awkward smile form on Dempsey’s face. Good. The first seed had been planted.

During the first week of the game, I did absolutely nothing. I went to work, came home, lived my life as usual. Sera and Dempsey’s dates became more frequent. She no longer hid anything from me, sometimes doing her makeup and getting ready to go out right in front of me. “I won’t be home for dinner tonight.” She would inform me. “Okay, have fun.” I would reply. My calmness surprised her, even unsettling her a little. The arguments, interrogations, and emotional turmoil she’d expected never materialized. I was merely a mild observer, watching her perform. One evening, she was getting ready to go out again. I sat on the sofa, reading. She changed into a beautiful dress and came to stand before me. “Michael, do you really not care?” I looked up from my book. “Care about what? Where you and Dempsey go, or what you do?” I countered. She said nothing. “Our game is a battle of wills, isn’t it?” I said. “If I interfere with your actions out of jealousy or possessiveness, then I’ve already lost.” She was convinced by my logic. Or rather, she was convinced by her own theory. She couldn’t refute me, because to do so would be to contradict herself. “What… what are you reading?” She changed the subject. I showed her the book cover. The Second Sex. “Simone de Beauvoir. From your bookshelf,” I said. “I wanted to understand your world better.” Sera’s gaze softened slightly. She probably thought I was trying to align myself with her world. She was wrong. I wasn’t trying to understand her world. I was searching for the weapon to destroy it. After she left, I opened my laptop and searched for “Dempsey Reed.” There wasn’t much information. A few scattered art exhibition reports, a couple of self-aggrandizing art reviews. But one piece of information caught my eye. Dempsey Reed’s father, Arthur Reed. A well-known real estate developer. Dempsey owned a cultural media company, and its biggest shareholder was Arthur Reed. This company consistently operated at a loss, kept alive solely by “project collaborations” from Arthur Reed’s other businesses. In short, it was just a toy company Arthur Reed had set up for his “artist” son. Just another rich kid playing at being an artist with his dad’s money. I printed out these documents and placed them in a manila envelope. Then, I sent Sera a message. “Honey, are you free tomorrow? I’d like to take you and Mr. Reed out for dinner.” She replied quickly: “Yes. Why?” I texted back: “To celebrate our game entering a new phase.” Sera brought Dempsey. The restaurant I chose was an expensive French place. As soon as Dempsey walked in, he subtly frowned. “Eating in a place like this is so superficial,” he murmured to Sera. I heard him but pretended not to. “Please, sit.” I pulled out chairs for them. “Michael, why are you being so formal today? What exactly are you trying to do?” Sera frowned.

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