Category: English

To avoid trouble, I always made up that I had a husband. While shopping with a coworker, I saw a really expensive dress. The salesclerk pushed hard to sell it, so I said: “Never mind, my husband won’t agree. Even if I buy it, I’ll just have to return it.” Unexpectedly, the next day, a package arrived at the company. When I opened it, it was actually that dress! My coworker’s eyes lit up, and she picked up the card inside and read: “To my dear wife: If you like it, you should have it. You deserve all the beautiful things. “Signed — your loving husband!” I was completely dumbfounded. My husband was something I made up. I’d never even been in a relationship, so where did a husband come from? I thought my coworker Lina was just reading nonsense, so I hurriedly grabbed the card. But I saw that these two lines were indeed written on it. “Laura, you usually say your husband won’t let you do this or that. “Isn’t he quite generous? Five thousand dollars, bought without blinking!” A few other coworkers also gathered around. “So your husband is this rich, who would’ve thought, Laura!” I forced a smile, unable to say a word. It had been three months since I joined the company, and my married persona was very stable. Anything I didn’t want to do, I pushed off by saying, “My husband won’t let me.” It worked like a charm. But in reality, I was single and had never even held a guy’s hand! Where did a husband pop up from? I sneaked a peek; the dress was even my exact size. Who sent it? I narcissistically wondered if someone had a crush on me. But I only saw this dress when I was shopping with Lina, so she was the only one who knew about it. I quietly observed Lina’s expression. Completely normal. All day, I was restless. After work, I called the store’s customer service. This wasn’t a small transaction, so the store should have the buyer’s information. But the rep was silent for a few seconds and said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, this order was placed anonymously. The customer opted for privacy protection, so we can’t see the information.” Anonymous? So mysterious. I stared at the dress for a long time, then shoved it into the deepest part of my closet. The next day at work, Lina asked, “Laura, why aren’t you wearing that dress? I wanted to feast my eyes and see what a five-thousand-dollar dress looks like on!” I brushed it off: “Wearing something that expensive to work, isn’t that a waste?” I didn’t dare to wear something from an unknown source. Lina didn’t ask further. I focused on my work, but before long, the receptionist called me. “Laura, you have a delivery!” My whole body shuddered, and I had a bad premonition. Sure enough, when I brought the package over and opened it, inside was a full set of lipsticks. The card inside was signed again: Your loving husband. Lina exclaimed, “Aren’t these the newly released ones? We talked about them last week, and you said you liked several shades!” Yes, and I had even casually said at the time: “I really want to buy the whole set, but my husband definitely won’t let me. He always says I have enough lipstick.” Lina shook her head. “Won’t let you buy? Now he just bought the whole set for you! Laura, what kind of angel husband do you have!” Angel, definitely an angel. So angelic that I don’t even know who he is! What the hell is going on? Could someone really have a crush on me? Then just confess to my face! What’s the point of secretly sending gifts and calling himself my husband! My mind was a mess, and I shoved the lipsticks into my drawer. Lina looked at me strangely: “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you happy at all about receiving a gift? Did you fight with your husband?” I smiled awkwardly. Lina took it as my confirmation: “No wonder he’s sending you gifts these past couple of days. Geez, with such a generous husband, why would you fight with him?” I didn’t speak. I silently memorized the tracking number on the delivery box, then found the online store and contacted customer service. The reply I got was: [This order was placed anonymously, so we can’t provide the information.] Can online shopping even be anonymous? I was pondering this question. Suddenly, the receptionist called me again. “Laura, come get your flowers!”

Flowers? What flowers? I blankly stood up and walked over. The delivery guy was holding a huge bouquet. “Are you Ms. Laura? These are the flowers your husband sent you.” I froze on the spot. By the time I reacted, the delivery guy was already walking away. I hurriedly chased after him and called out to stop him. “Excuse me, who placed the order for the flowers?” The delivery guy gave me a weird look: “Your husband.” I shook my head: “I mean, can I see the buyer’s account?” The delivery guy didn’t understand but did it anyway, taking out his phone to show me the chat history for his order. As expected, the other party’s account page was completely blank. “This bouquet is two thousand bucks. Minus the delivery fee, your husband even gave me an extra thousand as a tip.” The delivery guy was smiling so wide his eyes disappeared: “Miss Laura, your husband is really good to you, so generous.” I stiffly handed the phone back to him and forced a stiff smile. Back at the company, my coworkers all gathered around. “Such a big bouquet, it must’ve cost thousands, right?” “That’s nothing. Laura’s husband bought a five-thousand-dollar dress without blinking!” “Hey, there’s a card on the flowers, what does it say?” Only then did I see that card. [Honey, don’t be mad anymore.] Seeing this line clearly, my hand trembled, and I almost threw the flowers. A few coworkers teased: “Laura, with such a great husband, how could you bear to fight with him?” “I’m crying from envy, I want a husband this good too!” “His apology is so sincere, just forgive him.” They were all talking at once, and I couldn’t take in a single word. Instead, I glanced at Lina. The dress, the lipstick—only Lina knew I had said those things. Even the moment I just mentioned in front of her that I fought with my “husband,” a bouquet was immediately delivered, telling me not to be mad. Could she have found out I didn’t actually have a husband and was playing a prank? But these things weren’t cheap. It didn’t seem like she’d spend that much money. I couldn’t figure it out; I didn’t have a clue. My mind was in chaos, so after work, I went to see my grandpa. Grandpa cooked a big table of food for me, and I affectionately linked my arm with his, acting spoiled. Suddenly, I noticed he wasn’t wearing his hearing aid. “Grandpa, where’s your hearing aid?” Grandpa was very hard of hearing, and it took him a while to understand what I said. “That thing? I accidentally dropped it in the river while fishing yesterday! “It’s no big deal, no big deal!” How could it be no big deal? I immediately searched online for hearing aids, researching which one was the best. “Just buy a cheap one, don’t waste money,” Grandpa said beside me. I didn’t go back that night and just stayed over. Early the next morning, a knock on the door woke me up. I walked out of the room bleary-eyed and saw Grandpa opening the door. Outside was a delivery guy. “Hello, please sign for this.” Grandpa glanced at the package and froze. “Where did you buy this? It arrived so fast!” I instantly woke up and hurried over. Looking closely, what the delivery guy was holding was exactly a hearing aid. But I hadn’t even placed the order yet! Instantly, goosebumps broke out all over my body.

“Hello, which one of you will sign for it?” The delivery guy said again. Grandpa was about to sign, but I quickly said: “Um, I think I bought the wrong one. Sorry, I need to reject this.” This was for Grandpa. I didn’t dare to just accept it. What if it was dangerous? While rejecting it, I caught a glimpse of a familiar card attached to the box. [Of course, we have to give Grandpa the best. — Laura’s Husband] My hand trembled in fright. After sending the delivery guy away, I took half a day off from the company and took Grandpa to a physical store to buy a hearing aid. Then I exhorted Grandpa repeatedly. “Grandpa, if you receive any packages recently, you must ask me immediately.” Although Grandpa didn’t quite understand, he listened to me well. When I went to work in the afternoon, I was a complete mess. Who exactly was this person, to even know my grandpa’s address? More importantly, only Grandpa and I knew I was planning to buy a hearing aid! I had only searched for hearing aids online the night before. And it was delivered to the door early in the morning? No matter how I thought about it, it was absurd. Could it be… I looked down at my phone. Could someone have installed something on my phone and was monitoring me? Thinking it over and over, this was the only possibility. So as soon as I got off work, I went to buy a new phone, formatted the old one, and sold it secondhand. Spending two large sums of money in one day made my heart ache. But what gave me peace of mind was that I didn’t receive any more gifts for the next several days. I had just breathed a sigh of relief, but that night, I had a strange dream. In the dream, an unfamiliar man said to me with a wronged look: “Honey, you don’t wear the clothes I gave you, you don’t use the lipstick, and you even refused Grandpa’s hearing aid. “Are you sick of me, or do you just not want gifts? “It’s your birthday, so how about I give you money? You can buy whatever you want yourself.” I woke up from the dream in shock, my heart almost leaping out of my chest. Today was indeed my birthday. But what kind of messy dream was that? The alarm went off right then. I patted my head to forget about it and got up for work. Sitting at my desk, I was munching on bread and rushing a proposal when my phone suddenly vibrated. I clicked it open and instantly widened my eyes. Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands… One million! My card had received a deposit of one million! I thought it was someone’s prank, but when I clicked into the account page, there was indeed an extra one million. Remark: [Honey, happy birthday.] What was this situation? “How about I give you money? You can buy whatever you want yourself.” The words from the dream surfaced in my mind. I sat frozen in my seat, feeling my worldview collapse. “Laura? What’s wrong?” Seeing me not even blinking, Lina nudged me. I quickly put the phone face down: “No, nothing.” Oh my god, what the hell is going on?! Where did this one million come from? Don’t tell me I actually have a husband, but I just don’t remember? “By the way, Laura, I saw it marked on your desk calendar that today is your birthday. How are you planning to celebrate?” Lina asked casually beside me. I quietly picked up my phone and took another look at the account balance. I had never used anything that “husband” sent. Were these things real? For example, could this one million be used? I took a deep breath. “Everyone, today is my birthday. I’m treating you all to dinner.” Hearing my words, my coworkers started to cheer. Someone even asked: “Laura, aren’t you spending your birthday with your husband?” I made up an excuse: “He’s on a business trip recently.” Then I sent a restaurant address in the SnapChat group. Lina said in shock: “Laura, you’re treating us to something this expensive?!” I smiled and didn’t speak. But I was still a bit worried. What if this money couldn’t be spent?

As it turned out, my worries were unnecessary. Watching me pay a bill of over fifteen thousand without blinking, my coworkers were dumbfounded. “Laura, what exactly does your husband do? He’s so rich!” “You really hid it well, I really couldn’t tell before.” “Alright, alright, let Laura make a wish first!” Lina ordered a cake and put a birthday hat on me. The candles were lit, and I closed my eyes. Thinking of the bizarre experiences lately, I suddenly had an absurd thought. Could it be that I have superpowers and whatever I want, I get? Then I might as well try something big. Thinking this, I chanted silently in my heart. I want lots and lots of money! Then I opened my eyes and blew out the candles. When I went home at night, after washing up and lying in bed, I saw an unread message. I sat up with a whoosh, clenched my fists, and clicked on that message. I saw that another sum of money had been credited to my card, and the string of numbers was even longer than the one from the morning. My heart pounding, I counted the zeros. It was actually one hundred million! Remark: [I will give you lots and lots of money.] It was too incredible… I got out of bed and walked in circles several times, feeling like I was dreaming. Did I really have the superpower to make wishes come true? But this wasn’t scientific. After calming down, I still felt something was wrong. With such a huge income, would I be targeted by the police? Getting rich overnight, would I be targeted by bad guys? Even though the feeling of having money was great. But I really didn’t dare to spend this money. Thinking it over, I decided to go to the police tomorrow. If the police could trace the source of the money, that would be for the best. If they couldn’t, at least there would be a record. Right, just like that! I took a few deep breaths and comforted myself. Lying back on the bed, I prepared to put down my phone and sleep. Suddenly, my hand slipped, and I opened the photo album. Then, I violently sat up once again. Because in my photo album, a few photos I had never seen had appeared out of nowhere. They were even photos of me and an unfamiliar man together! And this man looked exactly like the face in my dream! I was terrified and frantically turned on the light. It was practically a ghost! I had no impression of these photos at all, and I was sure I didn’t know this man. Unless the photos were AI. But I had just changed to a new phone. Was the new phone being monitored too? No matter what, I absolutely had to go report this to the police. I left the light on all night and didn’t dare to sleep. As soon as it was dawn, I took a cab to the police station. “Hello, has something happened to you?” It was too early, plus my complexion was abnormal. The duty officer became alert and poured me a glass of water. I swallowed. “Officer, photos of a strange man suddenly appeared on my phone, and… I also received a huge sum of money from an unknown source.” The officer frowned and asked, “Money from an unknown source? How much?” “One hundred million… no, one million, plus one hundred million.” “One hundred million?!” The officer jumped in shock and yelled. “Officer Sam, what are you getting so startled about? What one hundred million?” Another police officer asked from a distance. And I froze for a moment. Officer Sam? …I slowly looked up and saw his face. Suddenly, my mind exploded. I knew! I knew what was going on! While feeling excited, I had a severe headache. Then my vision became more and more blurry until I lost consciousness…

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For three years, my boyfriend Arthur had repeatedly suggested we live together, and I’d always declined. Now that we were engaged, I asked him if he wanted to move in. But he said: “It’s not really convenient. There’s a woman living at my place.” I froze. “What?” He sighed, a frustrated sound. “You’re not even willing to satisfy my most basic intimate needs. What am I supposed to do?” “I’m not a saint. If you can’t give it to me, I’ll find another woman.” “She’s just a casual arrangement. I pay her daily, and she takes care of my needs.” “You’re completely inexperienced in this area. Maybe you can talk to her; she knows all my preferred positions…” Seeing my silence, he continued: “Learn well, and I’ll see what kind of surprise you can give me on our wedding night.” Faced with such a shameless demand, I pulled out my phone and quickly sent a message to the wedding planner: [Wedding canceled.] I hadn’t told him that I’d bought the spacious condo he’d been eyeing. To surprise him, I’d spent the last year working tirelessly, securing several major clients and crushing two years of company KPIs into a single one. As soon as I received my bonus, I bought the apartment. I’d even secretly spent almost six months renovating it, all without his knowledge. This week, I’d meticulously decorated the bedroom, just waiting for today, when he and I would move in together. It was meant to celebrate our upcoming new chapter in life. I even had the agreement to add his name to the property deed ready, just waiting for us to get married. Thinking back to how I’d just asked to move in together, Arthur put an arm around my waist: “How about you buy a maid outfit? I’d love that!” I subtly shifted my body, avoiding his touch. Arthur didn’t notice at all; instead, he excitedly pulled out his phone: “I also like nurse uniforms. Can you get both?” “Look at Eve’s uniform temptation – isn’t it absolutely divine?” I stared intently as he opened a secret photo album on his phone, an album I’d never seen before. Inside, it was filled with countless photos of that girl named Eve. Maid outfits, nurse uniforms, sailor uniforms… Everything imaginable. Even I, a woman, felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Let alone Arthur, a hot-blooded man. But for some reason, I felt like this woman looked familiar. As if I’d seen her somewhere before. Before I could think it through, Arthur’s gulping sound interrupted my thoughts. To cover his awkwardness, he continued to scroll through their intimate photos. All of them were taken after he’d told me “goodnight.” It was laughable that I used to think it was incredibly self-disciplined for a grown man to go to bed early and wake up early every day. I’d even secretly rejoiced at finding a man who shared my routine. But I never imagined his night life was so rich. So rich that for three years of our relationship, he was cheating with other women every single night. He even kindly explained the bizarre sex toys in the photos that I’d never seen before: “Karen, these are game-changers! When Eve’s on her period, we just switch things up.” “Let me tell you, women, they should be classy during the day, and wild in bed at night.” His phone suddenly vibrated. A payment alert popped up. Only then did I realize that the $10,000 monthly salary he’d told me about was a lie. He nervously swiped away the $32,000 payment notification and rubbed his nose:

“Um, Karen, listen to me. Eve was a virgin when she started with me, $800 a night, a total steal.” “I found her for your own good, too. You have no idea how many diseases you can catch from streetwalkers; you could easily get an STD.” “But Eve is different. She’s a clean girl I carefully selected. She’s not only diligent and eager to learn, but also thoughtful and understanding. When we get married, she’ll move out on her own.” $800 a night, without a single day off. That meant at least $24,000 spent on Eve each month. No wonder he always told me his salary wasn’t enough, and he couldn’t afford a bigger apartment. Turns out, it was all going to other women. After three years of cheating like this, he actually had the audacity to claim he was “clean.” He once swore to my mom: “Don’t worry! I’ll cherish Karen, love and protect her, and work hard to give her the best of everything!” Yet the total amount he spent on me each month was less than a fraction of what he paid Eve. I looked at the familiar face before me, unable to believe this was the man I’d loved for three years. I loved him purely for who he was, for how he treated me, for his self-discipline and clean living, and for respecting my wish to not have sex before marriage. I thought that because he accepted no premarital sex, he would never betray me. But I never imagined that he had been betraying me since the first time I refused sex. Thankfully, it wasn’t too late. To show his apology, Arthur transferred his entire paycheck to me. I almost clicked ‘decline.’ But then he gave me a number. “We’re getting married soon; you should start seriously learning some essential bedroom skills.” “This is Eve’s SnapChat. Add her, and learn from her.” “Once you’ve mastered various sex techniques, I’ll hand over all my salary!” “I’m really looking forward to your surprise!” Before I could refuse, he had already called Eve, suggesting they have dinner together. It wasn’t until we arrived at the restaurant that I truly realized he wanted the three of us to eat together. His objective was for me to learn from Eve how to please him. I immediately exploded: “Arthur, do I look like some cheap tramp to you? If she wants to sell herself, that’s her business, but don’t you dare bring that trash near me!” He, however, became even angrier, frowning in disbelief: “What? I’m giving you money to learn how to please me, and you’re refusing?” “Eve’s even willing to teach you for free. You should be paying for this dinner, and you’re cursing at me?” Eve, with her ‘no-makeup makeup’ and innocent look, quickly reached out to smooth the frown between his eyebrows. She started soothing him in a sweet, soft voice: “Arthur, don’t be so harsh on Karen! It’s normal for her to be a bit reserved at first. You need to be more patient with her, just like you guided me in the beginning…” Those loaded words made Arthur’s face turn crimson. Just as I thought he was about to kiss Eve, he suddenly ushered her out of the private room. A wave of unease washed over me, and I wanted to leave too. But Arthur grabbed my hand: “Karen, I can’t wait any longer. Can we?” Sensing his unusual arousal, I angrily picked up the iced soda from the table and dumped it right over his head. To my surprise, he just chuckled playfully: “Karen, are you shy? Or, are you jealous?”

“And you know what? You’re actually pretty cute when you’re jealous!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I raised my hand and slapped him. “Jealous? Hell no! I must have been out of my mind to ever fall for a disgusting jerk like you! You’re trash! We’re done!” Arthur covered his rapidly reddening, swollen face, but instead of anger, his eyes filled with excitement: “That’s a strong slap. Even better than Eve’s! It really gets me going!” Hearing his vulgar words, my stomach churned. Seeing me keep dry heaving, Arthur stopped joking around and looked at me with concern: “Karen, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? I’ll take you to the hospital right away!” I pushed him away: “Get lost!” “Don’t touch me!” Only then did he understand that I was repulsed by him. He looked at me with a pained expression, his eyes turning red: “Karen, don’t you love me anymore?” “I’m willing to tell you all my secrets. Why don’t you believe me?” As if remembering something, he immediately booked an appointment at a hospital. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll go get a blood test right now! I guarantee I’m completely clean!” He actually thought that as long as he didn’t have an STD, he was “clean.” How ridiculous! I took a deep breath and told him, word for word: “Arthur, in my eyes, you are absolutely filthy!” He froze, his eyes wide, and swore to the heavens: “Eve is an innocent college girl, clean and obedient. I couldn’t possibly be dirty.” I quickly refunded the $3,200. “Whether you’re dirty or not, it has nothing to do with me anymore! You and I, we’re completely done from now on!” Seeing that I wouldn’t even take the money and was determined to break up with him, a sudden panic gripped him. He grabbed my arm and rushed out of the private room, telling Eve, who was waiting at the door, to come to the hospital with us. All the way there, he and Eve swore oaths together: “Karen, once the blood test results are out, you’ll know I wasn’t lying to you.” At the hospital, he frantically urged Eve to get her blood drawn with him. But unexpectedly, Eve fainted before she even got to the blood draw station. Arthur instinctively caught her in his arms and rushed her to the emergency room. Half an hour later, the doctor came out with the test results and congratulated him: “Sir, your girlfriend is pregnant. Congratulations, you’re going to be a father!” Arthur froze, looking at me with panic: “Karen, listen to me. The doctor must have made a mistake! I always used protection; there’s no way…” The doctor looked at him, then at me, and instantly understood that the story of the three of us wasn’t simple. She gave me a sympathetic glance before coldly addressing Arthur: “Mr. Arthur, a urine test can sometimes be inaccurate, but a blood test won’t lie.” Arthur’s lips trembled as he reached out to grab me. I raised my hand and slapped him across the other side of his face: “Scumbag!” “We’re done!” Arthur took the slap, lowering his head to apologize: “Karen, give me ten minutes. I’ll fix everything right now.” He took a deep breath, looked up, and asked the doctor to schedule an abortion, then walked into the emergency room. Moments later, I heard Eve’s cries from the room: “Arthur, I don’t want your money, no matter how much you give me…” How Arthur chose to deal with that child was no longer my concern. I picked up my bag and headed straight home. But unexpectedly, as soon as I lay down, the doorbell rang. “Karen, I want to keep this baby.” “Please… please don’t force me to have an abortion…”

Hearing Eve’s cries, I simply pretended I couldn’t hear. But she cried even louder, drawing the attention of the neighbors. And when they pressed her for answers, she shamelessly claimed I was her sister, forcing her to get an abortion. The unsuspecting neighbors immediately started banging wildly on my door for her. I was furious. I opened the door, ready to kick them out. Only to find her kneeling on the ground. “Karen, I truly love Arthur. Please don’t break us up, okay?” I pulled out my phone, intending to show the neighbors my photos with Arthur. But Eve, with no shame, directly showed them intimate photos of herself and Arthur. Compared to my tasteful photos with Arthur from various public events, Eve’s intimate shots were clearly more convincing. Most importantly, in the background of her photos, there was Arthur’s family picture. Anyone could see they were living together. The neighbors looked at me with disdain: “Stealing your sister’s man, are you shameless?” “What right do you have to force someone to abort their baby?” “We’re watching you today. Let’s see if you dare to act arrogant!” I couldn’t stand it anymore and called Arthur. He arrived quickly. Seeing Eve kneeling before me, his face immediately darkened. He rushed over, pulled her up, and cradled her in his arms, immediately checking her all over. When he saw her knees were red and swollen, he immediately started yelling at me: “Karen! You’ve gone too far!” “Why are you doing this to Eve?” The neighbors added fuel to the fire, exaggerating how I’d bullied Eve. My vision blurred with rage, but I forcefully held it in and coldly asked Arthur: “Tell everyone, before today, whose boyfriend were you?” Arthur’s gaze swept over the staring neighbors but lingered on my face, full of hesitation. But it didn’t stop him from speaking: “I am Eve’s boyfriend.” “You have no right to force her to abort our child.” At his words, Eve’s tear-filled eyes showed a hint of triumph and provocation. “Arthur, don’t blame her. I know she just loves you too much, and my kneeling wasn’t sincere enough…” Hearing Arthur’s direct admission, an angry neighbor went back inside and grabbed a tray of eggs, forcefully throwing them at me. The eggs shattered on my forehead, face, and clothes, making me feel nauseous from the stench. Eve quickly raised her hand to stop the others who were still condemning me: “Everyone, please don’t make things difficult for my sister. She has her own difficulties.” With that, she tugged on Arthur’s sleeve: “Let’s go inside and talk, Arthur. Don’t make things hard for my sister.” Arthur, without a word, scooped Eve up bridal style and pushed his way into my apartment. The neighbors wanted more drama, but Arthur apologized to the crowd: “It’s a family matter, and we appreciate your discretion!” Arthur discreetly handed some cash to a few of the louder ones, and the crowd quieted, though before leaving, several spat viciously in my direction. I looked up at the security camera overhead, for now swallowing all the bitterness. Inside, I ignored the two clinging to each other and went straight to wash the grime off my face. Then I pulled out my phone to call the police. Before I could speak, Arthur snatched my phone and smashed it on the floor: “Karen! Haven’t you caused enough embarrassment? Are you not ashamed?” “I told you I’d handle everything. Why are you forcing Eve?” I retorted with a sneer: “I’m forcing her?” He immediately pulled out his phone and showed me a screenshot of a message Eve had sent him. “You threatened to expose her dirty secrets, making her lose her college degree. How could you become so malicious?” I looked at the anonymous text and found it laughable. No wonder he arrived so quickly; it was Eve’s setup.

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After Caleb Miller left in the middle of the night again for his former fated mate, I learned one thing: to stop caring. He’d go thirty hours without replying while on night patrol, and I wouldn’t wait anymore. He’d forget my birthday, and I wouldn’t bring it up. When an enemy bit my ankle, I’d grit my teeth, bandage it myself, and continue combat training. Loving someone is hard, but letting go is simple. Joanna Bennett POV Today was the public combat exhibition at the Full Moon Ceremony. The third act involved a high-difficulty combat combo. The moment I landed the ninth move, a searing pain shot through the old wound in my ankle. A crowd gathered at the edge of the training field. “Joanna! Should we stop?” My forehead instantly beaded with cold sweat, and my vision briefly blurred. The ankle wound was from three days ago, a fierce bite from an attacker during a skirmish. The doctor said the wound contained a unique toxin that was hard to remove immediately, and that I should rest, but I hadn’t listened. Gritting my teeth, I waved them off. “It’s the last act.” I don’t remember how I managed to get through eight minutes of solo demonstration. I only remember the loud applause at the end, the bonfire’s light flickering in my blurred vision, and dark red blood seeping through the bandage on my ankle. I smiled and bowed three times. No one saw me shaking all over from the pain as I walked off the stage, almost needing to lean against the wall to stand steady. One A.M., at the pack hospital. I sat alone on a plastic chair in the observation room, applying special herbal medicine. The doctor’s brows furrowed tightly. “The wound toxin wasn’t completely removed, which is why it split open. Why did you wait until now to come?” “I just finished the exhibition,” my voice was a little hoarse. While recording my information, the doctor glanced at my pale face and casually asked, “You’re Caleb Miller’s girlfriend, aren’t you? Many people saw you two together, maybe five days ago?” My eyelashes fluttered. Caleb Miller, son of Frostveil Pack’s Alpha. And my boyfriend. We had indeed been together five days ago; he’d asked me out on a date. But the next day, I waited five hours at the restaurant we’d booked, only to receive a text saying, “Something came up, we’ll reschedule.” That “reschedule” never came. “Do you want me to call him over for you? I saw them finish their patrol,” the doctor kindly offered. “No need,” I said. “Don’t disturb his work.” No sooner had I spoken than footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. Caleb came downstairs and paused as he passed the observation room. He turned and walked in, his gaze falling on my ankle, and his brows immediately furrowed. “You’re hurt again? Why didn’t you tell me?” He crouched down, his disapproval evident. I pulled my foot back. “It’s just a small injury.” Caleb’s hand froze in mid-air, looking at me in surprise. Before, if I even scraped my skin during training, I’d take a picture and send it to him, whining, “My wound hurts so much, I miss you.” Before every important mission, I’d nervously burrow into his arms, repeatedly asking, “You’ll be by my side, right?” Now, with old wounds tearing open and new ones piling on, there wasn’t a trace of complaint on my face. I wouldn’t even let him touch me. Before he could ask, footsteps sounded from the end of the hallway. “Caleb!” The voice was soft and gentle, with a hint of laughter. Chloe walked over, carrying two hot drinks, and naturally stood beside Caleb. “Your favorite mocha, light on sugar and milk.” She handed him a cup, then her gaze shifted to me, pausing for a beat. “This is… your friend?” Caleb took the hot drink, his voice unconsciously softening by half a degree. “My girlfriend, Joanna Bennett. She hurt her foot.” “Oh my goodness, is it serious?” Chloe immediately crouched down to look at my ankle. “Hi, I’m Chloe Davis. You really can’t do any high-intensity training with this injury, you need to rest.” Her tone was sincere. The fleeting hint of disdain in her eyes was also sincere. Chloe, I knew her too. She had some Alpha blood, making her a strong fighter. She was also Caleb’s ex; they were once fated mates, but Chloe chose to go abroad to a werewolf academy for five years. They had differing opinions, so they held a rejection ceremony. Five years later, she was back, and Caleb still prioritized her. Maybe they truly were the right partners, and they would always find their way back to each other. And I was just an interlude during those five years, nothing significant. “Thanks,” I said. “The doctor already treated it.” As Chloe stood up, her shoulder brushed against Caleb’s arm. “Caleb, you still have patrol tonight, I’ll go with you.” “Okay.” Caleb seemed not to notice her familiarity. He looked at me. “I’ll take you home first.” “No need.” I pushed myself up using the armrest. The herbs had been applied to the wound, removing some of the remaining toxins. But it still wasn’t healed, so I had to use crutches for now. Caleb frowned. “How can you—” But I was already walking away. The crutches tapped against the ground, one steady rhythm after another. Chloe’s voice drifted from behind me, clear even across the entire hallway. “Caleb, did she misunderstand something? Should I go explain it to her?” “She’s not like that,” Caleb’s voice held a hint of helplessness. I didn’t look back. For five years, I never made a fuss, never questioned, never chased after answers. I thought that by being understanding and considerate, I would earn Caleb’s attention, but instead, I got his neglect. I had thought about texting him on the way to the hospital. But when I opened my phone, I saw a message I’d sent three days ago. “Full Moon Exhibition today, I have a solo combat demonstration. Will you come?” He hadn’t replied. I knew it wasn’t that he forgot; he just didn’t want to reply. In his life’s priorities, I ranked after the pack, after his missions, after that hot drink with light sugar and milk. And definitely after Chloe. It had always been that way. Back home, I pulled open the study drawer. The invitation from the Shadow Fang Pack lay quietly inside; I had read it many times. [We sincerely invite you to join the Shadow Fang Pack as a Warrior Trainer.] My thumb traced the gilded totem on the paper. I remembered how easily he took the hot drink Chloe offered at the hospital, how his tone unconsciously softened when he spoke to her, and how he hadn’t even asked if I was hurting when I got injured that day. Five years. I had waited for countless “reschedules,” for countless “something came up” excuses. I didn’t want to wait anymore. I found a piece of letter paper and personally wrote a reply: [Thank you for the invitation, I accept. I will report for duty within seven days. – Joanna Bennett]

Joanna Bennett POV That night, a stinging pain radiated from my ankle wound, throbbing beneath my skin. The painkillers the doctor gave me weren’t doing much. My wolf was growling restlessly, helpless. I didn’t know where those attackers had gotten such a toxin. I didn’t sleep all night. Caleb didn’t come home all night. At seven in the morning, I hobbled into the kitchen on my crutches. As I was chopping vegetables, I suddenly thought of my mom. I rarely saw her either. She was a powerful werewolf warrior, responsible for protecting our Luna, her schedule always packed. Even on her rare days off, she was often called back for urgent tasks. Since childhood, I’d been used to eating alone, sleeping alone, and going to school with my keys hanging around my neck. But every time my mom came home, she would be busy in the kitchen for a long time, preparing meals for the next few days, arranging them in containers in the fridge, with sticky notes on the lids: “Eat this on Tuesday,” “Remember to heat this box for two minutes.” Later, she had an accident during an attack, suffering severe injuries while saving the Luna. From falling down to passing away, it was only eleven hours. At nineteen, I stood before her body, my mind a blank. I don’t remember my reaction then, only that my knees hurt when they hit the floor tiles, and I cried until I couldn’t breathe, feeling like all the strength had been drained from me. Pack members stood around, but no one approached at that moment. Suddenly, someone crouched down in front of me. A warm drink was handed to me, still carrying the warmth of a hand. I looked up and saw a young face with gentle eyes. “Don’t cry,” he said, his voice soft. “Your mother was a great warrior, she protected all of us. Even though she’s gone, we’ll all remember her.” Through a veil of tears, I saw his face: Caleb Miller. The Alpha’s son. I didn’t drink that bottle of soda, but I held it in my hands until it was completely cold. From that day on, I remembered him and those gentle eyes. The second time I saw him was two years later. It was my final graduation exam at the training grounds. The sky was already dark when the mission ended, making it hard to see my surroundings, but as I was checking in, I unintentionally glanced towards the assembly point and saw a familiar figure standing in the corner. He stood there quietly, wearing a dark blue uniform, applauding without much enthusiasm, but very earnestly. Afterward, I didn’t change, but ran out of the training grounds clutching a bouquet of pink roses, stopping him at the entrance. “Caleb Miller, can I pursue you?” He looked at me, clearly stunned for a moment. Then he smiled, a gentle smile that held a weariness I didn’t understand at the time. “I just lost my fated mate. I’m… not over it yet.” I knew he was rejecting me. But the warmth of that drink was still in my heart, and those ten minutes of companionship were still in my memory. I so desperately wanted that kind of gentle love, unique, a favoritism meant only for me. Growing up, with my father’s early death and my mother’s passing, I had never been looked at with such focused attention. He appeared at my most helpless moment; even just a bottle of soda and a word of comfort felt like a beacon of light to me. “It’s okay,” I heard myself say. “I can help you get through it, slowly.” I thought that if I was patient and sincere enough, he would eventually turn and see me. In the five years we were together, Caleb was indeed good to me. He would train with me, go on missions with me, and take me to the doctor if I was injured. But that kindness always felt veiled. Gentle, yes, but never passionate. He smiled at me, but also at every pack member. I couldn’t tell if I was special to him or just one among many. I convinced myself it was enough. Being loved by a gentle person was enough. On his birthday, I felt our relationship should move to the next stage. I booked his favorite restaurant, prepared a ring, and decorated with roses. That evening, as I was rehearsing what to say in front of the mirror, my phone rang. Caleb’s voice was urgent: “Chloe Davis is back, and she’s injured. I’m going to the hospital first; wait for me at the restaurant.” The call ended. The ring was in my pocket, and I waited five hours at the restaurant. He didn’t come, nor did he call. From that day on, everything changed. During the time Chloe was back, whenever she called, Caleb would immediately rush over, no matter what he was doing. He started coming home late frequently, becoming absent-minded, and there was something in his eyes when he spoke of Chloe that I had never seen before. I told myself that once Chloe recovered, perhaps everything would return to normal. Until that late night. I got up to retrieve something from the study and accidentally knocked over an old photo album from a corner of the bookshelf. The album fell to the floor, scattering its contents. Every page featured Chloe. Some were candid shots, some were posed together. The backgrounds ranged from training grounds to hospitals, from summer to winter. And on the back of every photo, Caleb’s handwriting. “Day 47.” “Missing you.” “A new recruit shares your birthday today.” I crouched on the floor, turning page after page, my fingers not trembling. The date on the last photo was a week before our fifth anniversary. On the back, it read: “If you hadn’t left then, I would never have let go.” I closed the album and placed it back in the corner of the bookshelf, neatly arranged, exactly as it had been before I took it down.

Joanna Bennett POV I went to the training field despite my injury. My ankle was thickly bandaged; I didn’t participate, only supervised training all day from the sidelines. Someone asked if I wanted to take the day off, but I said no, sitting there was still work. I returned home at 8 PM; the entryway light was off. Only my shoes were on the shoe rack, and there were no messages from him on my phone. Another day and night he hadn’t come home. I was pouring water when I received Alpha Leo’s mind link. “Have you really decided to leave?” he asked me. “Yes. I… I want to go somewhere I can better utilize my abilities.” In the Frostveil Pack, I seemed destined to be just a squad leader. Because the pack’s Beta and Delta held considerable influence, it was difficult for me to surpass their positions. “More than that, we want you to be safe,” Alpha Leo said. “That’s also why we didn’t arrange for you to inherit your mother’s position; we couldn’t let her only daughter continue to face danger.” I was silent for a moment, then genuinely said, “Thank you, Alpha Leo. Even if I leave the pack, I will always love you and Luna Elena.” Alpha Leo sighed. “Alright, gather your documents. Beta Cole will arrange everything for your departure.” Ending the conversation, I walked into the bedroom. I opened the bedside table: identification, bank cards, and some documents related to the squad I managed. And, of course, the investigation into the attackers’ identity… I placed the documents one by one into a folder. Mid-packing, I suddenly paused and scanned the room. Caleb had a slight obsession with cleanliness; he disliked having too many cluttered items at home. When I first moved in, I bought a floor lamp, but he said it didn’t match, so I returned it. Later, I wanted to grow flowers on the balcony, but he said it would attract bugs, so I didn’t. Over five years, I had learned to curb my presence in this home. Only now, as I packed, did I realize how few of my belongings there were, not even enough to fill one suitcase. A few changes of seasonal clothes, a pair of spare combat boots, a jewelry box, identification documents, and some files from when I became a patrol squad leader. That was all. Five years, condensed into half a suitcase. The bedroom door suddenly opened. Caleb walked in, pausing when he saw the scattered documents on the bed. “What are you busy with?” “Organizing some materials,” I said, not looking up. “I thought we could travel together for Christmas, so I’m preparing in advance.” “Christmas?” Caleb glanced at me. “It’s only July—” He was cut off by his phone ringing. Chloe’s name lit up the screen. “Caleb, I’m not very familiar with tonight’s patrol route, can you come help me?” The voice on the other end wasn’t loud, but in the quiet room, it was clearly audible. Caleb hung up and looked at me, his lips moving. He looked guilty, yet he couldn’t put Chloe aside. “Go,” I said, folding a document and slipping it into a bag. “Work is important.” Caleb stood still, his brows furrowed, perhaps sensing something was off. If it had been the old me, I would have frowned and said, “She’s a werewolf warrior too, why can’t she handle such a small thing?” “There are so many warriors in the pack, why does she always call you?” But this time, I said nothing. My eyes didn’t even leave the documents. “I might not be back tonight,” he said. “Dinner together tomorrow morning?” “Okay.” Caleb left, relieved. The door closed softly. Listening to his footsteps fade, I packed all the remaining materials into the folder and sealed it.

Joanna Bennett POV I woke up the next day to a cold pillow. I picked up my phone and saw a message, sent at three A.M. [Last night was an emergency. Couldn’t make it back this morning. I’m sorry.] I looked at it for two seconds, then locked the screen. The apology was real, and so was his inability to return. There were always so many things ahead of me, so many that “I’m sorry” had become a common phrase. After training that evening, I carried my bag home. As I changed shoes in the entryway, I heard voices in the living room. I walked in and saw Chloe sitting on the sofa, wearing loose loungewear, with a suitcase at her feet. Caleb stood beside her, his expression tightening the moment he saw me. “Chloe… she’s not quite settled since she came back, she always has trouble sleeping alone,” he fumbled for his words. “She lost touch with her pack friends during her years abroad, and now I’m the person she’s closest to. I thought I’d let her stay in the guest room for a few days, until she adjusts, then—” “Okay.” I put down my bag. Caleb tensed all over, his lips slightly parted, as if he was scrambling for excuses in his mind. But I agreed too quickly, so quickly that the expression on his face instantly froze, like he’d choked on cold air, unable to utter a single word. Chloe stood up from the sofa, her voice soft. “Caleb, can I invite a few friends over for dinner? A welcome home party for me. I’d feel more at ease if you arranged it.” Caleb hadn’t answered yet when I spoke. “Sure, I’ll prepare it.” Chloe smiled, a fleeting flash of triumph in her eyes. That evening, Chloe’s invited friends arrived one after another. They were all Caleb’s old friends, along with some members from other packs who had attended school with them. The living room quickly grew lively, everyone gathered around Chloe. They talked about her experiences, how she’d gotten thinner, how she was still as beautiful as ever. I was in the kitchen, cutting fruit, pouring drinks, and changing plates. I entered and exited the living room many times; no one asked if I wanted to sit down and chat with them. After a few rounds of drinks, someone, a little drunk, slung an arm around Caleb’s shoulder. “I say, Caleb, if you and Chloe hadn’t broken up back then, you’d probably have kids by now, right? Hahahaha—” The living room fell silent for an instant. Caleb’s face changed, and he sharply looked at me. I was coming out of the kitchen, carrying a platter of sliced watermelon. I placed the platter on the coffee table and smiled. “Yeah, what a shame.” My tone was light, like commenting on a movie. But no one dared to speak again. The man awkwardly drank his drink, and it took a while for the atmosphere to ease. Caleb stared at my profile for a long time. I was smiling. But there was nothing in that smile. No jealousy, no resentment, not even a trace of caring. Like an outsider hosting guests. After the dinner broke up, I was washing dishes in the kitchen. Chloe leaned against the doorframe. “Joanna, do you know that Caleb and I are fated mates?” The water faucet ran. My hands didn’t stop. “The Mating Ceremony was all planned,” Chloe said loudly. “I was the one who broke up with him. I wanted to go abroad, he begged me to stay, but I refused.” I turned off the faucet and placed the last plate in the rack. I turned around, drying my hands, and looked at Chloe. “So?” Chloe met my gaze, her smile confident, even carrying a hint of pity. “So I’m back.” She took a step forward. “This spot in this home is mine; it’s time for you, the replacement, to make your exit.” The kitchen was silent for a few seconds. I folded the hand towel and hung it back on the hook. “You’re right,” I said. “It is time for me to make my exit.” Chloe’s smile stiffened. “Joanna Bennett, you’d better understand your place. You’re just an orphan with no family, you—”

Joanna Bennett POV I cut her off. “Chloe, we’re all adults here. You can’t let go of Caleb, you can go after him, but there’s no need to put me down.” Chloe looked furious. I didn’t look at her again and walked out. In the living room, Caleb had just returned from seeing off his friends and bumped into me. He glanced at the kitchen, then at my face. “They had a bit too much to drink earlier, those things they said… don’t take them to heart.” I looked at him, silent for a few seconds. “Caleb Miller, I saw the photo album on your bookshelf.” The air in the living room seemed to solidify. “Every single one was Chloe, and on the back of each one were your words.” My voice was steady. “‘Day 47, missing you.’ ‘If you came back, I would never let go again.’” Caleb looked flustered, trying to grab my wrist, but I pulled away. “Joanna, let me explain, that was just—” “No need to explain.” I cut him off. Caleb stubbornly grabbed my hand. “Joanna,” his voice tightened, “Let’s talk—” “Caleb!” Chloe came out of the kitchen, holding up her hand, her voice urgent. “I accidentally cut my finger just now, it’s bleeding a lot. Quick, help me look, will it affect me doing missions later?” Blood was oozing from between her fingers. Caleb immediately released my wrist and strode towards Chloe. I stood there, looking down at my released wrist. A red mark remained, but it would soon fade. Just like all my traces of him. I glanced at the two of them, then turned and walked upstairs. My ankle injury still hadn’t healed; the bandage was wrapped tightly, and I had to lean heavily on the banister to climb the stairs. Amidst Caleb comforting Chloe in the background, as I reached the fourth step, the bandage accidentally caught on a metal bar. I didn’t have time to react, my foot slipped, and I fell heavily— That already swollen foot twisted sharply. A searing pain shot through me. I bit my lip, not making a sound. Caleb’s voice came from the living room: “What happened?” He took two steps towards me, then was called back. “Caleb, I’m still bleeding, please help me first…” His footsteps stopped. I bit my lip, slowly stood up by leaning on the wall. My left foot was completely useless; the blood from my ankle was close to soaking through the bandage. My wolf was almost entirely consumed by the pain and the agitation from the toxin. I pulled out my phone and dialed the doctor’s number. “Hello, my ankle is injured again. Could you please come pick me up?” Caleb finally walked over, his face pale. “I’ll take you.” “No need.” No sooner had I spoken than the sound of a vehicle came from outside. The doctor’s assistant came in and helped me into the car. I didn’t let Caleb touch me the entire time. Forty minutes later, after being treated, I walked out of the clinic on crutches. Caleb was waiting for me in the hallway. “Joanna.” He blocked my path. “What’s wrong with you tonight? Why are you so cold? If you’re angry, just say so, I can change, can’t I?” I stopped and looked at him. The hallway light was bright white; anxiety and confusion were in his eyes. “Caleb Miller,” I said, “haven’t you always hated it when I lost my temper?” Caleb froze. “Every time I confronted you about Chloe, you’d say I was too sensitive. You’d tell me to be more sensible, not to be unreasonable.” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. “Now I’m sensible,” I looked at him, my voice soft. “I’m not throwing a temper, I can solve problems on my own, without bothering you.” I paused. “Isn’t this what you always wanted?”

Joanna Bennett POV Caleb looked panicked. My eyes held genuine confusion. Caleb couldn’t meet my gaze. I walked towards the door on my crutches. The cold light of dawn shone on my retreating back, but I held my spine straight. He seemed very uncomfortable. “Joanna.” He caught up to me, bent down, and picked me up. I didn’t struggle, nor did I lean against him. I just lay quietly in his arms, like a piece of luggage. In the car, he buckled my seatbelt. When his fingers brushed against me, I flinched away. Caleb gripped the steering wheel in silence for a long time, then spoke. “Joanna, let’s have the Mating Ceremony.” His tone became resolute. “Let’s officially become mates.” The car was instantly silent. I turned my head to look at him. “Didn’t you always say a Mating Ceremony was too soon?” I said softly. “You said you liked our current state very much.” Caleb’s voice was hoarse. “We’ve been together for five years. We’re going to have a Mating Ceremony sooner or later, so why not… now?” I looked at the unconcealed tension in his eyes and suddenly found it amusing. That expression, for five years, had always been on my face. I had tested him countless times, and he always had an excuse: too busy, missions, “let’s wait.” Now that I didn’t care, he was suddenly anxious. That impatient look was almost as if he was trying to forcefully bind me to him with a mate bond. I didn’t answer. The ride was silent. When we got home, I went upstairs, and Caleb sat motionless on the sofa. My ankle throbbed faintly. I lay on the bed and closed my eyes. Soon after, I heard the sound of the front door closing and an engine starting downstairs. He went to find Chloe. It was expected, not worth losing sleep over. The next day, Beta Cole brought me my passport, plane ticket, and all other necessary documents for going abroad. The flight was booked for three days later. I confirmed the details, and when I returned to the apartment, Chloe was sitting there, eating pasta Caleb had cooked. “Morning.” Chloe smiled at me, her posture like the lady of the house. Caleb came out of the kitchen, his tone a little coaxing. “The weather’s nice today, why don’t the three of us go for a walk and relax?” I thought for a moment. “Sure.” There were large forests within the pack territory. Werewolves usually loved transforming into their wolf forms and running freely, rolling around in the forest. We didn’t do that; Chloe and Caleb seemed to prefer walking in human form. Chloe linked arms with Caleb, chatting about her experiences abroad, laughing and patting his shoulder. I walked behind them on my crutches, looking at the roadside flowers, at the clouds in the sky. No one looked back to tell me to catch up. And I didn’t need them to. There was a lake in the forest, a famous dating spot within the pack. As we reached the lake, Chloe walked over to me, her voice soft. “Joanna, who do you think Caleb would save first if there was danger?” Before I could answer, two wildly sprinting werewolves suddenly rushed towards us. Chloe screamed, didn’t dodge, but instead bumped into me. Due to my injured foot, I couldn’t dodge in time, and Chloe and I fell towards the lake. In that split second of falling, I saw Caleb rush over. His arms firmly caught Chloe. Chloe huddled in his embrace. Then I plunged into the cold lake water. Through the swirling water, I saw the two of them on the shore, tightly embracing. Chloe was buried in Caleb’s arms, and he held her shoulders tightly. I kept my eyes open in the water. The bandage on my ankle was soaked, and blood began to seep out again. I thought, I really wouldn’t have any expectations for Caleb anymore.

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“Julian, are you really going to marry Audrey, the one who poses nude for a living?” Liam Reynolds’ voice on the phone was dripping with undisguised contempt. Julian’s voice was cold and rational, like a blade dipped in ice. “It’s just a formality. Once Brandon Scott marries Lyla, I’ll give Audrey a sum of money and send her away.” So, he loved my own sister. He thought I was standing outside the studio, unable to hear anything. He thought the suit jacket he’d draped over my bare shoulders was a symbol of love and protection. He didn’t know I already had the key to a private island and a perpetually loyal lover in my account. Nor did he know I was patiently counting down the days until his performance ended. Audrey POV “Ms. Hayes, the transfer of your private island is complete,” Mr. Davies, my private butler, said over the transatlantic call. “The island is secluded. No communication devices can track your location.” “Additionally, your custom-designed family and companion service is ready. You paid a hefty sum for it. They’ve been implanted with the most advanced emotional programs. They will love you unconditionally and with absolute loyalty.” I stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking at my reflection in the glass, and softly agreed. “In thirty days, I’ll finish tying up all loose ends here and arrive on the island on schedule.” Hanging up the phone, I turned and walked back to the circular platform in the center of the art studio. This was Julian’s private studio. The air was filled with a mix of turpentine and a sophisticated woody scent. I untied the thin silk robe I was wearing, letting it fall to my ankles, exposing myself completely under the bright overhead lights. I am a nude model. In this field, it’s a profession accompanied by countless prejudices, condescension, and filthy speculation. But Julian Vance was an exception. He was one of the city’s most influential and wealthy figures, and also a gifted sculptor and painter. He once took off his expensive, high-end tailored suit, draped it over my bare, trembling shoulders, and in front of countless media flashes, kissed my collarbone and said, “In my eyes, you are the purest art in the world, my only muse.” “Cold?” A deep, mellow male voice interrupted my thoughts. Julian walked towards me, palette in hand. His fingertip, stained with a bit of warm paint, gently brushed against the small of my back. His gaze was focused and adoring, as if he were looking at a rare treasure. “Just ten more minutes, and this painting will be finished. For next month’s exhibition, I want the whole world to know how beautiful my wife, Audrey, is.” Wife. Hearing that word, my heart didn’t flutter with the usual sweetness. Instead, a bone-chilling coldness washed over me. I quietly lowered my gaze, remaining silent. Ten minutes later, Julian put down his paintbrush, picked up a cashmere blanket, and wrapped me snugly in it. He gently pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to wash my hands. After that, I’ll take you to try on wedding dresses.” Watching him walk into the bathroom, I noticed his phone casually placed next to the easel. The screen was lit, showing an ongoing FaceTime call with his friend, Liam. I took a step closer. Liam’s voice, a mix of teasing and pity, came clearly through the speaker. “Julian, are you really going to marry Audrey, the one who poses nude for a living? Are you crazy? How could the Vance family ever let a nude model marry into the family?” Amidst the sound of running water from the bathroom, Julian’s cold, rational voice came through his Bluetooth headset and reached my ears. “It’s just a formality. Brandon Scott dislikes Audrey’s profession and absolutely refuses to marry her, but his family is pressuring him not to break the engagement. If I don’t ‘steal’ Audrey’s fiancée status, how can Brandon be free to marry Lyla?” Liam sighed. “You’re something else. Just to let Lyla marry the man she loves, you, the heir to the Vance empire, are willing to humble yourself to pursue a nude model, even putting on this sickening act of being deeply in love and calling her your muse. Aren’t you afraid of getting trapped for life?” The water stopped running. Julian’s voice held a trace of barely suppressed tenderness, but it wasn’t for me. “As long as Lyla gets what she wants, everything I do is worth it. Once Lyla and Brandon are married, I’ll give Audrey a sum of money and send her away.” Boom. I felt all the blood in my body freeze instantly, and even breathing sent a tearing pain through me. It turned out that all his respect, favoritism, and protection for me over the past seven years had been nothing but lies. He pulled me out of the mire and put me on a pedestal, not because he loved me, but just to make way for my own sister, Lyla. What a grand and understated love. For Lyla’s happiness, he was willing to get his hands dirty, to embrace a “nude model” whom he fundamentally looked down on. I bit down hard on my lower lip until I tasted blood, forcing myself to turn around. There was no one here who loved me anymore. It’s okay. In thirty days, I’ll go to that deserted island, where I’ll have a lover who will never betray me.

Audrey POV The bathroom door opened, and Julian walked out, drying his hands. He put on his usual gentle mask, came up to me, and naturally pulled me into his arms, his chin gently brushing against my neck. “What’s wrong? You’re trembling. Are you cold?” His tone was so caring, his movements so gentle. If I hadn’t just heard those words with my own ears, I would never have believed that beneath this warm body lay a heart so cruel towards me. I suppressed the churning nausea in my stomach, subtly stepping back half a pace from his embrace, my voice calm. “No, I’m just a little tired.” Julian didn’t notice anything amiss, just dotingly ruffled my hair. “Then we won’t go try on wedding dresses today. You rest well at home. Tonight, I’ll cook your favorite dishes myself.” Looking into his deeply affectionate eyes, an image from five years ago flashed uncontrollably in my mind. At that time, I had just started as a nude model, and uncensored photos of me were maliciously leaked by the media. My biological parents, ashamed of me, locked me out of the house. My fiancé, Brandon Scott, even threw my photos in my face, calling me “low-class” and “disgusting.” It was Julian who descended like a god, blocking all the garbage and hateful camera flashes thrown at me. With the hands that had sculpted countless masterpieces, he gently wiped away the dirt from my face and declared to the world, “Art itself is innocent; it’s your eyes that are dirty. Audrey is my lifelong inspiration.” Back then, I thought I had found salvation. I took out my battered heart, carefully mended it, and gave it to him wholeheartedly. But now, it seemed it was nothing but a carefully planned hunt. His so-called “inspiration” was just to make me willingly give up Brandon. A special notification sound suddenly rang out in the quiet art studio, interrupting my thoughts. Julian picked up his phone, and his expression instantly changed with just one glance. His usually gentle brows tightened, and a hint of undisguised panic flashed in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” I asked, feigning ignorance. Julian hastily grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, not even sparing me a glance. “There’s a sudden emergency at the company. A multi-million dollar project has a glitch, and I have to go deal with it immediately. You wait patiently at home for me. Dinner might have to wait until tomorrow.” He spoke flawlessly, but as he turned away, I clearly saw the chat interface still lit up on his phone screen. It was a SnapChat message from Lyla, with an accompanying picture of a slender finger, with an extremely faint scratch on the fingertip, so shallow it hadn’t even bled. The caption read: “Julian, I accidentally scratched myself with a violin string while practicing. It hurts so much!” Because of such a trivial message, barely even a scratch, the man who constantly declared me his only inspiration, abandoned me without hesitation. The studio door was shut with a heavy thud. I stood there, looking at the empty room, and suddenly felt a strange sense of amusement. I once believed Julian was the man who loved me most in the world. But it turned out that in the face of a single scratch on Lyla’s finger, I, his “fiancée” who was about to marry him, wasn’t even worth an excuse. I didn’t cry. My tears had dried up during those long nights of being cursed by my parents and scorned by Brandon. I simply walked calmly to the easel, looking at the oil painting Julian had just finished. The woman in the painting was nude, her eyes pure and melancholic, breathtakingly beautiful. I picked up a paintbrush stained with black paint and, without the slightest hesitation, drew a huge, ugly ‘X’ across the woman’s face in the painting. Then, I turned and walked back to the bedroom, pulled out a black suitcase, and began to pack my belongings, one by one. Since I decided to leave, I would leave cleanly, without a trace.

Audrey POV After packing my usual clothes, I started to organize my documents, only to realize the most important ones weren’t with me. I paused for a moment, then changed into a conservative long-sleeved trench coat, wrapping myself up completely. I called an Uber to the Hayes family mansion. This was my home, yet I stood at the entrance like a cautious stranger. Ever since I insisted on becoming a nude model five years ago, against my family’s wishes, the Hayes family had changed their locks and never given me a key again. After ringing the doorbell, it took a full ten minutes for Martha, the housekeeper, to open the door, her face full of impatience. In the living room, my parents were sitting on the sofa, sipping tea. Seeing me walk in, their previously smiling faces instantly darkened, as if they had seen something repulsive. “What are you doing back? Our family’s name has been completely dragged through the mud by you, and you still have the nerve to step foot in this house?” Mom slammed her teacup onto the coffee table, her sharp voice piercing my ears. Dad just snorted, not even bothering to look at me directly. “What, you can’t make money flaunting yourself outside anymore, so you want to come back begging? Let me tell you, the Hayes family only has one daughter, Lyla. You disgusting thing, get out of here quickly and don’t soil our carpet!” I had heard such words countless times. Before, I would feel wronged, try to explain the difference between art and pornography, and cry, asking them why they only loved Lyla when we were both their daughters. But now, my heart was like a dry well, no longer stirred by any ripple. “I’ll just grab my things and leave.” I walked directly towards the study on the second floor. Just then, the front door of the mansion opened again. “I’ve brought Lyla home.” Julian’s voice echoed from the entrance hall. My steps abruptly halted. I turned around and saw Julian carefully escorting Lyla inside. Lyla was wearing a pure white, high-end couture dress, like a noble, flawless white swan. And Julian’s hand was loosely resting on her waist, his eyes filled with a tension and tenderness I had never seen directed at me. “Oh, my sweet daughter, how did you cut your hand? Let Mom see!” Mom’s harshness towards me instantly vanished, replaced by a face full of concern as she rushed to meet Lyla. Lyla leaned delicately against Julian, extending the finger whose red mark had almost disappeared. “I’m fine, I just practiced violin too hard. Thanks to Julian, he pushed aside a multi-million dollar meeting as soon as he heard I was hurt, insisting on taking me to the hospital for a bandage. The doctor even said the cut would have healed if we’d arrived any later.” Her words were full of boastfulness, but her eyes provocatively sought me out, standing at the top of the stairs. Julian finally noticed my presence. His body stiffened slightly. He subconsciously withdrew his hand from Lyla’s waist, a flicker of rapid panic and guilt in his eyes. “What are you doing here?” He quickly walked to the bottom of the stairs, trying to take my hand. “I… my meeting ended early, and I happened to pass by Lyla’s studio, so I gave her a ride home.” I avoided his touch. I looked at this man, full of lies, and felt utterly absurd. A multi-million dollar meeting? Happened to pass by? He could unhesitatingly abandon me for Lyla’s minor injury, yet now he wanted to play the deeply affectionate, innocent role in front of me. “Don’t blame Julian. He’s just too kind; he can’t stand to see anyone hurt.” Lyla stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over my tightly wrapped trench coat. A malicious smile played on her lips. “Are you finally feeling ashamed, dressed so heavily today? Julian actually told me that while he respects your ‘art,’ he’s still quite bothered by you letting so many men see you.” Julian’s face changed drastically, and he snapped, “Lyla, don’t talk nonsense!” He turned to me, explaining urgently. “Don’t listen to her. I never thought that. In my heart, you are always the purest.” I watched him silently, watching the undeniable hypocrisy in his eyes. I didn’t argue or make a scene. I simply calmly withdrew my gaze and turned to continue upstairs. “Whether it’s nonsense or not, it no longer matters.”

Audrey POV I easily found my documents in the bottom drawer of the study. After carefully placing them in my bag, I went downstairs. I had intended to leave immediately, but my mother’s cold, hard voice stopped me. “Since you’re back, have dinner before you go. Otherwise, people will say the Hayes family is cruel, not even feeding their own daughter.” Mom’s words were spoken with extreme reluctance. If Julian hadn’t been present, she probably would have already told Martha to get a broom and kick me out. I wanted to refuse, but I caught Julian’s pleading gaze out of the corner of my eye, as if he was begging me to cooperate with his act as the “devoted fiancé.” I felt apathetic and nodded, taking a seat at the very edge of the dining table. Martha soon served the dishes. The table was piled high with food I disliked, and many spicy dishes. I have severe stomach ulcers and cannot tolerate any spice. My family knew this, and Julian knew it even better. Once, when we were eating out, a bit of chili accidentally got into my soup, and I was in so much pain I broke out in a cold sweat. That day, Julian, who was always so dignified and composed, lost his temper in the restaurant and even personally took care of me. From then on, whenever he was present at a meal, there was never a trace of chili. But now, he looked at the table full of dishes and didn’t even frown. “Julian, try this. I specially asked Martha to make it. I know you’ve been eating her plain food lately, you must be tired of it.” Lyla picked up a piece of meat and naturally placed it in Julian’s bowl. Julian subconsciously glanced at me. Seeing that I had my head down and wasn’t reacting, he smiled and ate the meat. “Thanks, Lyla. It’s certainly been a while since I’ve had anything spicy.” So, he hadn’t changed his palate for me; he had just been enduring it. I picked up the glass of plain water in front of me, took a sip, and suppressed the faint pang of pain in my stomach. At the dinner table, my parents constantly served Lyla and Julian, the three of them chatting and laughing as if they were the only family, and I was just a transparent, superfluous decoration. “By the way,” Lyla suddenly changed the subject, directing her words at me, “I heard you’re having a solo exhibition next month? And Julian is personally organizing it for you?” My hand, holding the knife and fork, paused slightly. That exhibition was Julian’s promised “wedding gift” to me. He said he would use the most magnificent exhibition to showcase my beauty to the world and wash away all the shame associated with me. “Yes.” I replied indifferently. Lyla covered her mouth and chuckled, her eyes full of disdain. “You’re really brave. If I were like you, posing nude in front of men every day, I wouldn’t even dare to leave the house, let alone hold an art exhibition. I truly don’t know how you manage to be so… uninhibited.” “Lyla!” Mom sounded like she was scolding her, but her tone was full of indulgence, “She has no shame, but don’t you dare learn from her! Our family has always been respectable. How did we end up with such a disgrace!” I didn’t retort. I just quietly looked at Julian. The man who had once draped his jacket over me in front of countless people and shielded me, was now sitting quietly. Not only did he not refute them as he usually would, but he slightly frowned and spoke to me in an extremely gentle, yet somewhat condescending tone. “Lyla is young and speaks her mind; don’t take it to heart. However… they do have a point. After this exhibition, once we’re married, you should stop modeling. A Vance wife shouldn’t be out there, letting people judge her.” His voice was soft, but it felt like a dull knife, mercilessly cutting into my heart. This was his so-called “inspiration” and “art.” It turned out that, deep down, he was just like those who looked at me with prejudiced eyes, believing my profession was low-class, disgraceful, and needed to be hidden. Every one of his previous defenses was just an act to make Brandon comfortable with breaking off the engagement. I put down my knife and fork and stood up. “I’m full. Please enjoy your meal.” I didn’t look at Julian’s instantly stiff face, nor did I heed my parents’ curses. I walked directly out of the mansion and into the cold autumn night.

Audrey POV After returning from the Hayes’ residence, I began a quiet purge. Twenty-five days until I left for the island. I sorted and packed up all the expensive gowns and jewelry Julian had customized for me in my walk-in closet, then contacted a luxury resale specialist. I dug out the “model contracts” I once treasured. The promises Julian had personally written, ensuring I would be his exclusive muse. His handwriting was strong and bold, once etching itself into my heart with every stroke, but now it only felt ironic. I lit a lighter, watching the papers turn to ash in the metal basin. “What are you burning?” Julian pushed open the door, a faint smell of alcohol clinging to him. Seeing the metal basin on the floor, he frowned slightly and quickly stepped forward, stomping out the last embers. “Just some unwanted scraps of paper.” I stood up. Julian looked at me. He stepped forward, pulled me forcefully into his embrace, his chin resting on the top of my head, his voice tinged with a hint of appeasement. “Are you still angry with me? That day at your parents’ house, I was just trying to calm them down. You know, you’re the only one in my heart.” He paused, then produced a gilded invitation as if it were a treasure. “Tomorrow is the opening of the exhibition. I promise, this exhibition, named ‘Audrey: A New Beginning’, will make you the most dazzling queen in the entire art world. All the rumors will be silenced.” I lowered my gaze, looking at the invitation card bearing my name, and a silent, cold laugh escaped my heart. If I hadn’t overheard his conversation with Liam that day, I probably would have been moved to tears. “Okay.” I softly agreed. The next evening, the city’s largest private art gallery was brightly lit. I wore a conservative black long dress and walked into the exhibition hall, holding Julian’s hand. However, when I looked up at the giant poster in the center of the hall, my steps froze. On the poster, the originally planned exhibition title, “Audrey: A New Beginning,” had been conspicuously replaced with “Lyla’s Growth.” The irony wasn’t lost on me. And in the very center of the exhibition hall, under the brightest spotlights, wasn’t the oil painting of me, but a massive sculpture. The sculpture depicted a young girl in a ballet dress, pure, noble, and untouchable. It was Lyla’s face. I looked for a long time. Finally, in the darkest, most inconspicuous corner of the exhibition hall, I found my artwork. The painting depicted me nude, bathed in dark red light, creating an ambiguous and alluring tone. Below the painting hung a glaring label: “Mud under the Swan’s Feet.” Mud. So this was his idea of a “queen.” Guests gathered in small groups, pointing at the painting in the corner and letting out subtle, knowing chuckles. “I heard this is Mr. Vance’s common fiancée? Her figure isn’t bad, no wonder she managed to seduce him.” “The contrast is too stark, isn’t it? That sculpture in the middle is Lyla, the eldest daughter of the Hayes family, right? That’s true art, elegant and sacred. The one in the corner is, at most, an explicit photo.” “Mr. Vance’s intentions are brilliant. Putting his fiancée’s nude painting beneath his beloved’s sculpture as a backdrop. Isn’t that a blatant insult?” Their harsh words pierced my ears like needles. I turned and looked at Julian, who stood beside me. He was wearing a well-tailored suit, a flawless smile on his face. He didn’t even glance at me, his gaze fixed dreamily on the sculpture of Lyla in the center. “Is this your gift to me?” My voice was very soft, yet it was unusually clear in the noisy exhibition hall. Julian snapped back to reality, meeting my eyes. He quickly grabbed my hand, lowering his voice to explain. “Listen to me. Lyla is applying to the Royal Art Academy, and she needs a prominent exhibition credit. You don’t care about these superficial things, do you? You’re my private muse. These paintings are in the corner to protect you, to keep too many people from seeing your body.” Protect? Stripping away my dignity and trampling it underfoot to elevate Lyla’s throne. Was this protection? I forcefully pulled my hand away, one finger at a time, prying his grip loose. “Julian, you’re disgusting.”

Audrey POV I didn’t make a scene at the exhibition. I simply turned and walked out of that suffocating art gallery, leaving Julian stunned. The cold wind on my face felt incredibly clear. Fifteen days until I left for the island. Back in the empty mansion, I turned off my phone, cutting off all outside noise. I began to liquidate my assets even faster, transferring all the money from the resale of luxury items into the overseas account provided by my private butler. Three days later, when I turned my phone back on, a deluge of news notifications popped up. “Breaking! Brandon Scott and Lyla Hayes officially announce engagement!” “Wedding of the Century! The Scott and Hayes families unite, the most perfect couple!” The accompanying photo showed Brandon in a white suit, gently kissing Lyla’s hand. Standing behind them, as a “male relative of the bride,” was Julian. In the photo, Julian’s eyes were deeply fixed on Lyla, harboring a profound, suppressed affection that even the media could discern. I quietly looked at the photo, and the last ripple in my heart completely settled. He finally got what he wanted. Using my dignity, my reputation, and my seven years of youth, he paved a smooth path for the woman he loved. Late that night, the mansion door was suddenly pushed open. Julian stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. His eyes were bloodshot, his tie askew. He had completely lost his usual aristocratic composure. Seeing me on the sofa, he seemed to find an outlet for his emotions. He lunged, pinning me roughly to the couch. He buried his head in my neck, his voice conveying a almost pathological sense of relief and pain. “She’s engaged… she finally got what she wanted…” The strong smell of alcohol mixed with his familiar woody scent made me feel a wave of physical revulsion. I stared coldly at the man pressing down on me. “Julian, what the hell are you doing?” “I’m not crazy!” Julian suddenly lifted his head, staring at me with a wild, possessive look. “It’s all over! Brandon married her. I don’t have to worry about her being wronged anymore. Now I only have you. Let’s get married, let’s get married right now, okay?” He said, lowering his head to kiss my lips, his hands roughly pulling at the buttons of my sleepwear. I used all my strength, delivering a sharp slap to his face. The crisp sound of the slap echoed in the silent living room. Julian’s head was knocked to the side. The alcohol in his system seemed to clear up a bit. He touched his stinging cheek, his eyes instantly turning sinister and terrifying. “You hit me?” He sneered, his eyes filled with the brutality of a torn facade. “Audrey, why are you acting so high and mighty? You’re nothing but a nude model who poses for paintings! Besides me, what other man in this world would marry you? Brandon thought you were dirty, your parents thought you were a disgrace. What do you think you are?” The most vicious words often come from the most intimate people. He stepped right on my most painful wound. He was trying to hide his own pain of losing Lyla. By belittling me, he tried to prove he was still the god who controlled everything. I didn’t struggle, nor did I cry. I just looked at him like he was a pathetic creature. “Yes, I’m dirty.” “So, Mr. Vance, don’t soil your noble hands.” He suddenly stopped all his movements, looking into my eyes. He scrambled off me, trying to fix my torn collar. “I’m sorry, I was drunk… I didn’t mean that…” I avoided his hand, stood up, straightened my clothes, and walked upstairs without looking back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “409395”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

“Stella, why are you arguing with a dying woman? You’re perfectly healthy.” Leo slammed the marriage papers onto the table, his voice laced with pure impatience. I’d just returned from the Dakar Rally, my right shoulder shattered, blood soaking through my racing suit. I risked my life to win the championship for him, and what I got in return was him marrying his first love. “She only has six months left. Can’t you just make things easy for her?” Only Leo, that fool, couldn’t see that his first love had been faking her illness all along. I looked at him, and then I laughed. “Leo, my right arm is ruined. Did you care even once?” He frowned. “What are you throwing a fit about now?” I didn’t say anything more. Instead, right in front of him, I dialed Vincent King’s number. “Mr. King, I’ll sign the cooperation agreement you mentioned last time.” Stella POV The roar of the engines ripped through the wind on the Death Valley track, kicking up clouds of yellow dust. I steered the battered red race car, cutting into the final turn at an impossible angle, executed an extreme drift, and sped across the finish line first. Bang. Confetti showered down. The crowd erupted. I won. It was a Dakar-level endurance race, forty-eight hours of continuous high-intensity driving. I had secured the most prestigious championship trophy for Leo Thorne’s “Redline” racing team. The moment I pushed open the car door, I practically fell out of the driver’s seat. My right shoulder had been severely dislocated in a crash yesterday. To finish the race, I popped it back in myself. Now my entire right arm was swollen and numb, blood soaking through the thick fire-resistant racing suit, a truly shocking sight. Before the race, Leo had kissed my forehead by the track. “Stella, as long as we win this championship, I’ll propose to you. I’ll let the whole world know that you are my only wife.” Seven years of a secret relationship, seven years of desperate battles, and I’d finally heard those words. I refused the stretcher offered by the medical team, enduring the excruciating pain, and dialed Leo’s number, full of expectation. “Sorry, the number you dialed is temporarily unavailable.” The cold, robotic female voice was like a bucket of ice water, dousing the fire in my heart. Perhaps he was busy preparing a surprise proposal? I found a team medic to casually bandage my wound and rushed back to the club’s base in the country on an overnight flight. It was late at night, and the base was quiet. I pushed open the door to Leo’s office. No flowers, no ring, no grand surprise, just an empty, cold room. The lounge door was ajar, and I heard Leo’s deep, gentle voice. A tone I rarely heard him use. “Summer, did you take your medicine? Don’t be scared, it’s just thunder. I’m right here on the phone with you.” “Be good. You’re my wife now. If I don’t stay with you, who will I stay with?” I froze in place, my blood seeming to turn to ice in an instant, even my breathing stopped. Wife? I pushed the door open. Leo heard the movement and turned his head. Seeing me covered in blood and grime, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes, but it quickly returned to his usual calm. He murmured a few soothing words into the phone, then quickly hung up. “You’re back. What happened to you?” He stepped forward, trying to check my injuries. I avoided his hand, my gaze fixed on the glaring marriage papers on his desk, next to a photo. In the photo, Leo wore a white shirt, and the woman beside him, with a gentle, fragile smile, was none other than his first love, Summer Hayes. The date on it was three days ago. That was the same day I almost plunged off a cliff in Death Valley, car and all, because of brake failure. “What’s this?” I asked calmly, so calmly that even I found it unbelievable. Leo’s face froze for a second, then he rubbed his temples, his tone laced with a sense of helpless justification. “Stella, listen to me. Summer’s congenital heart disease has worsened. The doctor says she only has six months at most. Her biggest regret in life is never getting to wear a wedding dress.” “Her family was forcing her to marry an old man for money. I couldn’t just stand by and watch her die with regrets.” “It’s just a piece of paper, a way to fulfill her dying wish. After… I’ll marry you properly, with all the pomp and circumstance you deserve.” Looking at the man I’d been with for seven years, I suddenly felt like I didn’t know him at all. “A piece of paper?” I pulled at the corners of my chapped lips. “Leo, while I was risking my life on the track to win a championship for you, you were marrying another woman. You call that ‘just a piece of paper’?” Leo frowned slightly, his voice deepening. “Stella, when did you become so heartless and calculating? You’re a healthy person with a great future, and Summer is dying! Are you really going to target even someone who’s about to die?” Heartless? Calculating? An excruciating pain shot through my right shoulder, making me almost unable to stand. I’d suffered countless injuries for his racing team, brushing shoulders with death several times. In the end, all I got was a “heartless.” “Fine, I won’t be calculating.” I lowered my eyes. There were no hysterical arguments, no weeping accusations. Because the moment my heart died, it was eerily silent. I turned, dragging my broken body, and walked out of that office, which held seven years of my youth, one step at a time. Just then, his phone rang again. “Leo, my chest hurts so much…” Summer’ weak, tearful voice came through. Leo turned, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out. He didn’t even look back at me.

Stella POV The cold rain lashed against my face as I took a taxi alone to the downtown hospital. The emergency room lights were harsh and blinding white. The orthopedic surgeon looked at my X-rays, his brows tightly furrowed, his tone severe. “Severe rotator cuff tear, accompanied by a comminuted fracture. You’ve let this injury go for too long. If Professor Miller doesn’t perform minimally invasive repair immediately, you won’t even be able to grip a steering wheel with this hand in the future, let alone race!” Professor Miller was a top orthopedic and sports rehabilitation expert in the country, and also the Redline team’s exclusive medical consultant, hired by Leo at a high salary. I gritted my teeth, enduring the sharp pain, and dialed Professor Miller’s number. “I’m sorry, Stella. Mr. Thorne just urgently called me to the VIP ward. Ms. Hayes had a sudden palpitation, and Mr. Thorne gave a strict order that I must stay here until all of Ms. Hayes’s indicators are completely stable. Your surgery… I’m afraid it will have to be pushed back.” My hand clutching the phone tightened sharply, my nails digging deep into my palm. Palpitation? Did a heart patient’s palpitation really require a top orthopedic expert to stand guard? I don’t know how I walked to the VIP ward door. Through the slightly ajar door, I saw Summer leaning back on the soft hospital bed, her face flushed, daintily sipping water that Leo was feeding her himself. Professor Miller and several other experts hovered around her like she was the center of the universe, terrified that this delicate patient might suffer the slightest mishap. “Leo, am I too delicate? Just a fright from thunder, and you’ve gone to all this trouble.” Summer spoke in a soft, delicate voice, her eyes subtly flickering in my direction. Leo meticulously wiped soup from the corner of her lips, his voice so tender it could melt butter. “Your health is the most important thing. Even a scratch is a huge deal to me.” I stood outside the door, blood from my right shoulder already dripping from my fingertips onto the cold tile floor, forming ghastly blood blossoms. A scratch was a huge deal. What about my comminuted fractured right arm? What about my career, teetering on the brink of ruin? In Leo’s eyes, they were nothing at all. I didn’t push the door open and humiliate myself. I turned and walked back to the emergency room, calmly telling the attending doctor: “I won’t wait. Please help me with a manual reduction and immobilization.” The doctor looked at me in shock. “Without anesthesia? This level of fracture, manual reduction will be so painful it could send someone into shock!” “It’s fine. I can take it.” Because no pain could hurt more than this battered heart right now. The reduction process was like death. The dull grinding of bone against bone in the silent exam room was bone-chilling. I bit down hard on my lip, cold sweat soaking my entire body, yet I didn’t make a single sound of pain. Only when I tasted the strong metallic tang of blood in my mouth did I collapse onto the hospital bed, utterly drained. It was already past midnight when my wound was dressed. Dragging my right arm, now encased in a heavy cast, I returned to the apartment Leo and I had shared for five years. Pushing open the door, I saw a pair of brand-new pink women’s slippers in the entryway. On the living room sofa, several unfamiliar women’s jackets were scattered. A faint scent of chamomile perfume, Summer’ favorite, hung in the air. I walked to the table. Where a photo of Leo and me used to be, there was now a wedding photo of Leo and Summer. In the picture, they gazed at each other lovingly, like a true couple. I watched it for a while, feeling as though these past five years had been an absurd joke. I walked into the bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and began packing with one hand. The matching mugs I bought. Into the trash can. The scarf I’d knitted for him myself. Into the trash can. Photo albums, letters, and mementos filled with our sweet memories. All mercilessly swept into black trash bags. For three full hours, the once cozy bedroom became empty, leaving behind only Leo’s cold possessions. Just as I was about to zip up my suitcase, I heard the sound of the front door unlocking. Leo walked in, carrying a chill with him. Seeing the black trash bags piled in the living room, his brows furrowed tightly. “What in the world are you doing in the middle of the night?” He strode into the bedroom, and seeing the suitcase in my hand, his face instantly fell. “Stella, have you had enough of this drama? I told you Summer is just a patient. Are you really trying to force me by running away at a time like this?” I looked up. “I’m not causing drama, and I’m not forcing you.” I zipped up the suitcase, picked it up with one hand, and looked at him calmly. “Leo, let’s break up.”

Stella POV “Break up?” Leo laughed coldly, as if he’d heard the biggest joke. His gaze fell on my right arm, encased in a cast. A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly masked by irritation. “Stella, can’t you be more sensible? Summer just fell asleep, and I rushed back overnight to calm you down, and this is your attitude? You’re going to break up with me over a marriage that’s only in name?” He took a step forward, trying to grab my hand. “Stop this drama, put your luggage back. What happened to your hand? I’ll have Professor Miller take a good look at it tomorrow.” I turned sideways, avoiding his touch. “No need. Professor Miller is very busy, and my hand isn’t Mr. Thorne’s concern.” I dragged my suitcase towards the door, but Leo blocked my way, his tall frame pressing against the doorframe. “If you dare to step out of this door today, you can forget about participating in any Redline team races for the rest of the year!” I merely glanced at him indifferently. “Suit yourself.” Leo was stunned. As we stood at an impasse, a crisp sound of glass shattering suddenly came from the bedroom. Leo’s face changed dramatically. He shoved me aside and rushed into the guest room. He pushed me, making me stumble, and my right arm hit the wall. The excruciating pain almost made me pass out. In the guest room, Summer stood barefoot among shattered glass, a small cut on her ankle. And what lay broken on the floor was my most treasured custom racing helmet. The gift Leo gave me when I won my first national championship. “Leo, I’m so sorry. I was thirsty and wanted to get some water, and I accidentally knocked over Stella’s helmet…” Summer’ eyes were red-rimmed, tears falling like broken beads, like a frightened deer. Leo picked her up tenderly, carrying her sideways and gently placing her on the bed. Then he turned and glared at me in the doorway, furious. “What were you doing leaving your helmet here? You know Summer isn’t well; what if it scared her and triggered a heart attack?!” Looking at the shattered helmet on the floor, it was like looking at seven years of my youth, broken into pieces. That was my private storage cabinet; Summer had rummaged through my things without permission. But I was too tired to explain. “It’s just a broken helmet. If it’s broken, it’s broken.” “Leo, anything you gave me, I find it disgusting.” Leo’s pupils constricted sharply. He stood up abruptly, took a few steps towards me, and gritted his teeth. “Stella, don’t push your luck! Summer didn’t mean it. Do you have to be so harsh and petty?” Summer weakly pulled at Leo’s sleeve from the bed. “Leo, don’t blame Stella. It’s all my fault. Stella, I know you hate me for taking Leo away, but I really don’t have long to live. Can’t you even spare me this little bit of time?” She cried, then looked at the Dakar championship trophy at my feet. “Leo, that trophy is so beautiful. Seeing it, I feel like I have the courage to overcome my illness…” Leo followed her gaze and walked towards me without hesitation. “Stella, give Summer the trophy. She needs some emotional support.” I protected the trophy, looking at him in disbelief. “Leo, are you crazy? This is the championship trophy I risked my life for!” “It’s just to borrow for a few days. Do you have to be so petty?” Leo impatiently reached out to grab it. “Let go!” In the struggle, the sharp metal edge of the trophy’s base cut deeply into the palm of my left hand. Blood instantly gushed out, dripping onto the clean floor. Leo snatched the trophy. Seeing my bleeding hand, his movements paused, and a hint of panic flashed in his eyes. But Summer let out a timely, painful whimper. “Leo, my chest feels so tight…” Leo immediately took the trophy and turned towards Summer, throwing a remark over his shoulder without looking back: “Go bandage it yourself. Don’t get the floor dirty.” I looked at my bloodied hands: my right hand with a comminuted fracture, my left hand with a wound so deep the bone was visible. I laughed, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t bandage it. Instead, I picked up my suitcase with one hand and, stepping through the spreading blood, walked out of that suffocating house without looking back. This time, Leo didn’t chase after me.

Stella POV Three days later, the Redline team’s championship celebration was held at the city’s most exclusive hotel. As the team owner, Leo booked the entire ballroom, inviting countless media and sponsors. As the biggest contributor to the championship win, I should have been the undisputed star of the night. But when I walked into the ballroom alone, wearing a simple black suit, my cast-encased right arm hidden in a wide sleeve, I found that the entire room’s focus was on someone else. At the end of the red carpet, Leo stood tall in a custom-tailored suit. On his arm, clinging to him, was Summer, fragile as a princess in a custom white gown. Camera flashes went off wildly. “Mr. Thorne, who is this beautiful lady?” A reporter shouted a question. Leo gazed tenderly at Summer and smiled slightly at the cameras. “Let me formally introduce everyone to my wife, Summer.” The entire room erupted in murmurs. Everyone knew Leo and I were the racing world’s “most beautiful couple.” Though never officially announced, it was an open secret. Now, Leo had suddenly announced he was married, and the bride was someone else entirely. Countless curious, sympathetic, and mocking gazes instantly fell upon me in the corner. I found a secluded spot and sat down. Days of persistent fever, coupled with the agonizing pain of my fracture and lack of food, caused spasms in my stomach. Cold sweat soaked the back of my shirt. I wasn’t here to argue today; I was here to formally submit my termination contract. Halfway through the banquet, Leo, glass in hand, walked from table to table chatting with Summer, finally arriving in front of me. “Stella, why are you hiding here alone? Why is your hand still in a cast?” Leo seemed to just notice my unusual state, his brow slightly furrowed, his tone carrying a hint of condescending pity. “You’re the hero tonight. Why aren’t you dressed up nicely?” I didn’t stand up; I just looked at him coldly. “Mr. Thorne, my termination contract has already been sent to your email. After tonight, I am no longer a Redline team driver.” Leo’s face instantly darkened, and the hand gripping his glass tightened sharply. “Stella, are you still throwing a tantrum? For the sake of a title, are you throwing away your own future? Leaving Redline, do you think any other team would want a cripple?” He deliberately emphasized “cripple,” trying to hurt me, to make me submit. I didn’t even flinch. “That’s not Mr. Thorne’s concern.” Seeing this, Summer, delicately holding a steaming glass of red wine, walked over to me. “Stella, Leo just cares too much about the team. Don’t be angry with him. I’ll toast you on his behalf, thank you for winning the championship for the team.” She leaned in close, and in a voice only we two could hear, she whispered provocatively in my ear: “The championship you risked your life for, didn’t it just become my plaything in the end? Stella, you’re so pathetic, like a stray dog no one wants.” I spat out, “Get lost.” I didn’t reach out to push Summer, but she suddenly shrieked, falling backward. The scalding red wine in her glass spilled entirely onto my uninjured left hand! “It’s so hot!” Summer fell to the ground, clutching her wrist and sobbing. The scalding liquid instantly turned my hand crimson, and a searing pain shot through me, but I simply gritted my teeth, not letting out a single cry of pain. “Summer!” Leo’s eyes were bloodshot. He rushed forward, sweeping Summer into his arms. He turned, his eyes crimson, glaring at me, and raised his hand. Slap! He landed a resounding slap across my face! “Stella! You are utterly malicious! Summer kindly offered you a toast, and you pushed her!” Leo put all his strength into that slap. My head snapped to the side, a trickle of blood escaping the corner of my mouth, my ears ringing. The entire ballroom was dead silent. I slowly turned my head, looking at the man who had laid a hand on me for another woman. I didn’t cover my face, nor did I cry; I just stared at him. “Leo, this slap severs our seven years of relationship.” I straightened up, ignoring the alarming redness and blisters on the back of my hand, and turned, walking step by step towards the ballroom door. “Stella! If you dare to walk out that door today, I promise to blacklist you from the racing world permanently!” Leo roared furiously behind me. I didn’t look back. I pushed open the heavy door and walked out into the pouring rain.

Stella POV The rain was torrential, as if it intended to drown the entire city. I swayed in the rain. The high fever, the agonizing pain of the fracture, the searing burn, and the churning spasms in my stomach finally pushed me to my limit. My vision began to blur, my legs gave out, and I tumbled forward into the cold puddles. Just as I thought I would be swallowed by the downpour, a black umbrella shielded me from the rain. A pair of expensive handmade leather shoes stopped in front of me. I struggled to lift my head, and through the blurry curtain of rain, I saw a man in a black trench coat with a stern face. Vincent. The owner of the Phantom racing team, Leo’s biggest rival in the racing world, and known in the circuit as a cold-blooded tyrant. “The Redline team’s champion driver, collapsed in the street like a stray dog?” Vincent looked down at me, his voice deep and cold, yet with a hint of barely perceptible anger. I had no strength to retort. I closed my eyes and completely succumbed to darkness. Vincent looked at my body, covered in injuries, his brows tightly furrowed. He bent down, picked me up bridal style, and strode towards the black Maybach parked by the roadside. “To the private hospital. Have all orthopedic and burn specialists on standby immediately.” Inside the car, Vincent looked at my cast-encased right arm and my left hand, now a mass of blisters, a terrifying storm brewing in his eyes. I lay unconscious for two full days and nights in Vincent’s private hospital. After the fever broke, I opened my eyes to see Vincent sitting by the bedside, looking through my medical records. “Awake?” Vincent closed the medical records, his gaze deep as he looked at me. “Comminuted fracture of the right arm, second-degree burns on the left hand, severe malnutrition. Stella, are you trying to run yourself into the ground?” I moved my parched lips. “Thank you for saving me, Mr. King.” “I didn’t save you for nothing.” Vincent tossed a contract onto my bedside table. “The Phantom team needs a lead driver. Sign it, and I’ll give you the best medical resources, guaranteeing your return to the track within six months.” I looked at the exorbitant signing bonus in the contract, a little taken aback. “My hand… it might be ruined.” “As long as you have a breath in you, I can get you back to your peak.” Vincent leaned forward, his imposing presence enveloping me. “What Leo discards as trash, I value as priceless. Stella, dare to take a gamble with me?” Looking at the ambition and certainty in the man’s eyes, my dead heart suddenly beat fiercely. With my burned left hand, I painstakingly gripped the pen and signed my name on the contract. “I’ll take that gamble.” The day after signing the contract, I insisted on being discharged against the doctors’ advice. I had to return to the Redline team’s base to retrieve my core racing data stored there and to officially terminate my contract with Leo. Vincent didn’t stop me; he simply sent two bodyguards and a private car to take me. At the Redline team’s base, the atmosphere was unusually oppressive. I pushed open the main door and walked straight to my private lounge. However, the moment I opened the door, I froze. My racing posters were torn to shreds, and my trophies were casually tossed into a cardboard box in the corner. The room had pink curtains, and the air was thick with the pungent scent of chamomile perfume. Summer was sitting in my exclusive massage chair, directing several staff members to move furniture. “This sofa is too hard. Leo said he’d replace it with a leather one for me. And that cabinet, throw it out; it’s an eyesore.”

Stella POV Seeing my appearance, a flicker of panic crossed Summer’ eyes, but she quickly adopted an innocent expression. “Stella, you’re back? Leo said you might not be racing anymore, and this lounge was empty, so he let me use it as an art studio for now. You don’t mind, do you?” I ignored her provocation and walked straight to the safe, inputting the password and retrieving the hard drive filled with core data. “Suit yourself. I don’t care for this dump anymore anyway.” I turned to leave, but Leo pushed open the door just then. Seeing me, a hint of barely perceptible surprise flashed in Leo’s eyes, but he quickly composed himself, adopting a condescending air. “So you decided to come back? I thought you were going to hide away forever.” He walked up to me, his gaze falling on my bandaged left hand, his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly. “Alright, stop being childish. Summer has given you back the lounge. Withdraw your termination email, and for tomorrow’s test race, you can instruct the new drivers as co-pilot.” He arranged everything for me as if that night’s slap and our breakup had never happened. I looked at this conceited man in front of me and found him utterly ridiculous. “Mr. Thorne, I think you’ve got something wrong.” I slapped a paper termination agreement and a check onto Leo’s chest. “I came here today to pay the breach of contract fee. From now on, I have absolutely no relationship with the Redline team, or with you, Leo.” Leo looked down at the enormous check, stamped with the Phantom team’s official seal, his face instantly turning ashen. “Phantom team? You actually hooked up with Vincent behind my back?!” Leo’s anger turned to a cold laugh. He grabbed my collar. “Stella, you’ve really gotten bold! To get back at me, you’d even provoke a ruthless monster like him?!” “Let go!” I looked at him coldly. “Who I sign with is my business.” “I don’t agree!” Leo violently tore the check to shreds, his eyes crimson. “You’re a Redline person, and you’ll die a Redline ghost! Do you think Vincent truly values you? He just wants to use you to humiliate me! Once this hand of yours is completely ruined, he’ll throw you away like trash!” “That’s still better than staying by your side and being a fawning dog!” I pushed him away forcefully. That hit a nerve, and Leo completely lost it. “Fine! Fine then! Stella, if you dare to walk out that door today, I promise to destroy your career and reputation! I will submit evidence to the Racing Association that you deliberately underperformed and leaked team secrets, ensuring you never set foot on a racetrack again!” He used my most cherished dream to ruthlessly threaten me. I stopped, turning to look at him. “Leo, you’re truly pathetic.” I didn’t say another word, turning decisively and walking out. Seeing this, Summer hurriedly chased after me, grabbing my arm, her face drenched in tears. “Stella, don’t go! It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have used your lounge, please don’t be angry with Leo…” In the struggle, a malicious glint flashed in Summer’ eyes. Her high heel stomped hard and accurately on my cast-encased right foot, while her shoulder slammed into my comminuted fractured right arm! Excruciating pain instantly swept through my entire body. My vision went black, and out of instinct, I forcefully pushed Summer away. “Ah!” Summer stumbled and fell to the ground, hitting her forehead on the doorframe, a trickle of blood appearing. “Summer!” Leo’s eyes were bloodshot. He rushed forward and kicked me hard in the back of my knee. Already weak, the kick sent me sprawling to my knees. My right arm hit the hard tile floor, and the bones that had just been set dislocated again, letting out a dull crunch that set my teeth on edge. Cold sweat instantly drenched my entire body. I writhed on the floor in pain, even my breath tasting of blood. Leo held Summer, whose forehead was bleeding, and looked down at me, writhing in pain, his eyes cold as knives. “Stella, you’re hopeless! Get out of Redline now! I never want to see you again!” I don’t know how I walked out of the Redline team’s base. The excruciating pain in my right arm almost made me lose consciousness; every step felt like dancing on the edge of a knife. Seeing my condition, the bodyguards immediately stepped forward to support me and took me back to Vincent’s private hospital. After an emergency examination, Professor Miller looked at the X-rays, his face extremely grim. “Secondary dislocation, bone fragments have pierced the nerve. Stella, I need to operate on you immediately, but even if the surgery is successful, your chances of returning to peak condition are… less than twenty percent.” Less than twenty percent. Those words hit my heart like a death sentence. I closed my eyes. “Do it. Even if it’s only ten percent, I have to try.” The surgery lasted a full ten hours. When I woke up again, my right arm was rigidly immobilized with thick metal plates and a cast. Vincent stood by the window, an unlit cigarette between his fingers, his back exuding a chilling aura. “Leo did this?” He turned, a bloodthirsty storm brewing in his deep eyes. I didn’t speak, just stared silently at the ceiling. “I’ll make him pay.” Vincent crushed the cigarette in his palm, his voice icy cold. “No need,” I said. “Mr. King, this is between him and me. I’ll use my achievements on the track to personally crush the Redline team.” Vincent looked at me, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Good. I’ll be waiting.” Over the next month, I began hellish physical therapy. Every stretch was agonizing. I bit through countless wooden sticks, sweat and tears mixing, yet I never once asked to stop.

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I was touching up my lipstick when Nathan walked into the private suite of our engagement party, bringing that financially struggling college classmate with him. “Chloe accidentally got her dress dirty. Could you lend her yours for a bit?” He said, and after I froze for a few seconds, he added, “Everyone knows you’re the star today. It doesn’t matter what you wear.” A girl stood by the door, her canvas shoes worn white from washing, timidly saying hello. Tara stepped in front of me. “This is Summer’s engagement party! She went to thirty stores to find this dress!” Nathan glanced at me. It had been five years. Every time he looked at me with that gaze, I’d give in. I gently pushed Tara back, slowly closing my lipstick cap. “Let her wear it.” Nathan patted my head, satisfied. “I knew you’d be the most understanding. On our wedding day, I’ll buy you the best gown.” Chloe changed into my engagement dress. Nathan knelt down to adjust her hem. He whispered to Chloe, “You look beautiful.” I’d seen that gesture before. During our wedding photo shoot, the photographer asked him to do it, and he said it was “too cheesy.” I slipped off my engagement ring. This time, I wasn’t going to be “understanding” anymore. “She does look beautiful,” Nathan’s aunt said from a nearby table, taking Chloe’s hand and looking her up and down. Chloe lowered her head, a slight smile on her lips. Before she could speak, Nathan chimed in from beside her. “Chloe is a classmate of mine. Her family isn’t well-off. She got her dress dirty, and Summer felt bad for her, so she offered her own dress.” His aunt nodded, then cast a glance at me. “Then why is Summer dressed like that today? It’s her engagement party, she looks a bit plain.” “She doesn’t care about these things,” Nathan answered for me, casually putting an arm around my shoulder. “Summer is the most generous person.” As his hand landed, I took half a step back, and his arm fell short. “What’s wrong?” I lowered my eyes. “Nothing.” Tara grabbed my arm from behind, pulling me to the corner of the hallway. “Are you just going to let it go?” “What else can I do?” “You go out there and tell everyone that’s your dress, and that woman isn’t his fiancée—you are!” I looked at her reddened eyes. “Tara, you’re more upset than I am.” “How can I not be upset?” Tara’s voice was hoarse. “Do you know what the people at his table were saying just now?” She pulled out her phone and played a video. It was taken by Nathan’s college classmates. In the video, Chloe, wearing my dress, stood to Nathan’s right, his hand resting on her lower back. Someone cheered, “So beautiful!” Chloe lowered her head, blushing. She didn’t deny it. Nathan didn’t deny it either, just smiled and waved his hand. Below the video was a comment: “Nathan’s fiancée is so pure.” Thirty-plus likes, no one objected. I swallowed the bitterness in my heart, turned off the video, and handed the phone back to Tara. A new round of laughter erupted from the ballroom. Chloe was being pulled around for toasts, handling herself gracefully, leaning slightly as she held her glass. I had taught her that posture. Last month, she said she was nervous about attending a formal event for the first time and asked me how to hold a glass. I practiced with her all afternoon. “Could you call me a ride, Tara?” “You’re not going back in?” “There’s nothing left to go in for.” I went back to the guest book table and placed my ring beside the guestbook. A thin layer of dust covered the table, and the ring made a soft clink as it landed. My phone lit up. It was Nathan’s Ins post. “Thanks to everyone for coming tonight.” He attached three photos. One was a panoramic view of the ballroom, one was him toasting with friends, and the last one… Chloe, wearing my dress, smiling with crescent eyes. He tagged Chloe. The caption read: “Thanks, Chloe, for helping entertain guests. You worked hard.” The entire post didn’t mention me. Not even my name. I turned off the screen. When I reached the other side of the road, the lights of the ballroom were still bright. Even from far away, I could faintly hear music and laughter. Before getting into the car, I looked back once. Nathan stood on the steps of the hotel entrance, looking down at his phone. Chloe walked out from behind him and gently draped a jacket over his shoulders. He raised a hand to adjust his collar. The movement was natural.

“Summer, you left your ring at the guest book table.” Nathan’s call came at 2 AM, his voice unhurried. “I know.” “I’ve kept it for you. I’ll put it on you tomorrow.” He paused, then softened his tone. “I know I put you in a tough spot today. Chloe’s dress getting dirty really was an accident, and everyone saw how kind you were to lend her yours.” “Nathan, let’s break up.” Silence for three seconds on the other end. Then he chuckled softly. “Summer, I know you were hurt today, but breaking up? Is it really that serious?” “I’m serious.” “You always say we should break up when you’re upset.” He lowered his voice, with his usual patience. “Alright, when you’ve cooled off, call me. I’ll come pick you up.” “Nathan…” “Summer, be a good girl. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to that Japanese restaurant you wanted to try last time.” I didn’t continue speaking. After a few seconds of silence, his voice deepened. “Summer, it’s been five years. When will you ever really be able to leave me?” His words were soft, but I couldn’t answer. He truly didn’t believe it, didn’t believe I would leave. I hung up. Tara came out of the kitchen with a glass of water and sat opposite me. “What did he say?” “He said he’s coming to pick me up.” “Are you going?” “No.” She started to say something, then saw my expression and swallowed it back. I stared at my phone screen. At the top of the call log was his name, saved five years ago as “Nathan,” with a little sun emoji next to it. We had just started dating then. He waited for me by the college gate, holding a box of fried chicken. The November wind was cold, and the steam from the chicken scattered several times. He said, “Your roommate told me you take the long way every day just to pass a fried chicken place.” I said, “It’s too expensive, $10 a piece.” He laughed and pressed it into my hand. “From now on, tell me whatever you want to eat, whether it’s $10 or $100.” His eyes were so bright back then, they made me feel safe. Tara suddenly spoke. “Do you remember when he started changing?” I thought for a long time. “I don’t.” Maybe it was the first day Chloe appeared, her eyes red, saying she couldn’t afford her tuition. Maybe it was the first time he told me to “go easy on her.” The change was too slow. Just a little bit less each day, until I looked back, and there was nothing left. Tara tucked the blanket around me. “Don’t go back. Just stay here.” “Okay.” At 3 AM, another call came from him. The screen lit up for three seconds, then went dark. He didn’t call again. Because in his world, I’d be mad for one night, and when the sun rose, I’d go home willingly. Just like every time before. I pressed ignore on that call. This was the first time in five years.

“Tara, let me in.” The next evening, Nathan stood at Tara’s doorstep, holding a white paper bag. Tara blocked the door. “She doesn’t want to see you.” “I know she’s angry.” He smiled. “Just let me in to say a couple of words, then I’ll leave.” “Say what? That you didn’t even mention her name in your Ins post?” Nathan’s smile faltered for a moment. “Tara, this is between Summer and me.” “You two have already broken up. Don’t bother Summer anymore.” I walked to the door and pressed down on Tara’s arm. “Tara, let him in. I’ll talk to him face-to-face.” Tara stepped aside, her gaze cold as she looked Nathan up and down. He changed his shoes and placed the paper bag on the table. It was a box of cake. “Your favorite chestnut cake. I didn’t get a chance to give it to you yesterday.” I didn’t open it. He sat opposite me. “Summer, what exactly do you want me to do?” “I told you, break up.” His brows furrowed. “You’re breaking up over a dress?” “It’s not about a dress.” “Then what is it about?” He clasped his hands on the table, a posture identical to every time I’d thrown a fit before, cooperative and patient, waiting for me to finish speaking. “Last year, for your birthday, I booked a restaurant two months in advance. Before we left, Chloe called saying she had a stomachache, so you drove to her place first.” “She was alone then. What if something happened?” “You got there and found out she’d just eaten too much, and then you spent the whole evening watching TV with her, while I waited alone at the restaurant until closing time.” He paused. “Didn’t I apologize for that? I even bought you a necklace.” “You bought her the same necklace, didn’t you?” “She was just feeling down at the time…” “She’s always feeling down.” My voice was low, yet strangely steady. “When is she not feeling down?” Nathan fell silent. “Last month, on your business trip, you made me take a taxi to the airport by myself. Because you had to drive Chloe to move into her new apartment.” He opened his mouth. “She had a lot of bags…” “You gave her the special blanket from our home. The one my mom sent from back home.” “That one was old. I’ll buy you a new one.” “That was my blanket! My mom spent a week knitting it with her reading glasses on, and she packed it in three layers when she sent it, afraid the stitches would get damaged on the way.” The room grew quiet. Tara stood by the kitchen door, her knuckles white. I didn’t cry. Before, I would cry, my eyes red, asking him why, then choosing to forgive him after he said, “I was wrong.” But this time, I was just so tired. “Summer.” Nathan’s voice deepened, tinged with subtle disappointment. “I always thought you were different from them.” “Them?” “Those who fuss over every little thing.” He frowned, looking at me earnestly. “I thought you understood me. Chloe has no one else to rely on. You have me, you have your family, you lack nothing… What’s wrong with me taking care of her a little more?” He spoke sincerely, every word from the heart. “You have everything, can’t you just let someone who has nothing have a little something?” I looked at him. For a long time. There was even an expectation in his eyes, expecting me to nod as usual, to say yes. But among the things I had, one was called Nathan. He was slowly moving himself, piece by piece, to someone else, yet he asked me why I felt like something was missing. “Nathan, you’re right. I have everything.” He visibly relaxed. “So you, I can do without too.” The smile vanished from his face. “Summer.” “You weren’t like this before.” I didn’t answer. He stood up, pulled open the door, and walked out. My gaze fell on the cake box on the table. Chestnut cake. He didn’t remember anymore. My favorite flavor had changed since last year.

The wedding dress in the mirror suited me well. My mom from behind me adjusted my veil, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening with her smile. “When will Nathan be here? I haven’t seen him in over half a year.” I looked at my phone screen. Ten minutes ago, Nathan had replied to my message. “Chloe lost her graduation thesis data and is crying in her advisor’s office. I need to go help her sort it out.” “You go ahead and try on the dress. Explain it nicely to your mom. She’s always been fond of me, she’ll definitely understand. Tonight, I’ve booked your mom’s favorite upscale restaurant to make it up to her.” My mom had just had minor heart surgery last month, so I hadn’t told her about Nathan and me. I turned off the screen and turned around. “Mom, he has an urgent company meeting and can’t make it.” My mom paused, then smiled and patted my hand. “Work is important. It’s good for a man to be ambitious. You just need to look good in the dress. Come, let Mom take more pictures of you.” Click. In the photo, I was wearing a white wedding dress, smiling, but there was no light in my eyes. After putting her on the train back home, I went to Tara’s place. Sitting on the couch, I called the wedding planner. “Hello, I’d like to cancel my reservation for the Clear Lake Chapel.” The person on the other end paused. “Ms. Smith, that venue is booked eight months in advance, and the $12,000 deposit is non-refundable. Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure.” “You came here over a dozen times before, always so meticulous. Our designer said you put so much thought into it…” “Please cancel it. Thank you.” I hung up. Tara sat at the other end of the couch. “Are you really sure?” “Yes.” That chapel was forty miles outside the city. There was no direct subway; you had to transfer two buses and then walk for twenty minutes. I chose it because there was a lake nearby. Five years ago, the first time Nathan took me out, it was to that lake. He spent an entire afternoon taking photos of me by the lake. He said, “This is our secret spot.” The decoration plan was something I had worked through, draft by draft, with the designer. For the table flowers, I chose white magnolias… his mom liked simple elegance. The song played during the ceremony was the one we heard at a coffee shop on our first date. I drew the seating chart myself, coloring it with markers: blue for his guests, pink for mine. His college roommate had a fear of heights, so I specifically arranged a window seat for him on the first floor. Nathan had never asked about any of these details. “Summer, if you want to cry, just cry,” Tara said. I shook my head. I really felt like I couldn’t cry anymore. Tara received a call from Nathan while she was revising a proposal at work. “Summer’s phone is off. Could you tell her something for me?” Tara put down her pen. “What is it?” “Chloe needs to take her graduation photos next month and wants to find a unique location.” His tone was casual, as if discussing a minor chore. “I remembered the chapel Summer booked. The lakeside view is nice. Could she put in a good word for me to borrow it for a day?” Tara gripped her phone, her knuckles slowly tightening. “Nathan. That venue has already been canceled…”

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My cousin, Ivy, is thirty, but every holiday season, she’s still made to perform for our older relatives in ridiculous costumes. I’ve told Ivy more than once, “You’re thirty, you’re an adult. You don’t have to act like a kid and do everything the elders say.” But every time, Ivy never dared to defy them. Until this year, when she prepared another monkey costume for a performance. I originally planned to just let it go. But then she directly put the monkey costume on my six-year-old daughter, Lily. “This year, it’s our little Lily’s turn to show respect to the elders!” I stared, aghast, at my cousin, who was acting like a minion serving her masters by dragging others down, and at all the smug-faced elders in the room. A wave of sorrow and anger washed over me. Without hesitation, I ripped the monkey costume off Lily, took her hand, and walked out. “A room full of people, hundreds of years old combined, and you still love watching others act like monkeys.” “Whoever wants to play the monkey can do it. But my daughter and I are done with it.”

The faces of everyone in the room immediately darkened. My uncle, Michael, slammed his hand on the table. “What kind of attitude is that?! It’s the holidays, you have no respect!” I looked at him, speaking calmly and clearly, “If your ‘respect’ means preying on children for your amusement, then I’m sorry, but I have my own rules.” With that, I led Lily out the door. Lily’s small hand was clenched tightly in mine; I could feel her unease. Since my parents passed away, I rarely brought Lily home for the holidays. Maintaining superficial contact all these years was purely out of respect for my parents, to save them face. And also to inquire about Lily’s kindergarten enrollment. But if they thought they could use that to control me, they were gravely mistaken. Just as we reached the doorstep, Ivy ran after us. She grabbed my arm. “Sarah, don’t be like this. It’s the holidays, let’s not make everyone unhappy.” Her tone was gentle, but I could see calculation in her eyes. I knew her too well. Thirty years old and still clinging to mommy’s apron strings? All because Uncle Michael promised her an old house, right? “Sarah…” I cut her off directly. “Ivy, if you want that old house, if you want to play dumb and be a ‘filial’ daughter, that’s your business.” “Even if you’re fifty and still haven’t cut the cord, I won’t care. But you’re dragging my six-year-old daughter into this? Are you seriously acting like a minion now, trying to find new victims?” Hearing “cut the cord” and “minion,” Ivy’s face flushed instantly. I couldn’t be bothered to waste any more words on her. I picked up Lily and headed for her car seat in the back. But Ivy quickly followed, her voice rising, sharp and shrill. “What are you trying to prove, acting so high and mighty? You only came back because you’re hoping Uncle Michael will help your daughter get into that elite elementary school, right?! Now you’re pretending to be some independent modern woman!” I buckled Lily into her seat, gently stroked her head, and prepared to drive off. I was truly too lazy to argue with someone so foolish. But Ivy wouldn’t give up. She still clung to my car window, gritting her teeth. “Sarah! For that school spot, I don’t believe you won’t back down!” I glanced at her in the rearview mirror, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “Family help is just a backup plan. If I really want my daughter to get in, I can just buy her a spot.” “I don’t need to be like you, thirty years old, and can’t fight for anything yourself except acting like a monkey.” Ivy’s face turned from green to white; she was clearly deeply stung. “What’s so great about you?! You just married a good husband, your parents died early and left you an inheritance. You just got lucky with where you were born!” I stepped on the gas, and before the window fully closed, I threw her a final line. “If you can’t stand me, you can go get yourself a better life, then. It’s not too late to try again.” The window closed. In the rearview mirror, Ivy stood frozen. Then she suddenly squatted down, covering her face and weeping. Lily, in the backseat, peered through the window at her aunt getting smaller in the distance. She quietly asked me, “Mommy, Aunt Ivy is crying. Aren’t we going to help her?” I took a deep breath, offering Lily a gentle smile through the rearview mirror. “Honey, she’s not crying because she’s sad. She’s crying because her designated victim was gone. And that victim was supposed to be us.” Lily nodded, seeming to understand and not understand at the same time. “Then, Mommy, we won’t be a designated victim.” “That’s right, we absolutely won’t.” By the time we got home, darkness had completely fallen. My husband was back in his hometown for the holidays, so it was just Lily and me at home. The house felt empty, but free of the fake and ridiculous family drama, which brought me a sense of peace. After tucking Lily into bed, a flurry of abusive messages from relatives popped up on my phone. I scrolled through them emotionlessly, but then a new message caught my eye. It was from Principal Davies of the elite elementary school. “Lily’s Mom, Happy Holidays.” “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I need to inform you about something. Our Lily’s admission assessment wasn’t approved. You might want to look into other schools.” I stared at the screen. It was the evening of New Year’s Day, nine o’clock. The principal of an elementary school personally messaging me during the holidays to reject my daughter’s admission. There’s no such thing as coincidence in this world.

My mind flashed with the smug faces of Uncle Michael and Aunt Brenda, and Ivy’s shouting. So, this was their plan. To use what I cared about most to force me to humble myself. I gave a cold laugh. They had definitely messed with the wrong person. To avoid misdirected retaliation, I politely replied to Principal Davies, “May I ask, specifically, what aspect of Lily’s application wasn’t approved?” He quickly replied, “Lily’s Mom, our elite elementary school values not only a child’s inherent qualities but also places great importance on evaluating the family environment.” “After our background check on your family elders, we found that there might be some disharmony and lack of filial piety within your family. Therefore, overall, it’s deemed not very suitable.” Reading those lines, I almost laughed in anger. It was them, all right, using the excuse of family disharmony. So, “disharmony and lack of filial piety” meant that Lily and I didn’t perform monkey tricks for a bunch of old geezers on New Year’s Day, like Ivy did? Were we supposed to be obedient, act like clowns, and maybe even bow down to them? I took a deep breath and immediately called Ethan. I recounted everything that happened tonight, word for word. On the other end of the line, Ethan’s breathing noticeably deepened. “They’re using Lily’s admission to threaten you?” His voice dropped, but his tone was resolute. “Honey, you don’t have to worry about this. I’ll handle Lily’s admission.” “Elite elementary school, right? Perfect. Our group has a major cooperation project with the city council recently. First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll have my assistant contact the director. “I want to see who dares to block my daughter, Lily’s, admission review when all her paperwork is in order.” My heart settled quite a bit, but I still cautioned, “Don’t be too impulsive. We have the moral high ground, so just follow proper procedures.” “Don’t worry, your husband here is the most reasonable man. But if someone isn’t reasonable, then I’ll make sure they know what they’re up against.” After hanging up, I felt much more at ease. But then, group messages started popping up again. I opened the “Happy Family” SnapChat group, and it was already in an uproar. Ivy was wailing and crying, sending many photos of her torn clothes and scarf. “I know Sarah doesn’t like me, but during the holidays, to lay hands on me in front of a child, how can I bear it…” She was acting so sincerely, crying real tears. Uncle Michael directly tagged me, cursing me for having no upbringing. Aunt Brenda also complained tearfully, demanding I apologize. I looked at the family of drama queens, at their familiar tactics and accusations. I typed out a reply and sent it, “She was clinging to my car window and wouldn’t let go, she ripped her own clothes. What does that have to do with me?” After my reply, the accusations in the group became even more intense. They even started to escalate, cursing my deceased parents for not raising me properly. I clenched my fists, then sent one last reply, “Is your ‘upbringing’ conspiring with outsiders to use a child’s school admission to force a junior to bow down? Fine, then I’ll find some ‘outsiders’ to judge fairly as well.” After sending it, without waiting for their reactions, I directly left the group. Once the world was quiet again, I immediately opened my phone’s photo album and found all those videos accumulated over the years. They were videos of Ivy, over the years, wearing ridiculous floral jackets and various weird costumes, wiggling her butt and making the elders clap and laugh. And also the chat logs from the family group just now. I bundled them all up and sent them to the most popular local news exposé account. With the caption, “Feudal elders force junior to act like a fool every year for ‘filial piety,’ threatening a child’s future if they don’t comply.” “Videos and chat logs as proof, asking for exposure.” I tapped my finger, and it was sent successfully.

The next day, the second day of the holidays. Lily and I woke up naturally, watched TV together, and did crafts. With no fake relatives and no drama, the house was filled with joyous laughter. Around noon, my phone started vibrating like crazy. Notifications from various social media apps rang like mad. I tapped on the notifications and saw a trending topic at the top of Ins’s local feed: “Thirty-Year-Old Daughter Forced to Act Like Monkey for Elders’ Filial Piety” I clicked on it, and the pinned post was the full video and long screenshot of the chat logs from the news exposé account. In the video, Ivy, wearing that ridiculous floral cotton jacket and monkey costume, twisted and contorted amidst the elders’ laughter. Scene after scene, like loud slaps, landed squarely on Ivy and those old folks’ faces. The comment section was even wilder: “It’s 2026, and we still have these feudal relics? Seriously laughable. How empty must a house full of old people be to need to humiliate juniors for validation?” “Sucking the life out of juniors, trampling on their dignity—is that what these people want?” “That woman is also a minion. She’s been kneeling for so long, now she wants to drag others down too, disgusting!” “Am I the only one who noticed the six-year-old girl? If her mom wasn’t tough, she would have been the next one forced to wear the monkey costume!” As the trending topic’s popularity exploded, insiders also started to come forward with information. “This family’s surname is Davies, locally known as a supposedly refined and educated background. But their ancestral home was strictly passed down only to male heirs. The daughter in the video probably wants to fight for the family property so badly it’s driven her crazy.” The netizens went even wilder. “Monkey family,” “patriarchal,” and other keywords were repeatedly mentioned, spreading like a virus. The family’s good name, which they had boasted about for decades in the local area, was completely ruined within a few hours. My phone started being bombarded by unknown numbers. I randomly answered one, and it was Ivy’s hysterical wailing. “Sarah! Are you crazy?! My reputation is utterly ruined because of you, take the video down right now! Hurry!” “Now all the netizens are calling me a joke, saying such awful things, it’s all your fault! All your fault!” I listened to her screaming calmly. Only when she was tired of cursing did I speak, calmly. “Ivy, you wore the outlandish costumes yourself, you agreed to let them film the video yourself, and you willingly performed. What does that have to do with me?” She immediately acted as if she’d been wronged, crying even harder. “But I was forced! You think I wanted to?!” “So, you came to force my daughter?” Without waiting for her to wail again, I hung up. Looking at the torrent of abusive messages flooding my apps—things like calling me an unfilial descendant, saying I’d ruined the family. Some even threatened that my daughter and I would die horrible deaths. My heart remained unmoved. I sent one unified reply, “When you put that monkey costume on my daughter, you should have known this day would come. If you touch my daughter again, I’ll show you what hell on earth truly means.” Then, I blocked every number and account I could. The world was quiet once more. Over the next two days, Lily and I waited for Ethan to come home, enjoying the most peaceful New Year we’d ever had. However, early on the morning of the fourth day of the holidays, Lily and I were woken by a rough banging and smashing sound. I comforted Lily, then peered through the peephole. Uncle Michael and Ivy stood outside, looking furious and menacing. “Sarah, you get your ass out here! You’ve gone too far, you have to take that video down today! Otherwise, I’ll smash this damn door down!” Behind him was a dark mass of relatives. “Sarah! You ungrateful wretch! How can you still hide like a coward after airing such dirty laundry?” Ivy also cried out, “Cousin, how could you ruin me! Are you satisfied now that you’ve ruined the whole family?!” Then she theatrically slumped to the ground. “You take the video down right now, or I’ll die right here at your door!” I watched her exaggerated performance, and the last shred of pity in my heart dissolved. She had been completely assimilated by the elders, willingly becoming part of this rotten system, even trying to drag my daughter into it. But since this was her choice, she shouldn’t blame me for showing no mercy when I dealt with her.

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On Christmas Day, my best friend, Sarah, had just popped open a bottle of champagne. Then my husband’s call came in: “Olivia, hurry home! Sophia’s depression flared up, and she’s threatening to jump!” “She won’t listen to anything we say. She insists she’ll only come down from the balcony if her mom comes back.” Sarah’s hand, reaching for the champagne, instantly dropped. She turned to grab her car keys from the table. I pressed down on her hand, a soft smile on my lips as I replied: “If she wants to die, let her.” Then I hung up, ignoring my phone as it buzzed relentlessly. Sarah looked frantic. “You’ve loved Chloe so much since she was little! You can’t play games with her life, even if you’re mad at her!” I looked at her, and softly spoke a single sentence. The next second, Sarah’s expression changed. “It wouldn’t be too much if that whole family dropped dead!” Seeing that my call wouldn’t go through, Ethan called Sarah’s phone instead. Sarah turned her phone towards me. Only after I nodded did she hit “answer.” As soon as the call connected, Ethan’s furious voice came through the speaker: “Olivia Hayes, what was that supposed to mean!” He aimed the phone’s camera at Sophia on the balcony, gasping for breath as he spoke: “Look at your daughter! Her life’s hanging by a thread right now. How could you say something like that?” Sophia, in the video, sat on the balcony railing, her eyes swollen and red from crying. She looked as though she could fall at any moment. Dressed in a thin shirt, her hands and face were chapped and red from the biting cold wind. The camera shifted, and Ethan roared at the screen: “Get back here from Sarah Miller’s place immediately, or if anything happens to Sophia, I swear I’ll never forgive you!” I watched Ethan’s frantic face and chuckled. “Impossible.” Ethan’s eyes on the screen instantly widened. “I’m not coming back. As for whether Sophia jumps or not, it has nothing to do with me.” With that, I hung up. I lowered my head and started preparing holiday dinner with Sarah. Just as I finished peeling a potato, my “emergency contact” ringtone echoed from the living room. Seeing “Mom” on the screen, my heart sank. “Olivia, Ethan just called me. He said Sophia’s acting up again and demanding you come home.” Her voice was laced with worry. “Ethan was crying, saying you’d rather let Sophia die than come back. What’s going on?” Ever since Chloe was born, my mom had doted on her, treating her like the apple of her eye. After Chloe developed depression and was constantly threatening to commit suicide, Mom’s heart ached even more. Mom’s voice choked as she pleaded: “Please, for your mother’s sake, will you go back?” “Mom loves Chloe the most. If something really happens, how am I supposed to live the rest of my life…?” Hearing her words, I spoke with difficulty. “Mom, I really can’t go back.” Seeing that I wouldn’t budge, Mom’s voice turned cold. “Olivia Hayes, how can you be so heartless? She’s your own flesh and blood.” “If you don’t come back today, don’t bother calling me your mother!” I gripped the phone, sighed, and slowly began to explain everything to her. … When I finished, Mom gasped in disbelief. “What!” After a long silence, she spoke again, her voice filled with unconcealed rage: “I’m blocking all contact from that Ethan guy right now! To crush his plan of using me to threaten you!” “Don’t worry, Olivia, Mom will always be your strongest backup.” Just as that call ended, Sarah’s gasp rang out from beside me. Sarah’s hand trembled as she handed me her phone. “Olivia, this is bad! Ethan went live…” “The live stream title is—” She looked up, her eyes wide with panic: “To Save My Depressed Daughter, Crowdsourcing Help to Find Her Mother.”

I clicked into the live stream. Thanks to the trending Christmas buzz, the viewer count in the top right corner soared. “What kind of father is this? His daughter’s about to jump in the background, and he’s got time to go live?” “He can’t find his wife himself, so he asks strangers for help? Are we his free labor?” “If she’s going to jump, call the police and firefighters! What’s the point of a live stream? Is he just trying to go viral?” Ethan ignored the screen full of doubts and spoke, sobbing: “My decision to go live today truly comes from a place of desperation…” “My daughter, Sophia, developed severe depression after experiencing a period of intense bullying in middle school.” He pointed the phone at Sophia, still on the balcony. Sophia was now sitting even further out, her face smeared with tears and hair sticking to her cheeks. She wildly waved away Ethan’s mom, who was trying to approach her: “I don’t want you! I only want Mom!” “If I don’t see Mom before midnight, I’m jumping!” Sophia’s words were clearly recorded by the live stream camera. “My daughter ran out to the balcony around nine PM and has been repeatedly saying she won’t come down unless she sees her mom. If anyone gets close, she threatens to jump.” “It’s been over an hour now, and she’s still sitting there…” Ethan placed his phone back on the stand, covering his face in anguish. “But, but… no matter how much I pleaded with her mother, she still refuses to come back.” “I know she thinks Sophia’s depression is a burden, but watching your child die, it’s just too cruel.” I typed a comment, intrigued: “You say her mom won’t come back. Do you have proof?” My comment influenced others below me, who also began to question: “Yeah, yeah, internet trends change too fast these days. Just saying her mom won’t come back isn’t credible enough.” “I just can’t believe a mother would be so heartless as to abandon her own daughter. Mothers love their children most of all!” Ethan caught sight of the comments’ skepticism and pulled another phone from his pocket. “I understand everyone’s doubts, but thankfully, I always record my calls.” My heart sank. Sure enough, as his finger pressed play, my words from an hour ago were repeatedly broadcast in the live stream. That line, “As for whether Sophia jumps or not, it has nothing to do with me,” was played a full five times by Ethan! Only when he saw the live chat comments completely turn to condemnation of me did he contentedly lower his phone. With red-rimmed eyes, he looked into the camera. “I truly couldn’t think of any other way, which is why I resorted to this and bothered everyone…” He clasped his hands together and knelt before the camera. “Please, everyone, help me with any clues to find her, so my daughter can have a peaceful New Year.” The comments were swayed by his emotion: “Don’t worry, buddy. Give us some clues. With so many of us, how can we not find her?” “I’ve never failed to find someone online. Don’t worry, man, your daughter will have a good year.” “I’m also a mother of a child with depression. How could this woman be so malicious? She doesn’t deserve to be a mother!” Ethan pulled out a photo of Sarah and me from his phone. “On the left is my wife, Olivia Hayes, and on the right is her best friend, Sarah Miller.” “They’re together celebrating the holidays now, but I don’t know where her best friend lives…” In the background, Sophia’s cries grew louder. Ethan pleaded earnestly, “Please, everyone, you must help me find her.”

At the same time, my phone was immediately bombarded with messages. My boss, colleagues, and old classmates I hadn’t spoken to in years all sent me texts inquiring. The content was nearly identical, mostly “Olivia, is it really true what your husband is saying?” Or “I can’t believe I know such a despicable person, I’m truly terrible at picking friends!” Ethan’s live stream had completely ignited a storm on the internet. Sarah’s and my information were quickly doxxed by netizens. Twenty minutes later, a highlighted comment appeared in the live stream: “That Sarah Miller is my neighbor! She lives at Parkview Apartments, Building 11, Apartment 302.” I looked at that comment, my body shaking uncontrollably. Because Sarah and I were currently staying at Parkview Apartments, Building 11, Apartment 302! Sarah’s face was even whiter than mine. She pointed at the comment. “Olivia… I don’t have neighbors.” The warm air from the AC blew on me, but Sarah’s words left my back drenched in a cold sweat. If she didn’t have neighbors, then who could this person be? As our address was dug up, the live stream comments plunged into complete frenzy. Everyone was eagerly anticipating how “they” would “deal with” a villain like me after the daughter was rescued from the balcony. Just then, Sarah’s phone suddenly rang with an urgent alarm. Afraid she’d be startled, I took her phone and first saw the content on the screen. With just that one glance, my grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white. Someone had dug up Sarah’s car license plate number. Then, using the leaked apartment complex name, they went specifically to the building’s parking garage. They found Sarah’s car, parked in the underground garage. And maliciously splashed it with a bucket of animal blood and guts! Pig lungs and liver were hung on the car windows, leaving disgusting smears. It was her brand-new car, bought just last month. A wave of fury consumed my mind. I looked at Ethan on my phone, still endlessly thanking the comments. I scrolled to the bottom of the screen and initiated a “request to join live stream.” I knew that if I didn’t appear soon. They dared to vandalize the car this step, next they’d dare to smash the apartment. Ethan quickly accepted my live stream request. By the time my face appeared in the live stream, the viewer count had reached 100,000! A hint of apology was on his face. “Wife, I didn’t mean to use such an extreme method to force you to appear…” “It’s just—” He aimed the camera at Sophia again. Sophia’s appearance was even more terrifying now than before. She’d gotten a razor blade from somewhere, and her right arm was already gashed and bloody. She was surrounded by police officers and medical personnel, but no one dared approach her. If this standoff continued, she’d die from blood loss even if she didn’t jump. “If you don’t come back, our daughter is really going to die.” My gaze only lingered on Sophia for a second before immediately returning to Ethan. My voice was almost flat as I spoke: “Ethan, give Sophia the phone.” Ethan looked hesitant. “I can give it to her, but wife, can you promise not to say anything to upset Sophia? Her state is really fragile right now…” “I’m giving you a choice.” I adjusted my glasses. “You can also choose not to give her the phone. But if Sophia does something because she doesn’t see me, that won’t be my fault.” Ethan was enraged by my indifferent attitude. But fearing something might truly happen to Sophia, he reluctantly slid the phone across the ground to her. Before sliding it, he threatened: “Olivia Hayes, I’m warning you. If Sophia really dies because of you.” “I won’t let you get away with it!”

As soon as Sophia picked up the phone, the frantic look on her face vanished instantly. Her complexion was pale, tears still clung to the corners of her eyes, and her lips trembled as she murmured: “Mom, why won’t you come back to see me?” “I just wanted you to hug me… will you come back?” I looked at her pitiful appearance, but my heart felt no ripple of emotion. Instead, I turned and asked a seemingly unrelated question: “Sophia, do you still remember why you got depression?” A flicker of confusion crossed Sophia’s face. “Mom, does that matter?” I looked at her sternly. “It matters.” She tightly shut her eyes, her expression instantly becoming one of profound pain, as she shook her head wildly: “Mom, I don’t want to remember, I feel so awful.” Ethan, seeing Sophia like this, roared at me from a distance: “Olivia Hayes, what are you doing? Didn’t I tell you not to upset Sophia!” “Are you deliberately trying to force our daughter to die?!” I cut him off loudly, hardening my face as I emphasized to Sophia: “Sophia, if you don’t tell me why you have depression, I will not come back.” The comments scrolled furiously across my screen: “My God, is she even human? Her daughter’s in this state, and she still wants to upset her.” “My heart aches watching this. Sophia just wants a hug from her mom, why treat her like this…” “I’m a psychology student; patients are already emotionally agitated, and forcing her to recall the cause of her illness—she’s trying to force her daughter to die!” “Can someone arrest this mother? She’s disgusting, how is this any different from intentional murder!” Sophia’s eyebrows furrowed, and she painfully opened her mouth, speaking with great difficulty: “It’s because, in eighth grade, some girls in my class started ganging up on me.” “They forced me to give them ten dollars every day. If I didn’t, they’d find people to corner me in an alley after school.” As she spoke, her body trembled even more violently. “One day, they even… in the alley…” At this point, Sophia was utterly overcome with pain and lost her voice. But I wasn’t satisfied and pressed on: “What did they do to you in the alley!” Ethan couldn’t bear to listen, yelling furiously from the perimeter, his voice distorted: “Enough, Olivia Hayes!” “We both saw the surveillance footage from that day in the alley; we both know exactly what happened! Why do you insist on asking?” “Didn’t you yourself propose a pact that day? This incident, it would disappear from our home, and no one would ever mention it again.” He shrieked: “Are you only satisfied if you force Sophia to die today…?” “Is this how you’re a mother? I truly misjudged you!” Sophia opened her eyes, raised the phone, and asked me pleadingly: “Mom, I’ve told you everything. Can you come back now?” “Normally, if I just got a cut, you’d be so worried, looking everywhere for bandages. How have you changed now…” I stared at her coldly, and the words I spoke made everyone’s faces change. “No.” I added: “Even if you die here today, I will not come back.” Then, silently, I mouthed something to her. After seeing what I mouthed, Sophia’s lips trembled, and her eyes filled with shock. In an instant, before anyone could react. She threw the phone away, swayed backward, and with a decisive fall, plunged towards the ground below.

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My vacation home. At the dinner table, the elders in my family started asking about my job in the city. “Just running a small business,” I answered casually. Hearing that, my cousin, Tiffany, sitting across from me, let out a snort. “So, selling yourself counts as a business now?” “I even saw your price list online. Quite the menu of services you’ve got there.” After getting everyone’s attention, she feigned magnanimity. “Every job has its dignity. We wouldn’t look down on you just because your profession is… humble.” Egging them on, she turned me into the target of everyone’s accusations. Without missing a beat, I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Pull the funding. I want her completely bankrupt.” Every time I came home for the holidays, I had to face another interrogation from my relatives. I’ve never liked sharing details about my life, so when Aunt Sarah asked about my job in Metropolis City, I just brushed her off. “Oh, just running a small business in the city.” “A business? That’s great! Not like your cousin Leo, who works for someone else, pulling all-nighters just to make a few grand.” “Ashley, you’re so capable, why don’t you help your cousins find jobs?” I felt a wave of awkwardness. But my dad jumped in before I could speak. “No problem! Leave it all to Ashley!” I immediately put down my forks, just about to explain that my “business” was just selling stuff at a flea market, when Tiffany, who had been quietly scrolling on her phone across the table, suddenly burst into laughter. “Seriously, the world is falling apart. Anyone can claim to be a businesswoman now. By that logic, back in the day, wouldn’t all the call girls have been entrepreneurs?” “Tiffany, what are you implying?” “How can you compare your cousin to… well, to *that*? That’s so disrespectful, apologize to Ashley.” I thought the elders were reasonable, that they would side with me. But I quickly realized I was wrong. “I’m not making things up. I’m not the one selling myself in the city, so why should I apologize?” Tiffany said, opening a photo and shoving it in front of Uncle Robert, who had spoken up for me. “Uncle Robert, look, isn’t this Ashley Miller in the picture?” I couldn’t see what was on the photo, but the sudden, strange looks from everyone made me realize the seriousness of the situation. The phone started passing from Uncle Robert’s hand, to Aunt Emily, then to Aunt Carol, and finally landed in my dad’s hands. Before I could say a word, a stinging slap landed on my face. My dad pointed at me, spitting as he yelled, “You shameless brat!” “Don’t hit our daughter!” My mom rushed to shield me, but no sooner had she spoken than my dad handed her the phone. “See for yourself what Ashley Miller is doing out there!” My mom took the phone, skepticism on her face, but her expression instantly turned serious, then morphed into fury. If I hadn’t ducked quickly, the cup in my mom’s hand would have shattered against my head. Slapped and almost hit with a cup for no reason, and then publicly cursed out by so many relatives, I was still completely bewildered. It wasn’t until Tiffany feigned concern, stepping forward to intervene, and said, covering her mouth, “I’m so sorry, so sorry. It’s all my fault for speaking up. I just assumed you all knew about Ashley’s… activities.” “What activities?!” “Don’t pretend. I’ve seen your price list.” Tiffany glanced at me, then finally handed me the photo. [5’7”+ Milf, Cool & Elegant Vibe, Sweet & Sassy] [Online Chat Companion: $80/hour (Text/FaceTime)] [Overnight Escort: $250/night (Local, by appointment)] [Full-day Companion: $500/day (Includes city outings, overnight additional)] [Special requests and long-term arrangements by DM. Serious inquiries only.] [Contact: 132xxxxxxxxxx (State purpose, direct price inquiries will be blocked)] Looking at the content on the poster, I was dumbfounded, especially when I saw the sexy swimsuit photo in the upper right corner. A surge of confusion washed over me. This wasn’t me. “Ashley, I’m not trying to criticize you, but there’s no shame in struggling when you’re out on your own. However, a girl should cherish her body. This line of work you’ve chosen is just… too far out.” “But hey, every job has its stars, right?” “We won’t look down on you just because you’re selling yourself. To each their own, I guess.” Noticing the confusion on my face, Tiffany continued to fan the flames, explaining where she supposedly got the poster. “When my boyfriend and I were out for dinner, someone slipped a little card into our car. I didn’t pay attention at first, but then I saw the photo, and I immediately recognized you.” “I only scanned the QR code out of concern, and I never expected it was actually you offering these services.” The more Tiffany spoke, the uglier my parents’ faces became, especially my dad’s. He turned beet red with rage, grabbed a chair, and was about to throw it at me, only to be held back by the other curious relatives. The relatives and elders who had greeted me warmly upon my return were now standing with their hands on their hips, sneering at me. “Such a disgrace. And to think you even finished grad school. You just wasted all that education.” “I don’t know how David raised his daughter. So shameless for money, she became a prostitute.” Some weren’t satisfied just yelling at me. Taking advantage of the noisy crowd, someone intentionally reached out and pushed me, making me lose my balance and fall to the floor.

When I looked up, I met Tiffany’s smug gaze. She and I had been at odds since we were kids. Being around the same age, we were always compared. I was a straight-A student, always in the top three of my class, while she consistently scraped by, ending up in the worst schools. She always felt she couldn’t measure up to me, and she was desperate to catch up. The constant comparisons had driven her crazy; she started seeing me as her sole rival. Two years ago, it was because I started a job at a financial company in Metropolis City that she quit her job back home and rushed there herself. “That poster has nothing to do with me! The person in that photo isn’t me!” I yelled with all my might, but no one listened. Not even my parents wanted to hear my explanation, they were too busy fawning over Tiffany with the other relatives. “Tiffany, I heard your boyfriend is a big company CEO. He must be super rich, right?” “We always knew Tiffany was capable and successful. She really is the most impressive girl in our family, unlike Ashley Miller, who’s just disgracing us.” Tiffany basked in the attention, and her parents joined in, laughing heartily with their hands on their hips. I got up and took my mom’s hand. “Mom, believe me, it’s all fake.” But she forcefully pulled away from me, then turned and clasped Tiffany’s hand. “Tiffany, your cousin has gone down the wrong path. Please, give her a hand, help her find a decent job.” Then, my mom yanked me hard. “Come here, get on your knees and apologize to your cousin, beg her to find you a job.” Me? Kneel to *her*? “Aunt Karen, it’s not that I don’t want to, but Ashley graduated with a master’s degree. She wouldn’t look at any job that pays less than six figures. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have taken… shortcuts.” “Tiffany Brooks, why are you spreading these lies everywhere?” I pushed past a few relatives and confronted her directly. “You’re spreading baseless rumors with a photo from who knows where. Don’t you know that’s illegal?” Tiffany just gave me a helpless look. She sighed. “Ashley, why are you still so stubborn? You did it, what’s the point in denying it?” “To be honest, I have a lot more evidence. You know I’m in sales; I meet a lot of people. And it just so happens that some of them are your clients.” “You really weren’t careful, letting people take photos while you were… working.” “If those photos from your bed got out, who would ever marry you then?” Tiffany’s words immediately turned the tide again. The judgmental elders started spewing insults at me, each one righteous in their anger. But I wasn’t a lamb to be slaughtered. When someone reached out to push me again, I shoved them back. They hadn’t expected me to retaliate, stumbled, and hit a chair behind them, letting out a cry of pain. That really stirred up a hornets’ nest. Aunt Emily shrieked, “She’s out of control! Doing disgraceful things and now hitting people?!” Uncle John pointed his finger at my nose, about to start yelling, but I cut him off. “If you say you have evidence, then show it to me.” I looked at Tiffany. “But if you can’t, then it’s defamation, and I will pursue legal action.” Tiffany clearly hadn’t expected me to say that; a hint of shock flashed across her face, but she quickly recovered with a smile. “Since you have no shame, then I’ll find them and let everyone judge for themselves.” She turned and sat on the sofa, pulling out her phone and scrolling through it. But after nearly ten minutes, she found nothing. “Well? Can’t find it, can you?” “Finding stuff takes time!” Others also started defending Tiffany. I was about to snatch her phone when I was interrupted by a commotion at the door. My brother, Ben, rushed in, looking disheveled, and after a quick scan of the room, walked straight toward me. I hadn’t even gotten out a “Ben” before his hand swung, connecting with my cheek. “We paid for your education all these years, and you have no shame left?! Your damn promotional poster even got sent to my phone! Are you that desperate for money?!” My cheek stung, but seeing the look on my brother’s face at that moment, I felt an even colder pang in my heart. No one believed me. “I’m saying it again, that has nothing to do with me. It’s all malicious photo manipulation and rumors.” “Then are you going to claim this is fake too?” Tiffany sneered, walking over. “Who wants to see photos of Ashley Miller with her clients? But I’ll warn you, some of them are pretty explicit, so any elders who don’t want to see should look away.” Filled with anger, I snatched the phone from her hand and immediately saw the offensive images on the screen. A naked woman, her hair disheveled, lay on a bed. The background was blurry, but her face was clearly visible, and it was mine. My great-aunt leaned over to look, then recoiled with a disgusted expression. “That’s disgusting, Ashley! You actually do that kind of stuff!” “Enough!” I roared, taking a step back. But I quickly composed myself, showing no anger, only a relieved smile. I pulled out my phone, slowly tapping the numbers on the dial pad, and after connecting, I spoke clearly for everyone to hear, “Hello, I’d like to report a crime.” “Someone maliciously Photoshopped my image to spread explicit rumors about me. Could you please send officers over?”

As I called the police, everyone else looked at me with expressions of utter disbelief, perhaps thinking, *Why would she call the police when she’s the one who did something wrong?* Only Tiffany’s eyes began to flicker nervously. She suddenly spoke up, trying to smooth things over. “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s not a big deal. Everyone makes their own choices, you know. Aunt Karen, Uncle David, please don’t scold Ashley anymore. She’s not stealing or doing anything truly harmful; as long as she can support herself in the big city, that’s all that matters.” How grandly she spoke, without considering who started this whole mess. “Tiffany is so sensible, unlike Ashley. Not only is her behavior immoral, but she stubbornly refuses to admit her mistakes.” “How respectable is Tiffany’s profession? Can Ashley even compare? She’s a professor at Commonwealth University, you know!” I had been furious at my relatives’ words, but hearing that, my interest was suddenly piqued. “A professor at Commonwealth University?” I turned to Tiffany. “Commonwealth University is one of the top-ranked universities in the country. Its professors usually have at least a Master’s or a Ph.D. Even with relaxed requirements, they’d be specialized talents, often from abroad. Tiffany Brooks, which of those criteria do you meet?” “I…” Tiffany choked, but still insisted on her story. “Why do you care so much about my business? You haven’t even sorted out your own mess!” The others also chimed in to support Tiffany, until I proposed: “Commonwealth University’s official website lists all faculty and staff information. Since you’re officially employed there, your name should be searchable on the website, right?” Tiffany tried to stop me, but her mom and other elders held her back. “Just let her search. We have a clear conscience, after all.” Really? I opened the Commonwealth University website, browsed for two minutes, then showed them the blank search results page. “How come there’s nothing?” “Huh, what’s going on? Didn’t Tiffany say she’s been teaching at Commonwealth University for two years now?” “Yeah, she even sent me photos from her classes. Could it all be a lie?” I knew the truth: she’d spun a massive lie just to save face. But Tiffany still wouldn’t admit it. Instead, she put on a conflicted expression, then lowered her head and shyly began, “Actually, I didn’t want to say anything, but since Ashley has pushed me to this point, I have no choice but to admit it. I’m not an official full-time professor at Commonwealth University because…” “Because my boyfriend pulled some strings to get me in. My boyfriend is an entrepreneur, the sole heir of the Stone Group. He just wanted me to have an easy job.” At this, the relatives suddenly burst into laughter, but it wasn’t mocking laughter; it was full of fawning. They crowded around Tiffany and her mom, showering them with compliments. “We knew Tiffany’s boyfriend was successful, but we never knew he was *that* powerful! The Stone Group! That’s a huge company! Tiffany, you’re truly bringing honor to our family.” Tiffany deliberately looked at me, saying proudly, “Even though my boyfriend is influential, I don’t want to depend on him. I just want to focus on my career and be a strong, independent woman. How long can you bank on your youth to make money, right, Ashley?” Before I could speak, she continued her tirade. “We are sisters, after all, and we grew up together. I can’t bear to see you debase yourself.” “How about this: you cancel the police report, and I’ll have my boyfriend find you a job. Whether it’s cleaning toilets or sweeping floors at the corporation, it’s still much more respectable than selling yourself.” As soon as my parents heard Tiffany’s offer, they lunged for my phone. I dodged, but my brother charged forward with all his might and shoved me. While I was on the ground, he snatched the phone. He fumbled with it and said to me, “Are you calling the police because you think your reputation isn’t bad enough? I’m not asking you to find a good job, but please, stop disgracing yourself.” Just at that critical moment, the private room door was opened by the police. “Who called the police?”

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Ever since my mom, Brenda, became single, she turned terrifyingly obsessive. She envied her neighbor, Mrs. Henderson, who was a high-ranking executive at a big company, so Brenda started imposing strict rules at home, indulging her own power trip. She demanded I submit a formal request and wait for her approval for everything I did. One time, just because I yawned without raising my hand and yelling “Request!”, she slapped me across the face. When I had a high fever and was throwing up, she forced me to write a medical leave application, over and over again. Eighteen years by her side left me with countless psychological scars. But I also learned from her, developing my own twisted obsession with control. Later, when she was so fed up she wanted to pull out her own IV to die, I held down her arm. “Hold on.” “First, write an application.” When I was two, my dad, Robert, cheated. The woman he was with, Sarah, was a self-made businesswoman. She wasn’t particularly pretty, but she was loaded. When they divorced, Sarah even offered Brenda twenty thousand dollars, saying it was her way of buying Robert. Brenda was too proud to accept it. She threw the two stacks of cash right back at them on the spot. But two hours later, she started complaining about her unfortunate life, how she was utterly helpless without money. She kicked me, and my small body stumbled backward, hitting a table, and I started to cry. “What are you crying about?” “Your dad ran off, this family is falling apart because of you! If it weren’t for you, this dead weight, would I have to struggle like this?!” From that day on, I became her sole punching bag. I thought beatings were just a normal part of life, something I just had to endure. But then, when I was seven, a family moved in next door. They all dressed impeccably, left a trail of expensive perfume wherever they went, and always drove nice cars. I heard Mrs. Henderson, the neighbor, was a senior executive at a big company, managing a whole team of employees. Brenda’s gaze was fixed on Mrs. Henderson as if drawn by a magnet. It was hard to tell if it was envy or resentment. After that day, the air at home changed. She found an old binder somewhere, wrote “Household Management Binder” on the cover, and hung it in the most visible spot in our living room. Mimicking Mrs. Henderson’s air of authority became the most important thing in her life. And I was her only subordinate, the sole subject for her to practice these absurd rules on. When I was ten, Brenda got a new boyfriend, Gary, but he left less than a year later, leaving behind my pregnant mom and me, forced to bear all the responsibility. “It’s all because of you, you dead weight, ruining my happiness!” That day, she hung me upside down from the doorframe, lashing me with a whip, strike after strike. The louder the pleas from outside, the harder she hit. She said it was to teach me how to succeed. She only stopped when Mrs. Henderson threatened to call the police on her. But her blame towards me didn’t lessen. Brenda threw down the whip, pulled out the house rules, and flung them at my face. “Rule number three: No crying without prior notification. Your crying just now exceeded 20 decibels. As per the rules, two months of your allowance are deducted.” So for those two months, I was the class beggar. She was too busy gambling to cook for me or give me money for food. I could only scavenge leftovers from classmates to fill my stomach. Some kids, as a cruel joke, mixed dirt and spit into their leftover food. But I was too hungry. Even so, I swallowed it bite by bite. When I was twelve, the school organized a field trip, and every student had to pay fifty dollars for the activity fee. She made me submit a report beforehand. Every night after finishing my homework, I’d start writing the application. Each one was eight thousand words, and I’d write it over and over, while she tore them up one after another. It wasn’t until the field trip bus had already left the city that she finally signed the application form. Brenda, using the formal language she’d picked up from Mrs. Henderson, spoke stiffly: “Next time, make sure the format is standard. Indent the first line by two characters, and include a concluding statement at the end.” Later, my homeroom teacher noticed I’d been wearing the same frayed school uniform for an entire semester. After hearing about my situation, she secretly slipped fifty dollars to my desk-mate, telling her to “find” the money and give it to me. But when Brenda found out, she stormed into the school and made a huge scene, accusing the teacher of “inducing students to lie and undermining family rules.” She caused a fuss over a dozen times, eventually forcing the school to transfer the teacher. After that, the way all the teachers and students looked at me changed. What I didn’t realize then was that my own mindset had also subtly begun to shift.

My first strange rebellious thought came on the night Brenda’s water broke. She screamed so loudly it woke me from my sleep. She told me to call an ambulance, but I paused. I turned and picked up the house rules hanging on the wall, flipping to the third page. “But Mom, the house rules say I can’t touch a phone without submitting a request beforehand.” The consequences of breaking the rules were too severe. I couldn’t even imagine, and I was terrified of being whipped and forced to kneel again. I hated the pain. Brenda clutched her stomach, not speaking. I figured she must have implicitly agreed to the rules. “Mom, wait for me. I’ll go write the report right now.” I put down the rules, pulled a blank sheet of paper from the drawer, and started drafting: [Application for Phone Use] As soon as I wrote those seven words, I crumpled the paper and threw it away. The words weren’t centered. The second time, my handwriting wasn’t neat enough. Brenda said the font for reports had to be perfectly neat, or she’d hit my palms. So I tore it up and rewrote it. The third time, I finished the whole thing, but the format at the end wasn’t quite right… “Enough!” Brenda, with her last bit of strength, stopped me from tearing up that application. “Hand it over! I’ll sign it!” I nodded, taking tiny steps to Brenda’s side, and handed her the application. Just as she was about to sign, I pulled the pen from her hand. “Mom, the house rules specify that only a fountain pen can be used for signatures.” For my eighth-grade final exams, I needed to arrive early at school, so I wrote an application for early departure the day before, and Brenda signed it. But at the time, she claimed the pen wasn’t up to standard, hitting me for half an hour and forcing me to write a confession for two hours. By the time she finally agreed to let me leave, the morning exams were already over. I was so sure I could have gotten first place, but because I missed the exam, I ended up in the bottom ten of my class. She wasn’t happy about it. “Kevin, Mrs. Smith’s son, got second place, so how did you, this good-for-nothing, end up at the bottom?!” She beat me from our house all the way downstairs to the apartment complex. Whenever someone tried to intervene, she’d change her story. “This brat stole my money to go on a date with a guy, shouldn’t I hit her?!” But I hadn’t. I watched Brenda in excruciating pain and slowly said, “I’ll go get it from your room.” “But Mom said I’m not allowed to go into your room without permission, so just wait a little longer. I’ll just write another application to enter the room.” Brenda told me to bring the house rules over, and she tore them to shreds. “Call!” Brenda gave birth to another daughter, Chloe, which meant an extra job for me. The shredded house rules were meticulously taped back together, with a few new additions. The last one read: [These house rules apply only to the eldest daughter, Lily. Chloe is exempt.] My high school was boarding, but Brenda insisted I become a day student. She’d rather have me bike home at ten every night after evening study than let me miss cleaning up their dinner forks. “Why are you using water without an application?!” Along with Brenda’s curses, the whip in her hand landed on me, instantly tearing open my skin on my back and drawing blood. I explained, “Chloe peed on the floor, and I just got some water to clean it up.” The still-damp mop was even sitting nearby. Hearing this, Brenda grabbed the mop, pressed the wet, urine-stained mop head to my face, and forcefully shoved me against the wall, making it hard for me to breathe. The moment I could breathe again, I looked at my six-year-old sister, Chloe. She gave me a smile identical to Brenda’s. From childhood, Brenda had always been hands-off with my studies. She didn’t care about my grades. Even if I wrote applications that perfectly met her requirements, she wouldn’t give me money for workbooks, let alone any tutoring. Despite this, I was still in the top ten by my senior year. When the college entrance exam results came out, I was still in the bathroom washing Brenda’s clothes. When I learned my score far exceeded expectations, I instantly burst into tears of joy. I thought Brenda would be happy for me, but she coldly slapped me. “No report, who gave you permission to smile?” My scores were good enough for any top university in the country. Calls from prestigious universities, like Harvard and Yale, came in several times, but Brenda ignored them all. So I chose my own schools and filled out my own applications. But the result was— “The third-highest in the school and seventeenth in the city was accepted into a vocational school.” “I heard the vocational school not only waives all tuition but also offered a forty-thousand-dollar scholarship.” “With such good grades, she should have been a top student at Harvard, is it really worth going to a vocational school just for the money?” I only learned about my vocational school admission from others. Because Brenda wouldn’t allow me to use electronic devices, she arranged an incredibly busy summer job for me, leaving me no time to check my application information, giving her the opportunity to change it without my knowledge. I lost my temper with Brenda for the first time. “How dare you change my university choices? That will ruin my whole life!” “A whole life, my ass! What good is a degree now?!” Brenda kicked me and rolled her eyes. “I raised you for all these years, that forty thousand dollars is rightfully mine. Don’t think you can change your fate through studying, it won’t work with me.” “Go to vocational school, and I’ve already arranged your marriage after you graduate.” “Later, you’ll work hard to earn money and support the family. Chloe still needs you to buy her a house and a car. I don’t want Chloe to be weak and useless like you, it’s just sickening to watch.” I stormed out. Brenda’s words echoed in my ears. She had raised me for eighteen years, given me life but never an ounce of care. We were both daughters, but I was just a tool for her to exchange for benefits, while Chloe was her cherished darling. Was I going to let them exploit me for the rest of my life? Thinking these thoughts, I unconsciously walked onto a bridge with endless traffic. Reaching the edge, I stood on tiptoes and peered down at the rushing river below. Maybe I should just jump and end it all. No! The thought of suicide was quickly dismissed, replaced by another idea.

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