Category: English

After losing my baby, I spiraled into a severe mental illness. My husband, Ryan, brought in the best psychologist and meticulously cared for me for over half a year. To stop being a burden to him, I diligently cooperated with my treatment. The doctor said keeping a diary would aid emotional healing, so I started writing. One day, I opened my diary, and a line of text suddenly appeared on the page. “Leave Ryan, or else…” “You’ll die a terrible death.” My first thought upon seeing these words was – My condition was worsening again. But I checked repeatedly. The words on the paper didn’t disappear. Instead, as I struggled to process it, more red text began to surface. Line after line, the diary read: “Maya, I am you, ten years from now.” “I know you might not believe any of this, but I still have to tell you.” “Ryan betrayed you long ago. Your miscarriage this time was his doing.” “Three months from now, Ryan will take you on a vacation to Bali. You’ll get pregnant again there, but that child won’t survive either.” “Eventually, your condition will worsen, and Ryan will admit you to a psychiatric hospital.” “While you’re there, Ryan will clean out your accounts and marry his mistress, starting a family with her.” “So… now, leave him.” “Don’t let yourself be trapped like this.” The handwriting was familiar, the tone too. But the content, line after line, was utterly foreign. I stood rooted to the spot, unsure how to react. Until the bedroom door pushed open, and Ryan walked in. He’d been working overtime until now, and collapsed beside me, exhausted. His gentle tone carried a hint of playful coaxing and a desire to please. “Maya, feeling any better today?” “I’ve been so busy with work lately, couldn’t come home early to be with you.” “Once I’m done with this busy period, how about I take you to Bali for a vacation?” Bali? A cold dread settled in my stomach. My gaze unconsciously darted to the diary on the table. The seed of doubt quietly took root in my heart. I slowly lowered my head, scrutinizing the man in my arms. His handsome face was etched with deep fatigue. After we lost the baby, Ryan was heartbroken too. But he was afraid of upsetting me, so he never dared to show it in front of me. Several times, I saw him secretly wiping away tears on the balcony. Yet, he’d turn around and pretend nothing was wrong, forcing a smile to comfort me. All these years, without his patience and companionship, I might not have made it this far. Ryan, who loved me so much, Ryan, who was so gentle and devoted to his family. Could he really… be cheating? The diary incident was too bizarre to comprehend. I couldn’t voice the doubt swirling in my mind. After a moment’s hesitation, I picked up his phone. The password hadn’t changed; it was still my birthday. The wallpaper hadn’t changed; it was still a picture of us from when we were eighteen. There were no social media or entertainment apps on his phone. His SnapChat list, apart from countless work messages, only had me. Everything seemed so normal, no flaws whatsoever. My racing heart calmed a little. Then, I sighed helplessly. Perhaps my condition was getting worse again. My psychologist had said that long-term use of psychiatric medication could cause auditory and visual hallucinations. It looked like I’d have to see the doctor again tomorrow. Just as I was about to put the phone back. A message tagging Ryan suddenly appeared in the WhatsApp work group. Before I could even open it. The diary on the table fell to the floor, startling Ryan awake in my arms.

Ryan was dazed for a moment, then instinctively reached for his phone. After seeing the message, he immediately got up anxiously and put on his jacket. “There’s a problem with the project at the company, I need to go back right away.” “Maya, stay safe at home. I’ll have the housekeeper come stay with you. Call me anytime if you need anything.” Ryan hurried to the door. Seeing that I still hadn’t reacted, he paused. “If… if you don’t want me to leave, I can stay with you.” In the dim light, I couldn’t clearly see Ryan’s expression. But I could distinctly feel the exhaustion in his voice. Ever since I got sick, my emotions had been unstable. Ryan ran between the company and home every day to care for me, trying every way to make me happy. The coffee table always had my favorite fruits. Piles and piles of books on psychotherapy. He was so tired his eyes were bloodshot, so exhausted he could fall asleep standing up. How could Ryan, who loved me so much, be cheating? How could Ryan, who loved me so much, even have the time to cheat? I tenderly touched his face and spoke softly. “It’s okay, you go handle your work.” “I took my medication, I’m already much better.” “I’ll cooperate with the treatment from now on and try to recover soon.” Seeing me say this, Ryan was somewhat relieved. He kissed my cheek, then left reluctantly. I wondered if it was my imagination. There seemed to be a faint, lingering perfume scent in the air. I didn’t think much of it, bending down to pick up the diary. In that short time, another line of text had appeared on it. “Go to Hillside Manor, you’ll find the answer you’re looking for.” Hillside Manor… My hand holding the diary trembled slightly. I struggled to control myself, not letting the tears fall. Hillside Manor was our marital home, bought with Ryan and my life savings. It was also the place where I lost my child. Years ago, Ryan and I were busy with our careers and it took a toll on our health. After years of trying to conceive, I finally got pregnant with this baby. I carefully carried him for eight months. Then, a single misstep, and I tumbled down the stairs. At eight months, the baby’s tiny hands and feet were fully formed. He was almost ready to open his eyes. But because of my momentary carelessness, he left this world forever. I was in agony, filled with self-blame, unable to accept any of it. I punished myself with self-harm and refusing to eat, escaping reality through memories. Ryan worried about my deteriorating state. He was afraid I would do something drastic in my grief. He sold the manor and moved me here. From then on, Hillside Manor and those memories became an unspoken taboo between us. I thought it was proof of his love for me. But the diary in front of me now suggested something else. Ryan had done this to make it easier to hide his mistress there. A complex emotion surged within me. Soon, several more lines appeared rapidly in the diary. Painful and urgent. “Maya, I know you’re hurting, but you must understand.” “Ryan doesn’t love you at all.” “He’s long been fed up with your mood swings and is cheating with his young secretary.” “Whatever meager affection you once shared has long been eroded by the passage of time.” I shook my head, no, this couldn’t be. Ryan and I had known each other since we were young, building everything from the ground up. I had saved his life, changed his destiny. He loved me; he would never betray me. I tried to close the diary, telling myself these were all hallucinations. But the words that appeared next ripped my already shattered heart completely to shreds. “Don’t blame yourself for the miscarriage; it wasn’t your fault.” “During your pregnancy, Ryan claimed he was busy with work, but in reality, he was constantly with Chloe.” “On the day of your miscarriage, they were both upstairs.” “Chloe accidentally knocked over lubricating oil, which caused you to fall and miscarry.” “While you were being rushed to the hospital, Chloe was hiding in the nursery you personally decorated.” “While you grieved and blamed yourself for the miscarriage, Ryan was spending every day with Chloe.” “And just now, the reason Ryan left in such a hurry is because he received news that Chloe is pregnant.” “They are currently at Hillside Manor, discussing how to transfer your joint marital assets.” “Maya, wake up.” “The only one who can save you from this misery is yourself.” The handwriting in the diary shifted from neat to frantic. It seemed to contain boundless desperation and helplessness. I fought back tears. But my body trembled with immense sorrow. The moon outside was hazy. That fleeting message had transformed into a gaping chasm, threatening to swallow me whole, along with the night. Had Ryan truly cheated, or was my illness worsening again? I didn’t know, I didn’t understand. Only Hillside Manor could give me an answer.

After a moment’s hesitation, I stuffed my medication and the diary into my bag. I called a cab and headed towards the place I had shared with Ryan for so many years. Along the way, my mind raced. I couldn’t resist flipping open the diary again. Through those distant memories, I searched for evidence of our past love. This diary began when Ryan and I first met. “December 30, 2015, Sunny. The first snow fell in Riverside. I found a frozen little boy on my doorstep. He said he was a scholarship student my father sponsored. His grandfather had passed away, and with no family home left, he had nowhere to go. In desperation, he came seeking his sponsor’s help. I didn’t know how to tell him. My parents were already divorced. My father had abandoned Mom and me; how could he care about the fate of a stranger? But looking into his hopeful eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth. I agreed to let him help out at the bakery, offering him room and board, plus enough wages to get by. They say good deeds are rewarded. I saved a little boy; I hope God will make Mom better soon.” “December 31, 2015, Sunny. Ryan is diligent and quick with his hands; with him here, I can relax a bit more. But the little boy eats so much. Our savings are almost depleted. I wonder when Mom will get better.” “February 11, 2016, Sunny. My mother’s condition worsened, and the hospital called. It was raining too hard to find a cab. I hurried to the hospital, stumbled, and broke my leg. Ryan carried me all the way to the hospital. But I still couldn’t see Mom one last time. Ryan helped me contact the funeral home and arranged for my mother’s funeral. I suddenly realized how tall he’d grown. That little boy huddled on my doorstep was now capable of handling everything.” “March 18, 2016, Sunny. College entrance exams are approaching, and Ryan’s grades are good. All the teachers at school say he’s talented and hardworking. With a little more effort, he’ll surely get into a top university. After thinking it over, I took the last of our family’s money and signed him up for advanced tutoring. I don’t know when it happened. But it felt like, in this world, there were only the two of us, relying on each other.” “March 19, 2016, Sunny. Ryan refused my money. He said I had already done enough for him. He promised to repay me well once he was capable. But truthfully, I didn’t feel like I’d done much. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have survived those lonely years.” “June 23, 2016, Sunny. Ryan’s college entrance exam results came out. On the day he received his acceptance letter from a prestigious university, he confessed his feelings to me. Turns out, the gardenias in the vase, the small, unexpected gifts. None of it was accidental. Perhaps because of my father, I was always a bit slow when it came to feelings. Only now did I belatedly realize his feelings for me had deepened. But how should I respond to this love? My father’s betrayal had left me with an aversion to all men. Ryan… could he be the exception?” “July 17, 2016, We got together. I am very happy.” Long-term treatment had made my movements sluggish, and my memory was gradually fading. But this diary allowed me to rediscover lost happiness. It reminded me of those difficult yet joyful years. I was much older than Ryan, yet he was far more mature than I. It only took a year for me to find him and care for him as he grew up. But he had protected and cherished me for over a decade. I had always been grateful that fate brought us together. Looking at the happiness brimming in the lines, A long-forgotten smile bloomed on my face. But when I turned to the last page, My smile froze. On the faded, yellowed page, a few stark words were written: “Don’t believe it!” I looked up; we had arrived at our destination. The long-abandoned manor blazed with light. Ryan’s car was parked steadily at the entrance.

Blurred window shadows revealed Ryan’s silhouette. I accessed the villa’s security camera feed. I saw him and Chloe locked in a tight embrace. On his face was a smile I had never seen before. His smile was brighter than any day I had ever known. The betrayal was undeniable. But strangely, my heart felt calmer than I expected. I calmly watched Ryan and another woman chatting and laughing. Calmly watched as the red text scrawled rapidly in the diary. It told me the end we were soon to face— “The Bali trip will lead to another pregnancy.” “You’ll plan to surprise Ryan, but instead, you’ll stumble upon him at the hospital, accompanying Chloe to a prenatal appointment.” “You’ll try to confront them, but a business rival Ryan had ruined will beat you to it, lunging at Ryan with a knife, intent on killing them both.” “In the ensuing chaos, Ryan will push you forward.” “The knife meant for Ryan will pierce your body, taking away your third child.” “You’ll barely cling to life, forced to have a hysterectomy, unable to have children ever again.” “But this time, Ryan won’t care for you meticulously as before.” “Because his child with Chloe will be due soon.” “To him, you’ll have become nothing but a burden.” “He won’t even have the patience to look at you, sending you directly to a psychiatric hospital.” “Within a year, he’ll transfer all the assets and file for divorce.” “The rest of your life will be a living hell.” As the words flowed, images flashed before me. The pain I had deliberately suppressed. The past I had refused to face. All flooded from the depths of my memory. I remembered so many things. I remembered Ryan’s countless nights away from home. I remembered the faint, lingering scent of perfume on him. I remembered the tears and humiliation, the yelling and accusations of the past. I remembered Ryan pointing a finger at me after I lost the baby, sneering. “It’s just one child, what’s the big deal? Haven’t you been dramatic about it long enough?” “You’re tired, you’re wronged? Am I not sad too?” “You lost the baby because of your own carelessness, what right do you have to cry in front of me?” “If you can’t move on, go join him!” “I’m sick of looking at your pathetic, aging face!” It was his words that had pushed me to utter despair. On a night when Ryan slammed the door and left again, I slashed my wrists at home. Blood stained the bathtub red, terrifying the housekeeper. I was rushed to the hospital that night and underwent a series of diagnoses. ECT, hypnosis. High-intensity treatments and constant medication had completely erased my memories related to that encounter with death. My mind’s self-preservation mechanism led me to idealize Ryan. Gradually, my brain became confused. I forgot Ryan’s affair and betrayal. I forgot why I had become this way. I forgot all my pain and resentment. I only remembered, long, long ago. Those long-lost, loving memories. Now, the lost memories returned to my mind. My future self, seething with bitter resentment, had shown me the end that awaited. I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t bear to remember. I wrote furiously, each word an agonizing plea, asking. “What should I do?” What could I do to escape that painful past? What could I do to avoid that desolate end? The world was vast, but I was utterly alone. What on earth… should I do? Tears streamed down my face, wetting the diary in front of me. Just before I completely broke down. Maya, ten years from now, gave me the answer.

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My attractive neighbor’s Bluetooth paired with my phone. The next thing I knew, it started playing explicit BDSM content… Staring at the brightly lit tech park at midnight, I dragged my exhausted body into a taxi. I’m an overworked programmer. I’m young enough to pull all-nighters, but it’s brutal. Unfortunately, everyone around me is caught in a cutthroat race to the bottom—each more driven than the last. Leaning against the car window, watching the streetlights whiz by, I slowly closed my eyes. “Hey, kid, we’re here!” The driver’s voice jolted me awake. “Oh, right, thanks.” I couldn’t believe I’d actually dozed off on the ride. “Young man, you gotta take care of yourself—otherwise you’ll never find a girlfriend,” the driver joked. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine!” I hopped out quickly. That short nap had actually cleared my head a bit. Time for a shower! The shower water was scalding hot. I tested the temperature with my foot before stepping in. Soon, my lower legs were enveloped in warm water while my thighs pressed against the cold porcelain. *Splash!* I submerged myself completely. *Sigh.* After a long day, most of my fatigue finally melted away. I propped my phone on the caddy above the tub and swiped to pick a thriller. But weirdly, just a few minutes in, an incredibly graphic scene popped up on my screen! A woman with pigtails in a sheer nightgown was on the floor. Blindfolded with a dog collar around her neck, a well-dressed man behind her whipped her relentlessly with a belt. The woman in the video screamed nonstop. *Drip, drip.* Oh my God. I grabbed tissues quickly, tilting my head back to stop my nosebleed. I wasn’t 18 anymore, but I was still a young, virile guy! Panicked, I tried to turn down the volume, but the screen wasn’t responding to my touch. What the hell was going on? I might be a programmer, but even I’d notice if my phone had a virus, right? “Wait a second…” I checked—my Bluetooth was on. So it wasn’t my phone’s fault. I got out of the tub, dried off, and lit a cigarette. Bluetooth range isn’t that far, and there were only three apartments on my floor. One belonged to grandparents out of town for two days. The other was a new neighbor—I didn’t even know if it was a guy or girl. From my bathroom layout, only their unit had the same setup, meaning they were right next door. This was beyond awkward. To prevent a repeat, I decided to knock and have a word with the new neighbor. Cigarette in mouth, I headed over. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the doorbell. Waiting, I noticed a cute pink Hello Kitty sticker at the top—definitely a girl’s place. “Coming!” a playful voice called. Yep, definitely a woman. The door opened to a woman who only came up to my chin. Her hair was damp—she’d obviously been in the shower. And that tiny towel barely covered her curves—like ripe peaches ready to burst. My expression softened a bit. I took a drag of my cigarette, trying to cool off. I leaned casually against the doorframe, doing my best not to stare at her body. “Fang Yan. Your neighbor.” “H-hi, I’m Mu Sisi.” I watched her legs pressing together, and a mischievous urge to tease her hit me. Since she was so short, I had to lean down to speak near her ear. “Quit messing with the volume. My cat’s going crazy meowing like she’s in heat.” Mu Sisi froze for a second, then stammered: “Oh I’m so sorry—I paired with the wrong device!” Her face turned bright red. “No problem,” I said, turning to leave. Before she closed the door, I added: “Next time you’re getting frisky, double-check your Bluetooth.”

Back home, I filled Misty’s food bowl to the brim. “Cut it out—your dad’s already stressed enough. Keep meowing like that and I’ll do something drastic!” Misty’s constant meows only made me hornier. I grabbed my phone from the bathroom. I meant to turn off Bluetooth, but hesitated before tapping the button. Suddenly, the screen changed again—another video, less intense but still interesting. Looks like the neighbor hadn’t turned off her Bluetooth either. This time there was no sound, so I lay on bed and watched until I fell asleep. The silence helped me sleep, but I had vivid dreams—also just images, no sound. The person in the collar was Mu Sisi. This time she wasn’t blindfolded—I could clearly see the mole under her eye. And the well-dressed man was me. I didn’t even have to speak; one look from me, and she stuck out her tongue and knelt at my feet. I pressed my foot on her shoulder. She flinched, but I grabbed her chin and forced my fingers into her mouth. Mu Sisi licked them submissively, but a darker part of me didn’t want her to enjoy it. Sometimes I pressed down on her tongue, sometimes I touched her throat—making her gag. I yanked the chain hard, forcing her to lift her head closer, half her body leaning against mine. Her legs kept squeezing together. Just as I was about to pry them open… *RING!* My alarm went off. *Hiss.* No wonder I’d been thinking about her all day—she’d invaded my dreams. I’d had a wet dream. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. There was a morning meeting today; the regional branch head was coming for an inspection. I turned off the video, got up, brushed my teeth, and tossed the sheets into the washer. Before leaving, I fed Misty, put on my shoes, and shook my head—trying to forget the dream entirely. As I walked to the elevator, I heard a door open. Just as the elevator doors were closing, a slender hand slid in to stop them. The doors reopened, and there stood Mu Sisi.

Today she wore a formal business suit. The mole under her eye looked incredibly alluring—just like the angle in my dream when I looked down at her. The thought made my body heat up again. “Good morning,” she said politely as she stepped in. “Not great.” Honestly, after that dream, I hadn’t slept well—I felt mentally drained. “What’s wrong?” “Some voice made my cat meow like she was in heat—even in her sleep.” … The elevator went dead silent. To break the awkwardness, I added casually: “Sounded a lot like your voice.” “Haha, my voice isn’t that distinctive.” “I wonder what you sound like when you scream.” … Great, silence again. We reached the first floor. She grabbed her bag and hurried out—I followed at a respectful distance. We’d be seeing each other all the time; I couldn’t keep teasing her then awkwardly bumping into her, right? Just as I considered calling out, she turned back, taking a deep breath. “I’m so sorry—it was probably me. I was exhausted yesterday and… forgot to turn off Bluetooth before falling asleep. I was just so tired.” She stumbled through the explanation, face turning red. “Fang Yan, let me make it up to you. I’ll drive you to work.” I’d been so focused on her I hadn’t noticed the sports car we’d reached. “No thanks. Traffic’s terrible this hour—I don’t want to slow you down.” “It’s fine, Fang Yan. My hours are flexible.” She opened the car door—too awkward to refuse, I got in. She looked younger than me—how could she afford such an expensive sports car? “Ready to go, Fang Yan?” Mu Sisi smiled, buckling her seatbelt. “666 Corporate Drive, Tech Park.” I gave my work address, watching the seatbelt press against her chest. Damn, she’s stacked. We didn’t talk much, but she didn’t need GPS—drove straight to my office building like she knew the way. At the office, I stared at my computer, lost in thought. Then Qiu from my team patted my shoulder. “Morning, Fang Yan!” Skinny guy, but he’s got a strong pat. “Qiu, been working out? That’s a solid pat.” I rubbed my sore shoulder. “Hehe, yeah—but not *that* kind of gym.” Qiu grinned, whispering: “Moved in with my girlfriend. She’s a sub—loves getting spanked.” Good grief—are young couples really into this stuff? His words made me think of Mu Sisi’s Bluetooth video. She’s probably a sub too. “All departments, meeting time!” The intercom blared. Everyone headed to the main conference room. Inside the conference room: “Heard the CEO’s son is back from overseas!” “A new boss?” “The CEO’s been MIA forever—rumor says he’s sick. Would he let an outsider run the company?” “True… Shhh, they’re coming!” I listened to the gossip, craning my neck to see who was coming—only to freeze.

Mu Sisi?! What was she doing here? That mole under her eye, that curvy figure—no mistake. “Hello everyone, I’m Zuo You, your new General Manager. My father has entrusted the company to me.” The young man on stage looked elite in his suit, but his neon green hair was a turn-off—total spoiled rich kid vibe. “This is my assistant, Mu Sisi.” What? She was the GM’s assistant? What a coincidence. “Please take care of me.” She bowed, and her cleavage was on full display—whispers erupted. The meeting was short. The new GM wanted to understand the company, so departmental meetings were next. “That new assistant Mu Sisi has an amazing body!” “Even I’m jealous—and I’m a woman!” “Single guys in the office are in luck!” “Please—with that look, she’s not an assistant. More like a bed warmer.” The break room women were gossiping up a storm. I held my coffee cup—needed caffeine after last night’s bad sleep. It made sense now. A young woman with a sugar daddy could definitely afford a sports car. “Fang Yan! You’re here?” They noticed me. “Liu! Just grabbing coffee. Thought I’d wait until you ladies were done.” “Fang Yan, you’re too sweet! Come in—the water’s boiling.” They pulled me inside. Our company had plenty of female employees, but turnover was insane. “Fang Yan! GM wants you in his office!” An older employee yelled from across the room. I waved goodbye, chugged my coffee, and jogged over. “Hu, rough day?” I clapped his shoulder. “Don’t ask. This new GM cut all my projects.” He wiped sweat from his brow. “Good luck—you’ll need it.” I grabbed my project files and headed to the GM’s floor, nervous as hell. The hallway was dead quiet. The assistant’s desk was empty—usually they’d announce you first. After waiting, no one showed up. I walked to the door, about to knock—when I heard sounds from inside. “GM… easy!” Was that Mu Sisi? Hard to tell. “Bitch, bite down. No noise without permission.” Oh shit—I froze. Knock or leave? Before I could decide, someone spoke behind me. “Fang Yan? What are you doing here?” Mu Sisi?! I spun around. “What are *you* doing here?”

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Life Drawing. Every art student knows exactly what I’m talking about. But have you ever wondered why nude models are typically older? I know what you’re thinking. But beyond that, there’s another critical factor. Younger bodies are just more alluring. Professor Yang was a renowned artist brought in from the city to teach at our local academy. By day, I was just one of his many students. But by night, I was his private model. To be blunt, his nude model. At first, I felt incredibly shy, but under Professor Yang’s professional guidance, I gradually grew more confident. When it came to his art, Professor Yang was always extremely serious. During our sessions, I’d constantly adjust my poses to meet his standards until he was satisfied. And inevitably, there was physical contact. I initially thought, “It’s for art— a small sacrifice is nothing.” But as Professor Yang’s actions became bolder, I began to realize. Things were spiraling out of control. My name is Zhang Xuan, and I’m an art student. My grades were so poor that getting into college felt impossible. This was my only shortcut. As my teachers put it, this was my only way to change my life. At the time, I felt resentful, thinking they were belittling me. But later, I had to admit. This path truly altered the course of my life for decades to come. To boost our acceptance rates into top art programs, the school hired the city’s most famous artist to teach us. His name was Yang Bowen. He looked exactly as his title suggested – refined and thoughtful. Because he’d previously taught at well-known academies, we respectfully called him Professor Yang. Unlike other famous artists. Professor Yang was famous for his nude paintings. The young women he painted always had stunning curves, but what always stood out was that the models’ faces were never shown in his art. Yet, this very characteristic sparked countless men’s imaginations. Once, during a city interview, Professor Yang was asked if he’d personally studied the female form to portray it with such exquisite detail. He’d always brush it off with a smile. He always claimed that imagination was vital for an artist, and that his paintings were purely from his mind, without any external reference. But I knew he was lying. Because the nude models in his paintings were all based on real life. And that person was me.

Nude models aren’t uncommon in the art world, but young women rarely take on the role. Even if it’s for the sake of art, it’s hard for young people to put themselves in that position. So, my role as Professor Yang’s private nude model was kept entirely secret. He didn’t want his methods questioned. And I certainly didn’t want my nude body exposed to the public. The fact that the models’ faces never appeared in his paintings was the only decency Professor Yang afforded me. Besides teaching, Professor Yang did most of his creative work late at night. First, because midnight brought more inspiration. Second, it made it easier for me to sneak into the school’s art studio when no one else was around. Under the guise of private lessons, I provided him with material for his art. When I completed the last stroke of a drawing, Professor Yang praised it as he looked at the canvas, “You’ve improved again. At this rate, your spot at a top art academy is secured.” Professor Yang never held back praise, but he never praised a piece of art lightly either. So when he said that, I knew my admission was a sure thing. “Alright, that’s enough for this session. Now it’s time for your payment,” Professor Yang said, turning his gaze to me, his eyes full of impatience. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, and no free lessons either. My payment for Professor Yang’s tutoring was an entire night as his model. Despite my shyness and hesitation, I had to do it to achieve my dream of getting into a top art school. So, under Professor Yang’s watchful eyes, I removed my clothes one by one. Until I was down to just my lingerie, Professor Yang suddenly called out, “Stop.” I looked up, confused, meeting his gaze. His eyes lit up as if he’d discovered a priceless treasure. “Don’t take off any more,” he interrupted. “Just like that. It leaves more to the imagination.” I was positioned on a chair. Before the actual creation began, I’d be adjusted for almost an hour. Professor Yang’s dedication to art bordered on obsession. From my posture to the expression I should hold, he meticulously controlled every detail. Until he achieved his ideal state, he would never begin to draw. Professor Yang stood before me, carefully examining my body. Any imperfections, no matter how small, would be adjusted. The accidental brush of his fingers against my skin always made my limbs stiffen even more. Whenever this happened, Professor Yang would snap, “If you don’t relax, we’ll be stuck like this all night.” I could only tell myself to relax, reminding myself that it was all just for art. Outside this studio, no one would know whose body was in the painting. So, I met Professor Yang’s gaze, and my movements gradually grew bolder. “Yes, exactly!” Professor Yang clapped his hands. “Exaggerate the expression a bit more. You need to show that delicate shyness, that coy femininity.” “Your eyes— make them more alluring.” “Widen your movements, yes, hold it right there.” Although the model’s face would never appear in the painting, Professor Yang always said that only when the model’s expression was right would the painting truly come alive. Professor Yang directed me while his hands moved constantly. Holding the same pose for so long made my body tremble uncontrollably. It wasn’t until Professor Yang stopped drawing, staring intently at the canvas, that I realized the creation was complete. Only this time, his expression wasn’t good. “What’s wrong?” I got up from the chair and walked to his side to look at the artwork with him. “Don’t you feel like something’s missing?” Professor Yang suddenly asked. I looked at him, confused. In my eyes, this painting was already an unattainable masterpiece among our peers. I truly didn’t understand Professor Yang’s demanding standards. My shoulder suddenly felt heavy as Professor Yang placed both hands on them. “That delicate shyness,” His gaze circled my body, then settled on my face. “Yes, you lack that maidenly demureness.” Then, he took another step closer to me. “I think you need help finding that feeling.”

“What feeling?” “The feeling of shyness.” In the interrogation room, Detective Chen, who was questioning me, frowned deeply. After a long pause, he spoke again, “Is it what I think it is?” My throat felt dry, and I couldn’t speak for a moment, only managing a slight nod. “From what I understand, you had just turned eighteen,” he looked at me, enunciating each word. “So if something really happened that night, he was committing a crime.” Yes, how could Professor Yang do something that would ruin his reputation? “So, nothing happened that night.” A flicker of surprise crossed Detective Chen’s face, but he quickly regained his composure. He raised his chin slightly, motioning for me to continue. That night, Professor Yang’s gaze roamed over my body, naked and raw. Like a hunter, cornering its prey. After a tense standoff, he asked, “Do you want our relationship to go a step further?” Even as an inexperienced young woman, I understood what Professor Yang implied. I froze, caught off guard, standing there unsure what to do. “I know you come from a difficult family background, and everyone has low expectations for your studies. I imagine…” he looked at me, each word deliberate, “you’re working so hard to prove them wrong, aren’t you?” It was phrased as a question, yet I heard it as a statement of fact from Professor Yang’s mouth. Professor Yang was right. The reason I swallowed my pride to be his nude model was indeed to gain more respect. I had a dysfunctional family background; my parents divorced, and I lived with my father. Because my academic performance was poor, no one supported me continuing school – not even my teachers. So, I had to make those who looked down on me feel ashamed. Professor Yang understood me too well. But… I never intended to sell my body. Professor Yang didn’t say anything, just watched me, seemingly waiting for my answer. Perhaps too impatient for my response, his fingers slid down my arm, then seized both my hands. “I can give you better inspiration for your art. If you agree, I’ll guarantee you get into your dream college.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with an unsettling blend of artistic fervor and raw desire. Before I graduated, I still needed Professor Yang’s guidance. Instead of outright refusing, I said, “I… I’m not eighteen yet.” But artists are notoriously stubborn. “It doesn’t matter,” Professor Yang tightened his grip, and I felt my arm might shatter. “I’ll wait until you turn eighteen.” He knew my eighteenth birthday was next month. He said, on the day I turned eighteen, I should give myself to him as a gift. That day, I suddenly realized that Professor Yang was not someone I could afford to provoke. “So, you agreed to it?” DetectiveChen’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he’d heard something incredible. I looked at him, a bitter smile on my face. “DetectiveChen, I never had a choice.” I knew Professor Yang was a married man with a daughter. If I agreed to his terms, I would become the other woman. Even with my intense desire for a top art education, I didn’t want to do something immoral. Without much hesitation, I began to refuse again. “Professor Yang, I can’t…” Before I finished speaking, the grip on my wrist suddenly loosened. Professor Yang released my wrist, and his expression instantly changed. “I advise you to think carefully before you answer me,” he said, looking at me impassively, his voice devoid of warmth. He walked over to the canvas and carefully examined the nude woman’s body in the painting. “I suddenly feel that such a beautiful painting is somewhat incomplete without a face,” he abruptly turned, his eyes fixed on me like a viper’s. “How about I complete it for you?” My heart clenched instantly, and my eyes widened in terror. If the full image of that painting were ever to be made public, forget college, I’d struggle to even continue living in this city. I never imagined Professor Yang would resort to threatening me like this. I frantically shook my head, my voice choked with tears, begging him not to do it. But Professor Yang merely stood there, his gaze a mocking smile, as he scrutinized my body from head to toe. In that moment, I knew I truly had no choice. After a moment’s thought, I slowly approached Professor Yang. Under his slightly surprised gaze, I stood on tiptoe and wrapped my arms around his neck. In a voice only he and I could hear, I whispered, “Okay.” I promised Professor Yang that on my eighteenth birthday, I would give myself to him.

“But actually, you had already decided to kill him that day.” In the interrogation room, Detective Chen looked at me with a somber gaze. I stared at a blank spot on the floor, my hands unconsciously clenching. When I looked up, I met Detective Chen’s eyes. I slowly shook my head. “I never planned that.” Influenced by my dysfunctional family, I was, like Professor Yang, an extreme egoist. Professor Yang wasn’t worth risking my entire future for. “So what exactly happened that night?” Detective Chen clearly didn’t believe my story. “The night Professor Yang was found, only you and he were in the studio.” I lowered my head again, my fingernails digging deeply into my flesh. What happened that night was like a nightmare to me. My eighteenth birthday was no different from any other day. By day, I was one of Professor Yang’s many ordinary students: he taught, and I listened. Until the final evening class bell rang, and students gradually left the studio, leaving just Professor Yang and me, our eyes meeting. He stood at the podium, his lips silently opening and closing. I quickly read his lips: “Are you ready?” Under his raw, scrutinizing gaze, I began to remove my outer clothes, one by one. I couldn’t tell if it was shame or something else, but my face felt flushed. With only one piece of clothing left, Professor Yang stopped me, “No rush.” Under my puzzled gaze, Professor Yang walked to the canvas. He smiled, “You look exceptionally captivating right now.” I don’t think I truly knew what Professor Yang was like in his private life. But his talent and passion for painting were undeniable. He always seemed able to create art anytime, anywhere. I held my pose, and Professor Yang sat before his canvas, both of us in a rare, unspoken understanding. Occasionally, he would look up at me, his face betraying no emotion. I knew that usually, in such cases, he was deep in thought, immersed in his creation. “And then? How did you end up drinking?” Detective Chen’s eyes were full of suspicion. I lowered my head, biting my lip. After every completed painting, he was always exceptionally excited. So that day, Professor Yang suggested we have a drink, a small celebration for our “first time.” Before I could react, he turned off the lights and led me to a corner of the studio. He looked at me, filling my glass with wine. “Have some. Girls are most enchanting when they’re a little tipsy.” I looked at the liquid in the glass, hesitating. I knew I probably couldn’t escape that night. Professor Yang downed his drink in one gulp. For some reason, I felt a surge of fear. If what happened between Professor Yang and me that night were discovered by a third party, I would undoubtedly be the one most affected. Thinking this, I suddenly stood up. “Professor Yang, can you wait for me for a moment?” Professor Yang’s eyes showed confusion, and I quickly explained, “I’ve been holding the same pose for a long time, and I’ve started to sweat. I want to go back to my dorm to wash up first.” I paused, then added, “And change my clothes.” Professor Yang clearly looked impatient, finishing the last sip of his wine. Just when I thought Professor Yang would scold me, he simply waved his hand. “Girls are so much trouble. Go quickly and come right back.” I hadn’t expected Professor Yang to agree so readily, and a wave of secret relief washed over me. Without bothering to straighten my clothes, I stumbled out of the studio in a panic. Although it was just an excuse, I probably couldn’t avoid what was coming that night. Still, having some time to breathe was a good thing. While washing up in my dorm, I secretly prayed that Professor Yang was already drunk and passed out. Maybe… I could still escape. On my way back to the studio, my heart pounded with anxiety. I was terrified of what awaited me that night. But to my shock, the moment I stepped into the studio, I froze. I never imagined I’d encounter an even more terrifying situation. On the table, wine glasses lay scattered. And Professor Yang lay on the floor, his arms limp at his sides. I initially thought Professor Yang was just drunk, so I tried to pull him up. But no matter how I called him, he didn’t react at all.

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My husband, Blake, dragged me to the tribunal. If convicted, I’d lose everything, face ten years in prison, and never be able to interfere with Blake and his beloved, Seraphina. Blake, on the other hand, would get all my assets and move in with Seraphina. If acquitted, Blake would be plagued by misfortune and disfigured. Seraphina would be permanently sterilized and forced to pay me millions in emotional damages. And I would receive a multi-million dollar settlement, plus the right to terminate our marriage contract. My relatives and friends all urged me to apologize to Blake, simply because, in their eyes, he had always been devoted and deeply in love with me—never the type to cheat. They had no idea that in my past life, I walked in on my husband and Seraphina having an affair, and they killed me for it. This time, I was going to make those two pay a hefty price! Even before I entered the tribunal, videos had already surfaced online, painting me as an abusive, selfish monster towards Blake. The so-called vigilantes online dug up my name and address, sending me threatening letters and harassing packages. They even bombarded my company with nasty phone calls, full of curses and venom, questioning how a woman like me could be so vicious, demanding why I even deserved to be married. My colleagues were dragged into it too. After work, they were attacked by a mob of haters, and a few ended up in the hospital with injuries. Under immense public pressure, Ms. Davis, my boss, had no choice but to fire me. But this job was something I had worked tirelessly for years to get, poured my heart and soul into. My closest friends knew how much it meant to me. And all of this was orchestrated by Blake, my husband of three years. Because in this world, divorce isn’t easy. I arrived at the tribunal as scheduled. At the entrance, I ran straight into Blake. He visibly flinched when he saw me. Blake probably hadn’t expected me to actually show up. Three years of marriage, two years of dating – that was enough time to know a person. Blake was certain I wouldn’t appear. He knew I loved him, he knew I was a coward when it came to pain. He was sure I’d never show up. At least, in my past life, even with all the online bullying and immense stress, I never once appeared in court. That’s right, I’d been reborn. In my past life, after I caught Blake and Seraphina in their secret affair, Seraphina directly knocked me out with a blunt object. I lay in a pool of my own blood, weakly reaching out for Blake to save me. But Blake turned, pulled out a weapon, and killed me. Then he fabricated the story that I couldn’t handle the public backlash and fled the country. Blake and Seraphina then smoothly moved in together, stealing everything from me. My parents searched for me endlessly but to no avail. Then, on a stormy night, they died in a tragic accident. It was only after I died that I learned Seraphina, Blake’s so-called friend, was actually the love of his life. They’d been having an affair for ages, plotting how to get rid of me. The public outcry was just the beginning. They acted so early only because I had stumbled upon them. My presence messed up every step of their elaborate plan. After all, in this world, the penalty for cheating is incredibly severe. Reborn, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to trust Blake again.

“Anya, please, let me go. Stop tormenting me like this. Seraphina and I are just good friends. She’s the only family I have left. Just promise you won’t lay hands on me again, and you won’t stop me from seeing Seraphina, and I’ll drop the lawsuit. I don’t want you to be punished.” Blake’s voice yanked me back from the painful memories of my death in the past life. My back was drenched in cold sweat. As soon as Blake saw me, he reacted incredibly fast. Before anyone else could even process it, he dropped to his knees, playing the part of a long-suffering husband, constantly abused by me, yet still deeply in love. In this world, the tribunal is the highest form of justice, and practically no one dares to appear. In outsiders’ eyes, if Blake was truly suffering, he’d never come here. My case was the first of its kind in fifty years, naturally causing quite a stir globally. Some media outlets, desperate for an exclusive, had set up cameras at the tribunal entrance hours ago. The moment Blake knelt, they scrambled to turn on their cameras and rushed forward. “Anya, even though I love you, forcing me to separate from my best friend is worse than death. Please, stop this madness. Let’s just go home. Just promise me, and we can go back to living a good life.” Blake, seeing that the fire wasn’t burning hot enough, continued. What a declaration of love. In my past life, if I’d seen Blake crying so hard he’d lost all composure, I would have softened. But I had crawled out of hell, and I wouldn’t fall for it again. I just stared at Blake coldly, enunciating each word. “If that’s the case, then just go die!” The crowd wasn’t just media; there were also many who had participated in the online bullying against me. They all started pointing and whispering. “Oh my god, is there really a woman like this in the world? Does a married man not deserve his own social circle?” “I heard Blake and his female friend have known each other since they were little. If there was really something between them, what would Anya have to do with it? I bet she’s just jealous that Seraphina is pretty.” “Who even marries such a selfish woman? She’s actually telling her Blake to go die. Blake must have been blind. Looks like you really need to keep your eyes open when you get married.” All sorts of vile curses echoed in my ears, but I didn’t flinch. I walked straight into the tribunal. I sat in the defendant’s chair, Blake in the plaintiff’s. His eyes were red, and when people offered comfort, he spoke with feigned anguish. “It’s not entirely Anya’s fault. Maybe she just can’t understand friendship between men and women.” “While her actions were wrong, that’s just her temper. She can’t control her emotions, and I feel really bad for her.” I almost laughed hearing those words. On the surface, Blake was defending me, but he had already cemented my guilt. The unwitting audience immediately pointed at me and cursed. “Anya, are you even human? Blake has always been so good to you, how could you lay a hand on him?” “Could it be that Anya has someone else on the side? Is that why she’s trying every trick to force Blake away?” As soon as that speculation came out, everyone present, plus the audience watching the live stream, erupted. Cheating was no small matter. Blake’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk, yet he still feigned pity, trying to clear my name. “How could that be? Anya isn’t that kind of person. Don’t talk nonsense. She still loves me. There’s even a tie she bought for me in the car, though it’s been used. She probably just got scammed by the store clerk.” With that bombshell, the assumption that I was cheating was immediately taken seriously by many. The comments flooded the screen. 【Poor guy, you’re the one being scammed!】 【Such a good Blake! Even now he’s defending that vicious woman. Anya, just die!】 Watching the endless stream of messages, I scoffed, but I didn’t bother to respond. “Presiding Officer, we can begin.” I looked at the stern Presiding Officer. Someone mocked me. “She’s so impatient herself! These days, whoever’s aggressive gets to speak.” The Presiding Officer banged his gavel for silence, and the proceedings began. “The plaintiff must submit evidence to prove the defendant’s guilt. No one may withdraw during the proceedings, and those who withdraw will be severely punished immediately.” I saw a flicker of panic on Blake’s face, but he still stood to present his evidence. The first segment was to accuse me of domestic violence. The big screen lit up. I glanced at the viewership—it had already reached eighty million people.

The big screen played a video from my and Blake’s home. Blake had just come out of the shower, and I was sitting on the bed, my face dark. Blake, as usual, walked up to me. “Anya, the water’s perfect temperature now. You should go shower.” But I just ignored Blake. I threw my phone on the floor. The loud crash made Blake shriek. He was only wrapped in a towel, terrified, squatting on the ground with his hands covering his head. “Bitch! Haven’t I been good to you? Why are you doing this?!” I said, stepping forward and punching the wall right next to Blake’s ear. Blood immediately beaded on my knuckles. Blake didn’t say anything, just kept crying. My emotions spiraled out of control, and I slapped Blake across the face. “A man like you doesn’t deserve to be near me. Get out!” Blake looked at me with a wronged expression, tears welling up in his eyes. But after my shouting, he didn’t even change clothes, just ran out the door. The video ended with Blake shivering in the cold wind, helplessly squatting on the ground, murmuring repeatedly. “Why won’t you believe me? I’m so scared, Anya. Please take me home?” The screen froze there. The comments section exploded. 【Hitting someone for no reason? Are abusers always so moody?】 【Even if Blake did something wrong, you shouldn’t lay hands on him, right?】 【Didn’t you notice Blake showered first so Anya wouldn’t be cold when she went in? How could Anya be so cruel as to make such a thoughtful Blake go out in the dead of winter wearing just a towel?】 【While Anya hitting him is wrong, what if Blake really did something awful that made Anya lose control?】 It was a flood of insults, all aimed at me. Any sensible voice trying to defend me was quickly drowned out by vitriol. The Presiding Officer banged his gavel. “For the first charge, domestic violence, the defendant Anya is acquitted.”

The moment the verdict was announced, the live chat went silent for a moment, then exploded with a flurry of messages. 【Domestic abuse was practically proven, yet she’s acquitted?! This has to be rigged!】 【I heard Anya has a lot of money. It’s possible she bribed the Presiding Officer on the sly.】 Facing the accusations, the Presiding Officer’s expression remained calm. He just looked at Blake and asked, “Do you have a second piece of evidence?” Blake submitted the evidence. He didn’t even dare to look at me. The second segment was to accuse me of cheating. After the outcome of the previous charge, many were outraged, but even more tuned in. The scene shifted to my car. Blake bent down to pick something up and suddenly spotted a man’s tie under the seat. He asked, bewildered, “Anya, whose tie is this?” As he spoke, Blake picked up the tie; it had obvious signs of wear. Before I could answer, Blake continued, “I don’t even wear this brand or style.” I just glanced at it, replying indifferently, “Probably a male colleague left it when a bunch of us carpooled after our last team outing. Just leave it there. I’ll ask around later when I’m free.” Blake’s eyes immediately reddened. “Call every single one of your male colleagues and ask whose it is! I don’t want you to lie to me!” I snapped impatiently, “Do you know what time it is? Can you stop being so unreasonable?” Blake turned his head away, but tears still streamed down his face. I, however, continued driving, paying him no mind. After the evidence played, the comments section filled with sarcastic comments and jeers. 【Unreasonable? I think she’s feeling guilty, aren’t you? The last time I caught my partner cheating, it was because there was another person’s stuff in the car.】 【Poor Blake. He’s been betrayed, yet he’s still putting up with it.】 Then the Presiding Officer announced again. “For the second charge, cheating, the defendant Anya is acquitted.”

This time, the live chat utterly exploded. Some cursed the Presiding Officer, others cursed me. Someone even opened a public voting channel. That’s right, if the tribunal was questioned by the audience, a public vote could be initiated. In just a few seconds, the ‘guilty’ votes already hit twenty-six percent. If it reached sixty percent, the audience could convict me without even needing the Presiding Officer. Blake shot me a defiant look. After all, it had come to this point; he didn’t need to keep up the act anymore. The Presiding Officer ignored it and continued to ask Blake for evidence. Blake puffed out his chest, submitting the final piece of evidence. This segment was from when Blake and I went on a vacation. We had booked a trip to a tropical island. But when we were about to leave, Seraphina showed up, pulling a suitcase. My face instantly fell. Seraphina smiled at me. “I’m here to take pictures for you two. Professional travel photography is so expensive these days. Anya, don’t worry, I’m paying for all my own travel expenses.” But Blake quickly refused. “Letting you take pictures for us without paying you is one thing, but making you pay for your own trip too? No way!” Then Blake squeezed my hand, “Right, Anya?” I yanked my hand away from Blake’s, snapping back, my face dark. “If you have so much money you don’t know what to do with it, why not donate it? She’s your friend, why should my money pay for her?” Blake froze. He looked at me, bewildered. “Anya, we’re a team. My friends are your friends, aren’t they?” I scoffed. “Don’t make me sick. Is there such a thing as a ‘pure’ friendship between a man and a woman?” I stomped off, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence. After the video played, the Presiding Officer still said, “For the third charge, selfishness, the defendant Anya is acquitted.” As his words fell, the voting counter on the big screen started spinning, reaching fifty-eight percent. This meant that if it went any higher, I could be convicted by the audience without even needing the Presiding Officer’s judgment. 【Who says men and women can’t be just friends? Anya’s own heart must be so dirty, she sees filth everywhere!】 【Even if they’re just friends, you should pay for someone to take your pictures, right? How can Anya be so stingy she doesn’t want to pay a dime? I hope she goes broke!】 【She can’t stand her husband having friends? Why doesn’t she just tie him to her hip? What a disgusting shrew, so petty!】 More and more people were siding with Blake. Blake was completely triumphant. He even tried to speed up the voting by directly saying to me, “Anya, I know you resent me. I’m not even going to hold it against you that you secretly bribed the Presiding Officer. All I ask for is your loyalty and love, and for you to let me have friends freely. We can still make this work.”

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I broke up with my girlfriend of three years. Everyone thought I’d be the one crawling back, begging for forgiveness, just like always. Even Chloe thought so. Until she showed up at my doorstep, asking when I’d stop throwing a fit and come home. Instead, she saw me holding another woman. “Alex, are you done with this drama?” My girlfriend—no, my ex-girlfriend Chloe—sat on the sofa, her face etched with impatience. I looked at her impatient face, a cold smirk playing on my lips. I’d caught her slow dancing with her childhood friend, Mark, at a club. She’d claimed I was making a mountain out of a molehill. Fine, I’d show her a real mountain. She’s just a flirt, constantly leading guys on. Honestly, I’d rather not deal with her! “I told you, Mark and I are just friends, hanging out normally. You already embarrassed me in front of all our friends; what more do you want?” “Whatever, think what you want.” Her phone screen flashed, cutting off her accusations and complaints. I watched her get up and go into the bathroom, then quietly followed. Sure enough, Mark’s clear, smiling voice drifted out: “Chloe, he isn’t giving you a hard time, is he?” “Of course not!” Chloe’s voice was incredibly gentle, a kindness she never showed me. Hearing Mark’s laughter float out, I turned and started packing my things. Seriously, what a pair of unreliable individuals. Why would I ever want her back? I sent Chloe a breakup text, then blocked her. The conversation in the bathroom stopped for two seconds, then resumed as normal. Heh, she always felt so entitled, so confident around me. Couldn’t blame her. Who told me to fall madly in love with her in freshman year and willingly give her everything? All those years, washing her activewear, buying her drinks and gifts… it all felt like an ocean of effort I poured into her, but it just vanished without a trace. Now, even when I broke up with her, she still looked dismissive. Would someone who’d given so much truly be able to let her go? The laughter from the bathroom continued. I grabbed my suitcase and quietly left that cage. As soon as I got in the car, my SnapChat started blowing up. Chloe’s friends were relentlessly tagging me in the group chat. “Alex, playing the disappearing act again?” “How many times is this now?” “If you ask me, you should grow a spine. If you leave, don’t come crawling back to our Chloe next time, so you don’t ‘disappear’ again.” “Seriously, like he could ever leave our Chloe?” A wave of laughter followed, showering me with blatant humiliation. I watched coldly, quickly typed out a message, and sent it: “As you and Chloe wished, we’re done. For good.” After sending it, I left the group. That SnapChat group was made by Chloe’s friends just to mock me. They had other groups for real communication. But I knew their purpose and still joined. Just for Chloe’s occasional snippets of conversation. Later, they even added Mark to it, and Chloe’s messages increased. I’d be wildly jealous, yet like a desperate gambler, I’d frantically search through Chloe’s messages for any tiny sign that she loved me. Unfortunately, there was none. Instead, her chats with Mark grew increasingly flirtatious, and she never once considered my feelings. As my friend Liam would say, I was completely obsessed. Totally under Chloe’s spell. Now, looking back, I find my past self pretty pathetic. Chloe didn’t love me. She wasn’t gentle or considerate, let alone caring or nurturing. She’d only call me when she needed something, but when she didn’t, she wouldn’t even use my name. What was I even getting out of it? Just someone to eat, sleep, and cause trouble?

I have an old house in the suburbs, left to me by my parents. I hadn’t lived there for years, but now it was my only refuge. After showering, I saw a missed call on my phone. It was from my friend, Liam. Just as I was about to call back, Liam called again. “Alex, are you and Chloe fighting again? Why bother? You’ll just end up crying, throwing a fit, and crawling back to her anyway.” Liam’s words cut deep, each one a dagger to my heart. I stood by the window, the cold wind making me shiver. “This time it’s really over. We’re not getting back together.” Liam hesitated for a moment. “Really over? What if she comes crying to you, begging for you back?” I let out a cold laugh. “I’m not masochistic by nature. Five years. I’m finally awake.” “I don’t believe it!” Liam then changed his tune. “Unless you actually show up for our high school reunion tomorrow.” I: “…” What does that have to do with anything? Liam scoffed. “I knew you weren’t serious about breaking up.” I sighed. “…Fine, I’ll go. I promise I’ll clean up nicely and attend tomorrow, okay?!” Liam finally sounded satisfied. “There’s a surprise tomorrow!” What surprise could there be? I was exhausted and in no mood to guess. “If you keep playing coy, I’m going to bed.” Liam immediately spilled the beans. “Your goddess, Seraphina, is coming tomorrow.” The moment those three words left his mouth, my foggy mind snapped into crystal-clear focus, and my grip on the phone involuntarily tightened. Her full name was Seraphina Sterling. She was my untouchable goddess during my naive high school days, and the goddess of half the boys in our school. Excellent grades, a radiant aura, kind and generous to everyone. Liam teased, “The whole point of this reunion is to welcome her back from overseas. I asked, and she’s still single. You’re single now too. Perfect timing, isn’t it?” I walked into the bathroom, looked at my haggard reflection in the mirror, and let out a bitter laugh. “That’s all in the past.” After hanging up, I silently found a sheet mask and put it on.

When Liam saw me at the hotel entrance the next day, he circled me a few times in surprise. “Holy cow, Alex, look at you! I expected a miserable, broken mess. If I’d known a breakup would make you look this good, I would’ve told you to dump her ages ago!” I felt a little smug. “Not bad, right?” Liam clapped me on the shoulder, satisfied, and grinned as he walked into the private room. This was one of the top five-star hotels in the city. Chloe and I had eaten here before; the food was expensive and required reservations far in advance. Liam chuckled. “You still don’t know, do you? This hotel is part of the Sterling family’s empire. How else do you think our class president snagged a private room here?” Speak of the devil… Seraphina walked in, surrounded by classmates. She wore a simple yet elegant beige blazer, and a delicate pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Five years later, she looked more mature than before, her features even more refined and softer. As soon as I looked away, the class president chuckled and teased, “Alex, you look even sharper after a few years! Seraphina was just asking if you’d be here.” I froze, looking at Seraphina in surprise. Even though we’d sat in front and behind each other in high school, we rarely spoke. She was a golden child, and I was just an ordinary guy. Seraphina greeted me, a gentle smile on her face. “Hello, Alex. Long time no see.” Her voice was beautiful, clear and soft. My heart gave a little flutter. I smiled politely and nodded. Liam excitedly pinched my arm and whispered, “Whoa, something’s happening! Definitely something!” No way, absolutely nothing. I knew my place. A secret crush was fine, but acting on it would be inappropriate. I chose a seat near the door, keeping my distance from that dazzling group of elites. Just then, Seraphina also took a seat, two chairs away from mine. The class president chuckled, calling out to her, “Seraphina, if you sit there, where will the rest of us go? Come sit closer to the center!” Seraphina spoke softly, “We’re all classmates eating together. Putting us in a hierarchy just makes things awkward.” With that single statement, everyone settled down without further ado.

It had been years since our last high school reunion, and today was particularly lively. The last one to arrive was Noah. He’s a pretty well-known fashion influencer online now. “Wow, Noah actually made time to come to our reunion today!” Most of the classmates around the table stood up to greet him, but Seraphina remained quietly seated. After greeting everyone, Noah walked straight to the seat next to Seraphina, grinning. “Seraphina, how about we swap seats?” Seraphina smiled and moved for him. Everyone laughed and cheered, clearly used to his antics. It was no secret that Noah had a major crush on Seraphina. Seraphina simply nodded in greeting. Noah asked, “Seraphina, are you planning to develop your career back home?” Seraphina chuckled softly. “Yes, I’m taking over some family business. I’ll need all my old classmates to look out for me now.” Everyone quickly said she was too modest, as everyone else in the room combined probably wouldn’t match a fraction of her net worth. Just then, the waiter started serving the dishes. Noah immediately downed a glass of red wine, then asked with a smile, “Seraphina, I heard you’re still single. Do I stand a chance?” The blunt question immediately livened up the whole room! I was curious too. I looked up and met her gaze as she shifted her eyes. Seraphina also took a sip of wine. “Sorry, but I already have someone I like.” This news was even more surprising. Noah didn’t seem too disheartened. Instead, his smile grew even brighter. “As long as you’re not married, I still have a chance.” I somewhat envied Noah’s courage to express himself, remembering how I used to frantically pursue Chloe. I lowered my head and took a sip of red wine. It was smooth, not at all harsh. Definitely good wine. After a few rounds of drinks, everyone loosened up. A bunch of old friends I was close with came over to toast me. My face felt flushed. “No, I can’t. I’ve had enough.” I refused politely, but it probably just sounded like I was being shy. I had countless times felt awkward about this. Noah waved it off. “Oh come on, don’t be a stranger, just drink up!” Liam looked annoyed and stood up to defend me, but Seraphina was even quicker. She picked up her glass and smiled. “Alex has had quite a bit to drink already. Maybe everyone should take it easy.” “Whoa—” Lots of classmates gasped in surprise! I was completely flustered too. Liam gave me a knowing smirk and tugged my arm. “Come with me to the restroom.”

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I was streaming an adult movie on the living room screen when, just as things were getting intense, I heard a rustling at the front door. At first, I thought it was a neighbor. Then, a key slid perfectly into the lock, and the door opened. In the dim light, I could only make out a blurry silhouette. It was a woman. And she had an incredible figure. “Who are you? What are you doing in my apartment?!” “Who are *you*?” We both spoke at the same time. On the screen, the adult movie I hadn’t managed to pause continued to play, its embarrassing sounds echoing around us. “Pervert! Disgusting!” My night was interrupted by a stranger breaking into my apartment in the middle of the night, and then I was inexplicably yelled at. What did I do to deserve this?! I zipped up my pants, annoyed, and turned off the projector. Just as I was about to give this person a piece of my mind, she reached for the light switch on the wall. The blinding LED light made my eyes sting for a moment. Once they adjusted, my urge to unleash a torrent of curses was gradually replaced by a strange flutter in my chest. She was incredibly beautiful. A black bodycon sweater dress accentuated her figure perfectly. Her generous curves and impossibly narrow waist outshone even the ‘stars’ I’d carefully picked for my movie. Long lashes cast shadows beneath her eyes, her delicate features framed by a cascade of dark, curly hair. The sight reignited the desire I’d just put out. “Seen enough?” She crossed her arms, her long, slender, pale legs striding towards me. “Now, let’s talk about why you’re in my apartment.” “This is *my* apartment!” I went inside, found my rental agreement, and placed it on the coffee table in the living room. This was a brand-new, move-in ready place. I’d moved in right after the renovations were finished. Even though I was renting, I’d met the landlord, and he seemed pretty legitimate, not the type to scam someone. The beauty in front of me quickly scanned the contract. When she saw the landlord’s name, she let out a cold laugh. That smile was sharp enough to cut, sending chills down my spine. She pulled an iPad from her suitcase, swiped a few times, and handed it to me. On it was a purchase agreement, with the address clearly listed as my current residence. I was about to ask for clarification, but she was already on the phone. “Luo Jie, what’s going on with my apartment? “Are you insane?! How long were you planning to keep this from me if I hadn’t come back? “No way, don’t even think about it! “I’m not leaving. I’m staying here for good. “That’s *your* problem.” *Snap*—she hung up. “Her beautiful eyes scanned me up and down, but with a look usually reserved for trash.” “Here, on the purchase agreement, the owner is me, Luo Ruowei. She pointed to the elegant signature, then continued: “Luo Jie is my brother. I went abroad for graduate studies two years ago, so the apartment was vacant. I never imagined that idiot would rent it out. “So that’s the situation. I don’t like living with other people. You can go to Luo Jie for the remaining rent or any penalty fees. “Now, please, move out immediately.” A thousand swear words stampeded through my head. “Luo Ruowei, it’s midnight. You want me to move out *now*?” Seeing her reach for her phone, ready to call the police, I quickly threw my hands up in surrender, gritting my teeth. “Fine! I’ll move, okay?!” I had plenty of things. After all, I was the first one to live in this apartment, and I’d been here for two years. I truly thought of this place as my home. I was dawdling, packing my luggage in the bedroom, when Luo Ruowei’s sharp voice cut through the air from the living room. “Your ID. I need to take a picture. If there are any issues with the apartment, I’ll contact you for compensation.” Annoyed, I tossed my ID onto the sofa where she was sitting. I went back to my room and continued squatting in front of the wardrobe, packing my bags. After a while, I turned around, and my lips brushed against something incredibly soft and smooth. It was Luo Ruowei’s thigh?! 2. My gaze traveled up her pale thigh, disappearing into the shadow beneath her dress, past her slender waist, over her captivating curves, all the way to her perfectly sculpted face… “Oh, my—I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I was just packing…” I dropped the clothes, pressing my hands together in a sincere apology. Luo Ruowei was so unforgiving, she was going to tear me apart! I waited for what felt like an eternity, but she didn’t demand an explanation. I secretly peeked at her. Her expression was a mix of surprise, excitement, and a touch of vulnerability. I couldn’t quite place it, but it was incredibly complex. “Your name is Yang Yizhou?” “Uh, yeah.” “From H City?” “That’s right. Why…?” She crouched down, leaning in close. The soft curve of her chest pressed against mine. I imagined she could feel my racing heartbeat. Backed against the closet door, I could smell her lovely scent, a perfect match for her aura. She might have been a little nearsighted, squinting as she peered at me for a long time, as if trying to memorize every line of my skin. Looking at her alluring red lips, so close to mine, I swallowed hard. “Yang Yizhou, do you have anywhere to go this late?” “No, not really. You’re the one telling me to move out.” “Don’t move.” “Huh?” “Just keep living here,” she whispered, her lips brushing my ear. “With me.” I’ll admit, my mind went straight to the gutter when she said that. I even glanced down at my pants, silently thinking: *Buddy, it’s your time to shine today. Don’t let me down!* But the next second, she shoved a pillow into my arms and pushed me out of the bedroom. “I’m exhausted. Goodnight.” The second bedroom didn’t have a bed, so I had to crash on the sofa for the night. The intoxicating scent lingered, and I suddenly remembered she’d been sitting there for quite a while. 3 When I opened my eyes the next morning, a bright, clear face instantly filled my vision. Luo Ruowei was propped on the sofa, looking down at me. My blood ran cold, then all the heat rushed to my face. “Good… good morning, Miss Luo Ruowei.” “Morning.” She acted as if nothing had happened, rising and walking back into her bedroom. From yesterday to today, her behavior had been incredibly strange. Could Luo Ruowei like me? No way. I know what kind of guy I am. She was just nearsighted, not blind. I habitually made a sandwich to take to work. After a moment’s thought, I made another and placed it on the dining table. 4 I worked at an advertising agency. It was a growing industry, and my colleagues were all pretty lively. “Dude, did you hear? Mr. Ma got demoted for poor performance! A new president is coming to our department today. I hear she’s really strict… Should we organize something to make a good first impression?” My cubicle neighbor,Zhang, spun his chair over to me. These guys, they pretended to be buddies while secretly watching each other like hawks, terrified someone else would get ahead or score points with the boss. I just brushed them off with a laugh. What do I care? I’m just someone on a fixed salary. You want me to dip into my own pocket to impress the boss? As if I’d do that! Yet, reality turned out to be so ridiculously cliché. At the morning meeting, I saw the new president. Yep, it was my gorgeous landlady, Luo Ruowei. Luo Ruowei was dressed in a sharp black suit, stiletto heels, with fiery red lips — sexy and alluring. — Her demeanor was vastly different from when she was wearing SpongeBob loungewear this morning. She clearly saw me too, but only glanced my way without lingering. Like everyone else, I focused my attention on her. On the surface, it looked like I was listening intently to her speech. But as a man, I could guess what they were all thinking: *Holy crap, what a bombshell.* Or, *She definitely slept her way to the top.* They were all so cynical and narrow-minded, unable to believe someone could be genuinely better than them, so they naturally assumed her success was due to unethical means. So boring. I wasn’t exactly high-minded myself. The only reason I believed in Luo Ruowei was because I’d seen a stack of professional certificates in her luggage yesterday. She was more than qualified for this position.

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At my brother’s funeral, my stepmother struck me and called me his killer. “You left the gate open. You let Leo run into the road. He is dead because of you.” My father, Arthur, didn’t believe me. He locked me in the basement in a blind rage. Then I managed to escape. Only to find Eleanor in a stranger’s embrace. She was sobbing, pounding his chest. “If you hadn’t left the gate open that day, my son would still be alive.” So, it was Eleanor’s affair that killed her own son! I turned to run, to call my father Arthur and scream the truth. But Eleanor saw me. Terrified her secret would be revealed, she shoved me down the stairs. I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Leo died. I pointed at Eleanor’s room. “Dad! The man in her room left the gate open!” “Lily! You saw a man? You saw him leave the gate open?” My father stood outside the yard gate, looking furious. I sneered internally. Look how much my dad doted on Leo. In my last life, I’d sworn I shut that gate. He didn’t listen. Eleanor’s word was his truth, and that truth condemned me as his son’s killer. My mother passed away right after I was born. Before the mourning period was even over, he brought he brought Eleanor home-already carrying his child. That child, born too soon, was her ticket in. The birth broke something inside her, leaving her barren. So Leo became his most precious possession. After Leo’s death, I’d been less than a dog to him-fed scraps, housed in the kennel, forced to bark. It was how he channeled his impotent rage and nursed his guilt toward Eleanor. Not this time. I wouldn’t be that foolish again. I would leverage his masculine pride and his brittle paternal love, to expose that despicable couple. My first act upon rebirth was simple: go home and catch Eleanor in her sin. But I never expected that as soon as I turned back, I’d see Leo standing in the middle of the road. In the distance, Arthur’s face paled, horror dawning. I was closer. And I needed him to believe me, now and always. So I lunged, yanking Leo back from the curb. This time, the car didn’t shatter his skull. It crushed his legs instead. He would never walk again “Arthur!” The shriek was pure, undiluted panic. Eleanor was on him in an instant, a mess of tears and snot, clawing at his arm. “Don’t listen to her! She’s hated us from the day her mother died! She opened that gate! She wants Leo dead!” Before he could react, I ran to Arthur and wrapped myself around his, pressing my dirt-streaked face to his knee. When I looked up, my eyes were wide pools of shattered innocence. “Daddy, I didn’t!” I whispered, letting my voice fracture with the perfect note of bewildered hurt. “I just…I want a mommy who loves me too. Eleanor doesn’t. I thought…if I was extra good to Leo, you’d both want me…” As I spoke, I forced out a few tears, pointing my small hand towards Leo, who lay sobbing pitifully nearby, his legs broken. “I share my milk with Leo every day, and I let him play with my favorite teddy bear… Just now, if I hadn’t pulled him back, he would have flown to heaven and wouldn’t be able to play with me anymore. My teacher says we should respect elders and cherish the young. Lily did that, Lily is a good kid, Dad, you have to believe Lily.” Because I usually put on a show of being good to Leo to appease Arthur, I said all this without batting an eye. I clung tightly to Arthur’s leg, using all a child’s strength to depend on him, then I dropped my heavy bait. “If Dad doesn’t believe me, you can go upstairs now and find that man! He’s definitely still here!”

Arthur’s face darkened, so angry you could wring water from it. He reached down and pinched my cheek. “Dad believes you.” With that, he spun around and rushed upstairs. He looked less like a man catching his wife cheating and more like one ready to fight to the death. Eleanor’s face went deathly pale. Unable to stop him, she stomped her foot and wailed, “Arthur! The most important thing now is to get Leo to the hospital!” But Arthur was a man who could tolerate anything except being cuckolded. His son’s legs were nothing compared to his pride. He went upstairs without looking back. Of course, he found nothing. The man had already slipped away. But the unfamiliar men’s cologne upstairs, so strong it was choking, wouldn’t dissipate. Eleanor, true to form, burst into tears on cue. She pulled a beautifully packaged men’s cologne from her bag, crying like a tragic heroine. “Arthur, this was a special gift I bought for you, I wanted to surprise you…” Nobody would believe that excuse. But Arthur had no proof. The ambulance wailed as it took Leo away. Before getting in, Arthur glared at Eleanor, spitting out each word through clenched teeth: “If I find out it was because of that lover of yours that my son’s legs were broken, I’ll make sure his entire family suffers a miserable end!” I was desperate but helpless. I knew Eleanor’s methods were cunning, and she’d clearly prepared well. I couldn’t defeat her just yet; I needed to find another opportunity. At the hospital, Leo cried in pain. I immediately rushed to his bedside, holding his small hand, and choked out, “Don’t cry, Leo. Lily’s here.” Leo was probably dazed from the fall, or maybe my usual fake affection for him was working its magic. He instinctively snuggled into my arms. “Lily saved me.” Arthur, standing nearby, praised me for being “sensible.” But when he saw Leo’s leg in a cast, he couldn’t help but sigh, muttering, “Thankfully, nothing vital was injured.” Without proof, Arthur could only eye Eleanor with suspicion regarding who opened the yard gate. She, in turn, played the role of the docile and obedient wife to perfection, adamantly claiming the yard gate was old and had simply come loose on its own. The matter was quietly pushed aside, unresolved. Back home, Eleanor became impossibly good to me. She cooked me BBQ ribs, bought me pretty new dresses, and even tucked me into bed at night. Her gentle demeanor made it seem as if I were her own child. Arthur noticed, and his suspicions gradually faded. He probably thought that even if she had done something, for the sake of the children and the family, she would have settled down by now. But I knew the more she acted like this, the more it proved she had a guilty conscience, desperate to wash the dirt off herself and then dump it all back on me. I was waiting too, waiting for her to show her true colors. Despite all my precautions and calculations, I still underestimated her ruthlessness. That weekend, Eleanor sent me back to my second-floor bedroom to do homework early that morning, while she pushed a sleeping Leo out onto the second-floor balcony to enjoy the sun. I looked up from my homework, the sense of unease in my heart growing stronger. And sure enough. The moment Arthur pushed open the front door, a loud crash, followed by Eleanor’s shrill scream, echoed from the staircase. “Lily! How could you push Leo!” Arthur’s steps, just inside the door, abruptly halted. He looked up to see me standing in the second-floor hallway, while Leo, wheelchair and all, lay overturned at the bottom of the stairs.

I clenched my hands until my nails bit into my palms. Calm. Breathe. “Daddy, I didn’t. I was in my room doing homework. Eleanor…she was on the balcony upstairs. She was watching him.” I let my voice waver, the perfect picture of a scared little girl. Arthur held an unconscious Leo, his bloodshot eyes fixed on me, like a wild beast about to lose control. Eleanor immediately interjected, “I told Lily to watch Leo upstairs, then I went next door to Mrs. Harrison’s to borrow a cup of sugar! Mrs. Harrison can vouch for me!” I sneered internally. What a perfect ‘golden cicada shedding its shell’ trick. She had timed Arthur’s return precisely, deliberately going downstairs to find a neighbor to vouch for her. Sure enough, Mrs. Harrison, who was always close with Eleanor, immediately pushed through the crowd, chiming in with a righteous expression. “That’s right, Arthur, Eleanor just got back from my place with the sugar, saying she was going to make your favorite pot roast! I saw her enter the yard myself!” After she finished, she didn’t forget to point a finger at me, adding with feigned distress, “But your daughter, Lily, when we came over, we saw her standing on the second floor, just staring coldly downstairs, without any reaction! Oh, Lily, how can your heart be so cruel? Was it you who deliberately left the gate open last time when Leo got hurt?” Her words immediately stirred up a storm. The surrounding neighbors immediately began to chatter, everyone talking at once. “Exactly, that kid doesn’t look like she’s innocent.” “So young, and already so jealous. What will she be like later?” Eleanor brought a perfect, trembling hand to her face and dissolved into sobs, going limp against Arthur. “Don’t blame her, Arthur. Last time with the gate…it must have been an accident. Maybe this time was too…” Every word meticulously designed to convict me. Arthur’s gaze completely hardened. He had seen it. He had seen Eleanor rushing in from outside the yard, frantic. And me? I was just standing on the second floor, a cold, indifferent bystander. Seeing was believing. “Last time, I saw you pull Leo back with my own eyes, and I believed you.” Arthur’s voice was terribly hoarse. “Now, I saw you push him down the stairs with my own eyes! What more do you have to say for yourself!” The trust in his eyes instantly crumbled, replaced by an unyielding disgust. “You don’t have a single trace of fear on your face, Lily. Was even saving Leo last time just an act for me?” Tears instantly welled up in my eyes, and I cried out, “It wasn’t me! It was the man Eleanor brought home! The same man from last time! That’s why Eleanor had time to go to Mrs. Harrison’s!” “Dad, don’t you believe me?” With all my might, I cried out. “Call the police! Let them check for fingerprints on the wheelchair, and they’ll prove I’m innocent!” Seeing Arthur’s arm around Eleanor loosen slightly, I knew my words were working. I choked back a sob, but my gaze was fixed on the unconscious Leo in his arms. “Dad, if there’s really a bad person hiding in our home who would hurt Leo, what will happen to him later?” Those words were like a needle, precisely piercing Arthur’s most vulnerable spot. Eleanor’s face instantly went deathly pale. She bit her lip hard, then as if making a sudden decision, she abruptly looked up, her eyes misty with tears, at Arthur. “That’s what I should be saying to you! Our family of three was doing perfectly fine. If it weren’t for a plague like you in this house, how would we never have a day of peace!” She spoke tearfully, every word seemingly wrenched from her very soul. “Arthur, I gave up everything to be with you, to bear your son. How could I possibly harm our own flesh and blood? I cook you delicious meals in countless ways every day, and I keep this house perfectly in order. Have you forgotten all that?” “It doesn’t matter if you misunderstand me, I’m just worried about you! I’m afraid you’ll be blinded by this ungrateful wretch, this viper I’ve raised, and regret it later!”

Eleanor’s words were heartfelt and sincere, imbued with all the grievances of a wronged wife. Arthur wavered. He remembered how, over the years, Eleanor had humbled herself, kept the house immaculate, and been utterly devoted to him. How could a woman who gave up everything to be with him, and bore his only son, possibly harm her own flesh and blood? Seizing the crack in his resolve, Eleanor pressed her advantage with the precision of a master tactician. Her face was a portrait of wounded dignity pushed to its limit. “Arthur, if you doubt me, investigate. But if you find nothing, you will have shattered more than my heart. You will have broken the trust this marriage is built on. If that happens, I will take Leo and leave. We will divorce!” The word “divorce” hit Arthur like two crushing blows. It worked. He convinced that she was the victim, driven to despair by his own wicked daughter. Mrs. Harrison, our ever-watchful neighbor, chose that moment to swoop in. “Eleanor, dear, don’t speak such words in anger! We’ve all seen your devotion to this family. It’s the girl who’s rotten-jealous of her own brother to the core!” “Exactly, quickly go and comfort your wife. A good wife like her is hard to find! If she leaves in anger, you’ll regret it too late!” The neighbors’ chattering became the final straw that broke Arthur’s remaining reason. He whirled around, his eyes blazing with fury, glaring at me. “Are you only happy when you’ve torn this family apart and created utter chaos? All those books you’ve read, have they all gone into a dog’s belly?!” Before he finished speaking, he turned and walked to the toolbox in the corner, pulling out a dark, heavy whip. It was the same whip we used to discipline our large German Shepherd when he was disobedient. It was covered in tiny barbs, and dried, blackened flesh still clung to the tip, giving off a mixed scent of rust and gore. “Since studying won’t make you a decent person, then right here at home, Dad will teach you how to behave!” CRACK! The whip whistled through the air and lashed my back. The neighbors feigned concern, murmuring, “Don’t go too far,” but their eyes couldn’t hide their approval. “Serves her right! Disobedient children need to be disciplined!” Eleanor, holding Leo, a smug smile playing on her lips, looked at me like a lamb about to be slaughtered. “Dad, it wasn’t me! Call the police. Check for fingerprints!” I choked out, the metallic tang of blood flooding my mouth as I bit down on my own tongue. Arthur didn’t hear me. With a flick of his wrist, what seemed like a gentle tug sent the whip’s barbs deep into my flesh, then ripped them out, a searing, tearing pain. I hated it! I hated it so much I trembled! Why? Even with a second chance, even planning every move, was I still trapped in this nightmare? Just as I desperately closed my eyes, believing I was doomed to repeat the past, Arthur’s second whip was already raised high, aimed straight for my eyes! I was finished. At that critical moment, Leo, unconscious in Eleanor’s arms, stirred. A faint whimper escaped him. “No… don’t hit Lily…” Everything froze. Leo forced his eyes open. With all his might, he cried out. “It was a man! A man who smelled like cologne pushed me!”

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After three years of my intermittent amnesia, I happened to overhear my husband, Liam Stone, chatting with his friends. “Liam, Elara blanks out every few months. You make us take shifts pretending to be you. What if one of us catches real feelings?” “Why would I worry?” Liam laughed, a wild, unbridled sound. “Elara ‘s libido is practically nonexistent. As long as you keep your hands to yourself, she won’t be starting anything.” “But don’t get any ideas about making out with her. When I’m finished having my fun, I’m returning to my marriage.” For three years, every time I lost my memory, the men who held my hand, hugged me, and even shared a bed with me, were never the real Liam. Three years. Nine blackouts. Nine stand-ins. But what they didn’t know was my memory had returned two years ago. My ninth “husband” arrived home to find me staring blankly at the sofa. A smooth voice cut through my thoughts. “Elara, I’m home.” I turned my head to look at the man at the door. “Who are you?” I frowned, feigning confusion. “Are you my husband? I thought my husband’s name was Liam Stone.” The man froze for a second, then quickly retorted. “No! Uh… I’m a friend of your husband’s! Don’t worry, I’ll call him right now and tell him to get over here.” With that, he pulled out his phone and hurried to the balcony. “Liam, Elara’s lost her memory again! Whose turn is it this time? Get over here and relieve me!” I stayed by the window, listening as Liam’s friend made excuses into the phone. “Liam, Elara is too clingy, we have to watch her 24/7, we can’t handle it!” “Yeah, Elara’s great and all, but she’s way too controlling. What guy doesn’t like to stray once in a while?” “How about you just go back yourself, Liam?” “No way.” Liam’s lazy voice came through the speaker. “I’m still having fun. Who’s gonna cover for me back home? Come on, we’re brothers. You can’t just leave me hanging like this?” Amidst their excuses, a cool, clear voice spoke up. “I’ll do it.” I recognized it instantly. It was Aidan Walker, Liam’s best friend. Aidan was known as the notoriously unapproachable heartthrob in our circle. Rumor had it, he’d been single for all thirty years of his life. When Liam first suggested finding someone to impersonate my husband, Aidan was the first to object. But now, he was interested in playing this game, too? Half an hour later, the front door clicked open. Aidan walked in, backlit by the evening sun. “Elara, I’m home.” His cool voice had a hint of magnetism. I stood up, watching the tall, handsome man before me. “Are you my husband, Liam Stone?” Aidan cleared his throat into his fist. “Sorry. Work ran late. I should have called.” Just as he finished speaking, his phone rang. Aidan made an apologetic gesture, then took the call on the balcony. Through the earpiece, I heard Liam’s nonchalant voice. “Oh, right. Aidan. Forgot to mention. You can hold her hand or hug her. But don’t sleep with her. No matter what, she’s still my wife.” “Got it,” Aidan’s voice was low. For three years, no matter how those men pretended to be Liam, they only ever held my hand or hugged me. They never crossed the line. For three years, there were no photos of us in the house, no identification documents of any man. They naturally assumed I wouldn’t find out. And I played dumb, pretending to know nothing. But this time, I wanted to play a different game. I walked over and actively wrapped my arms around Aidan’s waist. “Even with no memory, something about you feels…familiar. You must be my husband.” I squeezed Aidan’s waist tightly, and didn’t forget to run my hand over his firm abs. Aidan’s body stiffened for a second. He quickly pushed me away. “What’s wrong?” I asked innocently. “I lost my memory. Don’t you want me anymore?” “…I do.” Aidan’s eyes flickered away slightly, his voice hoarse. My fingers went to the buttons of his shirt. “It’s so cold today. We’d be warmer in bed?” His throat worked. “Okay.” That night, we shared the bed. An unspoken agreement to lie there, perfectly still.

The next day, Aidan took me to a bar, saying he wanted to reintroduce me to his friends. As soon as we entered the private room, we saw Liam passionately kissing a woman. Aidan cleared his throat, interrupting them. Liam saw us, froze for a second, then slowly stood up. “Hi, I’m Aidan Walker, Liam’s childhood friend.” Liam extended his hand to me, introducing her unhurriedly. “And this is my girlfriend, Chloe Davies.” “Oh,” I nodded, but didn’t take his hand. Chloe Davies. Of course, I knew her. Liam’s first love. They had broken up due to family reasons, then secretly rekindled things when I lost my memory. Liam’s unwillingness to return to our marriage for three years was all because of her. There were many of Liam’s other friends in the room, several of whom had pretended to be my husband. Now, they all casually teased me: “Elara, you lost your memory again? Our Liam is such a great guy, no matter how many times you forget, he’ll always stick by you!” “Yeah, Elara, you really need to cherish a man like that!” I curved my lips into a sarcastic smile, but said nothing. Aidan put his arm around me and we sat down on the sofa. As soon as we were seated, I picked up a piece of fruit and fed it to him. “Husband, eat more.” In the dim light, I glimpsed Liam’s eyes flicking towards us. I leaned close to Aidan’s ear and deliberately nipped his earlobe. “Husband, you were poking me all night last night, it hurt so much~” Aidan’s face stiffened, and he awkwardly squeezed my hand. “Baby, stop it.” Liam gripped his wine glass tightly, his expression clearly displeased. Chloe, sitting beside him, jabbed with a sugary sweetness. “Elara, you’re a real witch. The man, who never so much as glances at a woman, has turned into a lovesick puppy over you.” At that, Liam’s friends, afraid I might catch on, all let out awkward laughs to smooth things over: “Haha, that just proves how strong Elara and Liam’s feelings are!” “Exactly, even with amnesia, it doesn’t stop them from showing affection!” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liam take a sip of his drink, his face as black as charcoal. A wave of satisfaction washed over me, and I got up to go to the restroom. When I came out of the restroom, Chloe walked towards me. As we brushed past each other, “Splash!” she flung the red wine from her glass all over me. “Oh, I’m so sorry, my hand just slipped.” “Slap!” I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. “Sorry, my hand just slipped too.” The words had barely left my mouth when a furious shout came from behind me. “Elara, what are you doing!” Liam strode over. Chloe immediately threw herself into his arms, crying dramatically. “Honey, I just accidentally spilled wine on Elara, and she got angry and hit me. Now my head feels so dizzy.” Liam’s face was dark, furious. “Apologize to Chloe!” I sneered. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” “Elara!” Liam’s eyes were icy, his face terrifyingly grim. “Why have you become so arrogant and unruly after losing your memory?” “What I become has nothing to do with you.” I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him anymore. Just as I was about to turn away, Liam kicked me in the knee, forcing me to drop to my knees with a “thud.” “Elara, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you lost your memory. Apologize to Chloe, now!” Looking at the enraged man before me, I felt nothing but pathetic and ridiculous. I had no parents, and in this huge city, Liam was my only anchor. We had been together for ten years, ever since we started dating in college. When he proposed, he swore he would always protect and love me, and would never betray me. But now, he had not only betrayed our marriage but was also getting physical with me for another woman. All those sweet words and solemn vows had become a cruel joke. Amidst my grief and indignation, Aidan’s cold, sharp voice sounded from behind me. “Don’t touch her!” I endured the pain in my knee, stood up quickly, slapped Liam across the face, then hid in Aidan’s arms and complained, “Husband, your friend is so rude. He bullied me!” Aidan’s expression was grim, his eyes shadowed, looking at Liam with a warning glare. “Don’t you dare bully Elara.” Liam gritted his teeth, a hint of violence on his stern face. Chloe, still shrinking in Liam’s arms, sneered disdainfully. “What’s so great about a girl who’s been passed around and a guy who’s picking up the scraps?” “Shut up!” Liam and Aidan’s voices rang out simultaneously.

“Chloe, Elara may be wrong, but you can’t insult her like that,” Liam’s voice was cold and hard. Aidan’s brows furrowed. He looked at Chloe, his eyes icy. “Don’t let me hear you badmouthing Elara again.” With that, he put his arm around me and we left quickly. We went straight home. The moment we walked in, I wrapped my arms around Aidan’s waist, my hands running over his solid abs. “Darling, you were so hot protecting me just now, I loved it!” Aidan’s ears tinged red, and he cleared his throat. “As long as you liked it.” I reached out to undo his belt. “Darling, it’s too cold. How about we go to bed and warm up with some exercise?” “It’s still early.” “Who says we have to wait for a certain time to go to bed?” I kissed his Adam’s apple, coaxing softly. “I lost my memory, and I can’t remember what being intimate feels like… Can you help me remember?” Aidan’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice rough. “Elara… stop teasing.” I simply pushed him onto the sofa. Aidan struggled for two seconds, then flipped over, pinning me beneath him. From afternoon until late into the night, Aidan was like a starved wolf finally off the leash, he was insatiable, devouring every moment. I was so exhausted I fell into a deep sleep. In a hazy state, I heard Aidan ask hoarsely in my ear: “Elara, did you really lose your memory?” I opened my mouth, but said nothing. Did it matter, whether it was true or not? Actually, I wanted to ask Aidan the same thing. You clearly hated this game of playing house, so why did you finally join in? … The next day, Aidan took me to the hospital for a follow-up on my neurological condition. Unexpectedly, we ran into Liam and Chloe in the lobby. Chloe was the first to call out to us. “Elara, Ai… Liam, what a coincidence.” She touched her lower abdomen, speaking boastfully. “I’m pregnant, here for my prenatal check-up. What about you two?” Aidan glanced at her coolly, his tone detached. “Just bringing Elara for a check-up.” Liam said nothing, but his gaze was fixed on Aidan’s and my tightly clasped hands. Suddenly, his eyes moved up, noticing the dense hickeys on my neck. “What happened to your neck?” His voice rose sharply. I deliberately looked at Aidan coyly. “You’ll have to ask my husband.” Liam turned to Aidan, his stern gaze holding a dark intensity. I took the opportunity to leave. “I still need to get a CT scan. You guys chat.” After I left, Chloe also went into the ultrasound room. Once it was quiet, Liam stared coldly at Aidan, his voice frigid. “Aidan Walker, did you touch her?”

Aidan lit a cigarette. In the curling smoke, he mumbled, “No.” “Then what are those red marks on her neck?” Aidan paused for two seconds. “Mosquito bites, maybe.” Liam frowned, half-believing, half-doubting. Aidan blew out a smoke ring and sneered. “Besides, what if I did? You don’t want to be with her anyway, so why not just get a divorce?” Liam’s reaction was furious. “No, we can’t divorce! Elara and I have known each other for so many years, there’s still something between us. It’s just… now Chloe’s pregnant, and at this point, I can’t leave her.” “Ha.” Aidan scoffed disdainfully. “Trying to have your cake and eat it too, Liam. You’re such a scumbag.” Liam was silent for a moment, then, as if making a firm decision, he said, “Aidan, the next time Elara loses her memory, let’s switch back.” “We’ll see when she loses her memory next time.” Without a definite answer, Liam grew even more uneasy. He stared intently at Aidan, his face grim. “I just feel like the atmosphere between you and Elara is all wrong, Aidan. Promise me, you absolutely won’t touch her!” Aidan stubbed out his cigarette, opening his mouth to speak just as I strode over, CT report held aloft like a verdict. “I have good news! The doctor says my neural pathways have fully regenerated. No more memory loss!” Liam went rigid. “That’s…impossible.” Aidan’s face, however, split into a genuine, radiant grin. “Really? Elara, that’s incredible!! Come on, let’s go home and celebrate!” I slid my arm through his, turning to leave. But Liam grabbed my arm. “Elara, don’t go! Actually, I-” I cut him off impatiently. “Mr. Stone, even if you’re my husband’s friend, touching me without permission is really classless.” Without a backward glance, I walked away, leaving him standing alone. Back home, Aidan swept me into the bedroom before the lights could come on. His kisses were fierce, raining down on my neck. “Elara,” he breathed, the word ragged. “Never leave me. Promise me.” Lost in the darkness, I murmured. “Okay.” At my word, Aidan became a beast unleashed. He claimed me with a fierce, tireless hunger. Just as we were nearing the peak, the lights slashed on. In the doorway, Liam stood still, his eyes burning with rage.

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“As long as the baby comes to term, that healthy little heart will save Aurora. That was the deal from the beginning. Marry Amelia. Get her pregnant. All for this.” My world shattered. He had raced into the flames to save me, not out of love, but because my womb carried the spare parts for his true love. I wasn’t his heart. I was the incubator for a heart. The disposable vessel. And my purpose was nearly served. Amelia POV Alexander loved me. All of New York knew it. For a blissful, foolish stretch of time, I believed it too. When my fingers turned to ice after hours with the cello, he’d gather them into his own warm, broad palms, his brow creased with a concern that felt utterly real. “My Amelia’s hands are meant to create beauty, not endure pain.” In the Sterling mansion, I had been a ghost. The light, the warmth, every smile-all flowed to my sister, Aurora. Then Alexander came. He didn’t just notice me. He pulled me forcibly from the toxic swamp of my birth family. He gave me a wedding they still talk about. He gave me Sycamore Estate, with its cathedral of rustling plane trees. Most of all, he gave me a home. I was naive enough to believe this was the beginning of happiness. Until the fire. It didn’t just engulf the yacht. It turned every dream I owned to ash. It was the anniversary celebration of Pierce Group. The yacht cruised slowly along the Hudson River, packed with Manhattan’s elite. Halfway through the dinner, he presented me with a sapphire necklace in front of all the guests. “Amelia, you are my heart.” He whispered in my ear, his gaze burning with an intensity that took my breath away. Leaning into his strong embrace, I closed my eyes in contentment, feeling I had no regrets in this life. But catastrophe doesn’t knock. It explodes. The fire erupted without warning, thick smoke billowing out, sharp alarms tearing through the facade of luxury. People screamed and fled; the scene was pure chaos. I was shoved violently, a tearing pain shooting through my ankle, leaving me unable to move. In the confusion, I saw my parents-Mr. and Mrs. Sterling. Their faces were etched with panic. When they saw me on the ground, their steps faltered for only a fleeting moment before they unhesitatingly stepped over me, rushing in the opposite direction. I heard my mother’s heartbroken cry. “Aurora! Where is my Aurora!” They didn’t even spare me a glance. At that moment, my heart felt like it had been plunged into the frozen Atlantic, even the pain turning numb. The smoke was suffocating. Flames clawed at the doorframe, and the air itself burned in my lungs. I curled up in a corner in despair, my consciousness on the verge of being swallowed by darkness. Just then, a tall figure forcefully burst through the warped door, rushing in against the fiery glow. It was Alexander. His usually immaculate golden-brown hair was wild, his bespoke suit scarred by burns and sparks. He stripped off his jacket, wrapped my slender body tightly, and swept me into his arms. A burning piece of wood crashed heavily onto his back. I distinctly heard his muffled groan, but the arm holding me tightened even more. “Don’t be scared, I’ll get you out.” His voice cut through the inferno, anchoring my drifting soul. Held securely in his embrace, those dozens of feet through the sea of flames became the hottest brand on my memory. I thought, even if the whole world abandoned me, Alexander Pierce wouldn’t. When I woke again, I smelled the antiseptic of a hospital. I lay in a VIP room, Alexander by my side. Seeing me awake, his deep eyes filled with joy and relief. “Amelia, you’re awake? Do you feel unwell anywhere?” I weakly shook my head, wanting to check if he was hurt. He pressed me gently back onto the pillows. “I’m fine, just superficial burns. What matters is that you and the baby are safe.” Baby? I instinctively stroked my flat stomach. The doctor had checked me and said I only suffered from smoke inhalation and a twisted ankle, nothing serious. The baby was also safe. Alexander, however, was still worried and insisted I stay for observation. My parents and Aurora also came, thanking Alexander profusely. My mother held Aurora’s hand, weeping like a broken doll, as if her most cherished youngest daughter was the one who had just narrowly escaped death. After Alexander escorted them out, the medication made me drowsy, and I drifted back to sleep. Time lost all meaning. I was pulled back to awareness by hushed, urgent voices just outside the door. I didn’t open my eyes, but their words pierced my ears, clear as day. It was my mother’s urgent voice. “Alexander…the baby. Amelia’s baby. The fire didn’t…harm it, did it?” “It’s fine. The doctors have confirmed. The fetus is perfectly healthy.” Alexander’s voice was as steady as ever, but devoid of the usual tenderness. “I was careless. I shouldn’t have put her in danger. This child is too important for Aurora.” Aurora? My heart constricted fiercely, a chilling cold spreading through my limbs. Then I heard my father sigh heavily. “Aurora’s heart probably can’t wait much longer. Alexander, once the baby is born-” “I’ve already made arrangements, Dad.” Alexander cut him off, his voice cold as ancient ice. “As long as the baby comes to term, that healthy little heart will save Aurora. That was the deal from the beginning. Marry Amelia. Get her pregnant. All for this.” To marry Amelia? To get her pregnant? It was all for this day. To take the heart of my unborn child to save Aurora? Boom-my world shattered into a million pieces. He had raced into the flames to save me, not out of love, but because my womb carried the spare parts for his true love. I wasn’t his heart. I was just a vessel, an incubator for a heart, expendable at any moment. Cold liquid flowed into my veins through the IV drip, and also into my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the blood in my body freeze inch by agonizing inch.

Amelia POV I don’t know how I walked out of that hospital room. In my mind, only Alexander’s cold, ruthless words echoed repeatedly. Marry Amelia, get her pregnant, it was all for this day. I slid down the wall to the floor, my chest aching, suffocating me. Tears streamed down, blurring the entire world. All the good he had given me, all his preferential treatment, it was all just for this as-yet-unformed heart in my belly. I was such a fool, grateful to him even as he ensnared me in his scheme. Just as I was on the verge of collapse, a familiar and shrill voice, laced with unconcealed triumph, drifted from behind the emergency exit door. It was Aurora. “…Don’t worry, everything’s going smoothly. Alexander is obsessed with me; he’ll do anything for me. Marry that Amelia? He’s just using her uterus.” My sobbing stopped instantly. I forced myself to stand, inching towards the door, peeking through the glass pane. Aurora was casually leaning against the window, talking on her phone, her face twisted with a malice completely unlike her usual gentle demeanor. “Congenital heart defect? Ha! You actually believe that? It’s just a few falsified medical records. Someone like Alexander, blinded by guilt and ‘love,’ believes whatever I tell him.” My mind went blank. Fake? Even that heart condition, which had burdened me with guilt for over a decade, was a lie? “He fell in love at first sight with a girl playing the cello under the sycamore tree all those years ago. He was practically blind. All he remembered was a white dress. He never knew it was Amelia, not me.” “I simply took her identity, played her role, and he bought it hook, line, and sinker. Now, he’s going to give me Amelia’s baby’s heart to cure a non-existent illness. Isn’t that hilarious?” “Once I have the heart and stage a little ‘miraculous recovery,’ I’ll be his beloved, plucked from death’s door. And Amelia? No baby, no purpose. Do you honestly believe Alexander will look at that empty husk twice?” The voice on the other end of the phone was indistinct, but Aurora’s triumphant laughter pricked my heart like needles. So, he had loved the wrong person. And I was the girl under the tree. I was the one he was looking for. My fingers turned white as I pulled out my phone, calmly pressed the record button, and captured all of Aurora’s further malicious plans. Only when Aurora hung up the phone did I put away my cell and walk back to my room. Alexander returned shortly, carrying the chicken soup I loved. Seeing me sitting quietly by the bed, he sighed with relief. “Why are you up? Shouldn’t you get more rest?” He walked over, habitually reaching out to touch my head. I instinctively flinched, avoiding his touch. His hand froze in mid-air, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” I looked up and smiled at him. “I just feel a bit unwell. My ankle is still aching, I think it might be worse than we thought.” Alexander immediately frowned. “I’ll go call the doctor for you.” “But…” I feigned hesitation, gently stroking my belly, my voice laced with worry, “the doctor said medication for pregnant women can have side effects and might affect the fetus. I’m a little scared.” I could feel Alexander’s gaze immediately fix on my stomach. “Alexander, I’m so afraid. I don’t want there to be any risk to this baby,” I said, my eyes welling up, my voice trembling. Sure enough, his expression darkened. What he cared about most was the absolute health of this child. “Then let’s not worry about it for now,” he decided immediately. “But I really am uncomfortable,” I looked at him, my voice breaking into a whimper. “The doctor said if I leave it untreated, it could lead to permanent damage. I’m scared… this kind of stress might harm the baby.” That sentence hit his weak spot. Alexander’s expression shifted repeatedly before he walked out of the room. He returned shortly, followed by a woman in a crisp white coat. I recognized her instantly. Dr. Harper. She was the chief obstetrician at this private hospital, but more importantly, she had been Aurora’s best friend since their university sorority days. Harper looked at me with a professionally detached gaze, though a flicker of disdain crossed her eyes. “Alexander, Amelia seems very stressed, which could induce contractions. While her vitals are stable, I strongly recommend a special sedative to soothe her nerves, along with some nutrient fluids to help the fetus develop.” Harper said, taking a tray with a small glass from a nurse. Alexander hesitated, his brows furrowed. “Is it safe for the baby?” “Of course. I’m Aurora’s best friend. Do you think I’d risk anything that could harm her future nephew? It’s merely to grant her peaceful rest. And rest, Alexander, is the greatest gift we can give the baby now.” Alexander nodded, his guard dropping instantly. He never questioned anyone in Aurora’s inner circle. “Thank you, Harper,” he said, then turned to me, his voice softening. “Amelia, listen to the doctor. Drink this and get some sleep.” Just then, Alexander’s phone rang-an urgent business call-and he stepped out into the hallway. Silence filled the room. Only Harper and I remained. She walked to the bedside, holding the glass of cloudy brown liquid. The professional smile vanished, replaced by a sneer. She leaned close, her voice hissing in my ear like a snake. “Amelia, Aurora is too kind for her own good. But I’m not. This bastard in your belly is the biggest obstacle between Aurora and Alexander. Once this ‘problem’ is dealt with, Alexander will kick you out, right back where you belong.” She had no idea. She had absolutely no idea that Aurora needed this baby alive. Aurora needed the heart. In Harper’s mind, she was merely fulfilling the duty of a loyal friend, eliminating a rival’s leverage. She believed that by inducing a miscarriage, she would ensure Aurora and Alexander’s marriage proceeded smoothly. The irony was almost too perfect to bear. Aurora’s most devoted ally was about to unwittingly burn down her entire life’s scheme.

Amelia POV Harper pressed the glass to my lips, her eyes full of menace. “This is a strong ‘calm-down’ medication. You might feel a little stomach ache, but you’ll sleep soundly. If you don’t drink it, I have plenty of ways to make sure you won’t stay in this hospital.” I looked at the cloudy liquid, and suddenly, everything became crystal clear in my mind. If I drank this, my baby would die, but he would die whole. He wouldn’t suffer the prolonged agony of being kept alive only to be cruelly murdered for his heart. If I refused and gave birth, my child would face a fate far more cruel than death. “Lord, forgive me,” I murmured silently. “I am not the one holding the blade. I am merely… ceasing to struggle.” I looked up, my hands trembling as I took the glass. “Alright,” I whispered, “I’ll drink it.” Under Harper’s triumphant gaze, I tilted my head back and swallowed the bitter, pungent concoction in one gulp. Harper clapped her hands softly, a satisfied smirk on her face. “Good girl. Sleep now. When you wake up, everything will be ‘better.’” She turned and left, the door clicking shut behind her. I leaned back on the pillow, waiting for the judgment to come. Harper, you, with your own hands, had destroyed Aurora’s only lifeline. The medication worked quickly, but it was potent. At midnight, a thunderstorm raged over Manhattan. The thunder rattled the windowpanes, drowning out my heavy breathing. A violent spasm seized me, my abdomen twisting and tearing, as if an invisible hand reached inside me, ripping everything to shreds. I bit down hard, my teeth aching, cold sweat drenching my hospital gown. The pain was clear, brutal, absolute. But I didn’t utter a sound. No operating table, no cold surgical instruments. Only the darkness of the VIP suite, and the slow draining of my life. I curled up under the blankets, feeling a warm gush of fluid from my body. Every time a life departs, a part of a mother’s soul breaks. I remembered Alexander’s smile the first time he learned I was pregnant. I remembered the fragile, fake bubble of happiness I once lived in. I’m sorry, my baby. Mama couldn’t protect you. Mama only hoped you could leave this dirty world unharmed. Better to return to God than to become a harvest for the wicked. I don’t know how long it was before the pain subsided, replaced by an empty, chilling loneliness. Gathering my last strength, I dragged my exhausted body to the bathroom and cleaned up the evidence. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror-my face pale as a ghost, my eyes dry, not a single tear trace, only a deathly silence. It was over. The “medicine” that could save Aurora was gone. The next morning, Harper came to the hospital, ostensibly for rounds. She dismissed the nurses and performed a quick examination. Seeing the results, a triumphant smile played on her lips. “Looks like you slept well,” she said. “Some things are just not meant to last. Now, you’re just a useless ex-wife.” She thought she had done Aurora a huge favor. I looked at her, feigning the weak, helpless, heartbroken victim. I put on a terrified front, widening my eyes. “My stomach… why does it feel so empty…” “Shh.” Harper pressed a finger to my lips. “Keep your voice down. Unless you want Alexander to know you’re too weak to carry his precious heir, then keep quiet. I’ll tamper with the medical records. As long as you stay silent, no one will know for now.” To avoid a malpractice lawsuit or an investigation into illegal drugs, she offered to help me cover it up. This was exactly what I wanted. “Please.” I clutched her sleeve, pretending to burst into tears. “Don’t tell Alexander. He’ll kill me.” “Hmph. You’d better leave the Pierce family soon.” She flung my hand away, strutting out of the room like a queen. I watched her retreating back, a faint, cold smile playing on my lips. Now, only one person in the world knew about my baby’s death. As long as Dr. Harper disappeared, this secret could be kept until I was ready to drop the bombshell.

Amelia POV I stayed in the hospital for two more days, behaving unusually docilely. Alexander visited me daily, completely unaware. He looked at my abdomen with anticipation-where a prosthesis was carefully padded. The night before I was discharged, Alexander sat by my bed, peeling an apple. “Amelia, you’ve been so brave these past few days. Harper says you’re recovering very well.” I picked up a slice of apple, chewed slowly, then casually remarked, “Yes, it’s all thanks to Harper. You know, Alexander… when I chatted with Harper, she confided her dream to me. She’s always wanted to be a researcher at UCLA Medical Center. It’s one of the top obstetrics and gynecology research institutions in the world.” Alexander paused, the knife suspended above the fruit. “Really? She never mentioned it to me.” “She’s too proud, too embarrassed to ask. Because she’s Aurora’s best friend, she didn’t want you to think she was using her connections,” I sighed, my tone serious. “But she’s taken such good care of me. I’d feel so guilty if we didn’t help her. Besides, if she studies there, think of what excellent medical care she could provide Aurora when she returns.” At the mention of “taking care of Aurora,” Alexander’s interest was piqued. “You have a point,” he nodded. “The Pierce Group has sponsorship funds at UCLA. Talent shouldn’t be buried. This would be a career-changing opportunity for her.” “And it has to be soon,” I added, pressing my advantage. “I heard the program starts next week. If she misses it, she’ll have to wait a whole year.” “Alright. I’ll have my assistant arrange it right away.” Alexander was always decisive, pulling out his phone on the spot. As he dialed, I lowered my head and took another bite of the apple. Crisp. Sweet. The next morning, Dr. Harper was summoned to the hospital director’s office. Instead of an inquiry into medical malpractice, she was offered a prestigious, fully funded scholarship to UCLA, along with a first-class ticket departing that very afternoon. Rumor had it she nearly fainted with joy. She presumed Aurora had pulled strings with Alexander for her. She barely packed, rushing to JFK Airport to catch her flight to the West Coast. She never dreamed that this so-called “bright future” was a golden cage I had built to silence her. I needed her far away so she wouldn’t discover that Aurora didn’t want the baby to die-she wanted its heart. If Harper had stayed, she would have quickly realized her mistake. … I stayed in the hospital for three more days, refusing all visitors. Alexander sent flowers and health supplements through his assistant, which I sent back. When he called, I pretended to be very tired, telling him to focus on his work. He praised me for being “understanding.” He had no idea I was recovering from a mother’s most profound trauma. The day of my discharge, the weather was overcast. Alexander’s assistant waited promptly at the door, respectfully opening the car for me. “Madam, Mr. Pierce sent me to take you home.” “No need,” I refused calmly, turning to hail a yellow cab. In the rearview mirror, I could see the assistant’s bewildered face. The car drove towards Sycamore Estate. As we neared the entrance, I asked the driver to stop a good distance away. Through the car window, I saw an incredibly heartwarming scene. Alexander, my parents, were all doting on Aurora, showering her with affection. Aurora, dressed in an expensive white dress, pouted playfully, charming Alexander. My mother lovingly tidied her disheveled hair. The four of them stood together, like a perfect painting. And I, like an outsider who couldn’t bear the light of day, hid in a taxi, spying on everything that should have been mine. My husband. My parents. Their devotion, a river that flowed only to the impostor who lived in my stolen skin. And I had just ended an innocent life, all alone. The familiar, rending ache bloomed again in my chest. This time, I didn’t look away. I let my eyes drink in the scene, let it sear itself onto the marrow of my bones. I never forgot that these people had forfeited all mercy. Only when their laughter had dissolved into the villa did I slip inside through the side door. The villa was empty. They were probably all in the side parlor with Aurora. I went straight upstairs to the bedroom and dialed the number of the Mother Superior at St. Jude’s Abbey. “Mother Superior, it’s Amelia.” “Amelia, may God be with you,” the nun’s voice was calm and peaceful. “Mother, I wanted to ask, does the abbey still take in broken hearts?” My voice had a slight tremor. There was a long silence on the other end. “The Lord’s door is always open for you. Come, St. Jude’s Abbey is always at your service.” “Thank you.” Then, I pulled out my phone again and drafted a scheduled email. The recipient was Alexander. The attachment was a photo. A photo of that tiny, fully formed fetus, suspended in a jar of formalin. I stared at the heartbreaking picture, my finger hovering over the send button, yet unable to press it. Not yet. I would wait for the perfect moment to drag them all into hell.

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To please my wealthy husband, I signed up for an embarrassing “Wives’ Training Camp.” The coach pressed down on both sides of my knees, forcing my thighs to spread outward. The tearing pain made me gasp heavily: “Ahh, Jake, no more…” A sly glint flashed in his eyes: “You have to train your body to be soft enough—only then will men like it.” 1 My name is Sophia, I’m 30 years old, and I’ve been married to my rich husband Richard for almost three years. Originally, all I had to do was enjoy my comfortable life as a trophy wife, but recently I found some inappropriate messages on his phone. It gave me a sense of crisis. I met Richard through Anna’s “How to Marry a Millionaire” coaching program—I spent nearly $200,000 on her course to land him. If he cheats, fine, but if that clueless little mistress tries to take my place, wouldn’t all my effort have been wasted? “Mr. Richard, tonight I’m wearing black stockings waiting for you~” “Mr. Richard, if you ever feel unsatisfied with your wife, come to me, okay?” All the messages were from someone named Taylor. Taylor is his secretary. Even though Richard never replied, I had a feeling something had already happened between them. The bathroom door opened. I quickly put the phone back. Richard walked out with just a towel around his waist. Tonight was the first time this month he’d come home. I’d specially put on sexy lingerie, but he only glanced at it, seeming uninterested. I felt a little deflated. “Honey, you’re finally home—do you like what I’m wearing tonight?” I asked shyly. I twisted my body and looked at him with affectionate eyes. I clearly saw a slight movement under the towel. I hooked my arms around his neck and rubbed my full breasts against him. Soon the room grew steamy. I reached climax quickly. Richard sensed it and pulled away—but he hadn’t finished. “Honey, aren’t we continuing?” I asked, confused. For months it had been like this: he’d withdraw before finishing. That was what really worried me—if he wasn’t even interested in my body anymore, wouldn’t the mistress eventually replace me? “We’ll continue when you learn some new tricks. I still have work to do—I’m going to the study.” He threw out that line, got dressed, and left, leaving me lying alone on the bed, frustrated. Although Anna had personally trained me, my bedroom skills clearly couldn’t compare to those young vixens out there. This couldn’t go on—I hadn’t enjoyed my trophy-wife life nearly enough yet. The next day Richard went to work. I was about to head out for afternoon tea when Anna called. “Sophia, you free this afternoon? Same place for tea?” Anna and I stayed in touch often. With all my recent troubles and no one to talk to, her invitation was perfect. I happily agreed. The moment we met, she saw something was wrong. “How come in less than a month you look so worn out? Is the trophy-wife life not all it’s cracked up to be?” There was teasing in her tone. I sipped my latte and opened up: “It’s Richard—he seems to be cheating lately, and he’s not as passionate with me anymore.” Anna was the person I trusted most, so I was always direct with her. “Sweetie, men crave novelty. If you want to keep him, you need some new tricks,” Anna said with a knowing smirk. Her words echoed exactly what Richard had said—both telling me to learn something new. “I trained you myself—I know exactly what you’re missing. Come with me to a place; I guarantee it’ll fix your problem.” Now I was really curious. In elite circles, Anna was famous as a matchmaker. Countless wealthy men’s innocent wives had been introduced through her, so I had full confidence in her abilities. 2 Anna drove me to a high-end gym in downtown Manhattan. “Is this for body sculpting?” I asked, puzzled. My figure was already curvy in all the right places—pretty good, if I do say so myself. “You’ll see when we get inside,” Anna said mysteriously. At first the gym looked normal—just a luxury fitness center, nothing special. But then Anna led me to a side door. When she pushed it open, it was a completely different world. She guided me down a hallway lined with posters of gorgeous women showing off their bodies—nothing too unusual. At the end was another door. Though dimly lit, I could clearly read the large sign: “Wives’ Training Camp.” Instant shame washed over me—what on earth was this place? Anna pulled me inside. I was stunned by what I saw. A group of incredibly ripped male trainers were helping women perform highly suggestive, difficult bedroom positions. Anna and I sat on a nearby bench. “Just watch for now.” Every trainer had eight-pack abs, shirtless, their lightly tanned skin glistening with sweat—pure sex appeal. The women being put through the poses wore expressions of discomfort, yet upon closer look there was also a hint of frustrated desire. “Anna, what is this?” “Exactly what it looks like. It’s the Wives’ Training Camp. Wealthy wives who feel threatened come here to develop their bodies or learn new bedroom techniques to keep their husbands.” Anna gave me a meaningful glance. I’d only ever read about things like this in online erotica—never imagined it existed in real life. Anna pointed to a woman farther away whose legs were being pressed over her shoulders: “See her? That’s Vanessa, wife of a major real-estate tycoon. She’s almost forty.” I was still in shock when a man approached. “Hey Anna, want to grab coffee across the street?” Through Anna I learned this was Jake, head coach of the Wives’ Training Camp. Jake looked under thirty, over six feet tall with a muscular build. His tight workout pants outlined everything perfectly. I couldn’t help glancing there, then quickly looked away. God, I felt like a total perv. “Sophia’s husband hasn’t been fully satisfied in bed for the past couple of months. See if you have any courses that can help her keep him.” Anna was blunt—even in front of a guy my age—which made my face burn. Jake didn’t dodge the topic. “No problem. Many wives in the same situation have fixed it after our program. And Mrs. Sophia is so beautiful—our courses are just a boost.” His direct compliment flustered me. Who could resist appreciation from a gorgeous, fit guy like him? Still, I hesitated. “Do these courses really work?” Anna and Jake exchanged a look. “If they didn’t, no one would come, right? And you trust me, don’t you?” Fair point, but I wanted to think it over. 3 After adding Jake on WhatsApp, I went home. That night Richard came back from work. He was leaving on another business trip soon, meaning another long stretch without intimacy. So I’d prepared scented candles for seduction. But Richard still wasn’t impressed. “Same old moves every time.” His tone was reproachful and impatient, leaving me even more discouraged. Late that night Jake messaged me. “Sorry Mrs. Sophia, just finished up. Here are a few of our course descriptions—take a look.” He sent the program details. The first was body flexibility training. Remembering today’s scenes, I felt shy. The second was advanced bedroom techniques—the photos made me blush. The third… live practice. My heart sank—if it involved real partners, wasn’t that cheating? No way. So I only signed up for the first two courses with Jake. Richard was snoring beside me while the animated demos on my phone made me restless. My hand slid downward on its own—I was already wet. The next day at noon, Jake greeted me warmly. “Mrs. Sophia, you’re in my group, so I’ll personally guide you through both courses.” I felt a secret thrill—my first impression of Jake had been good anyway. He took me to change into workout clothes. His strong hand gripped my wrist; my back pressed tightly against his chest. It had been so long since I’d felt a man’s raw strength. Richard was no slouch in bed, but we’d barely been intimate these past months—and I’m a woman with a high sex drive. The contact made me tense. Jake sensed it and whispered in my ear: “Relax, Mrs. Sophia. A woman’s body should be soft like water. These warm-ups are meant to fully loosen you up.” It made sense. But every move caused my hips to accidentally brush against his bulge, sending tingles through me. I took deep breaths, trying to stay calm, telling myself it was just normal training—don’t overthink it. Yet I couldn’t ignore his heavy breathing in my ear. Jake’s calloused fingers slid slowly from my arms down to my waist. “Most women are sensitive around the waist—relax it properly.” He gently kneaded as he spoke. I bit my lip, trying not to let him notice my reaction. If I went to the bathroom right now, I’d probably find myself soaked. The shameful physical response embarrassed and frustrated me, yet I couldn’t wait for the next move. “Alright, your body is fully relaxed now.” Warm-up finally over. I exhaled in relief, tiny beads of sweat on my forehead. Jake smiled. “Mrs. Sophia, do you not exercise much? You seem winded already.” I answered his teasing honestly: “Yeah, I’ve been slacking. I might even sign up for your regular gym later.” After a short break we began the official flexibility training. Since I’d paid for VIP, I had a private training room, which let me relax more. Jake had me lie flat on the mat, then gently spread my legs. I resisted a little. “Mrs. Sophia, relax. Only with enough flexibility can you do advanced positions.” He sounded completely professional, but my face burned. He adjusted me carefully while applying light pressure. Enduring the embarrassment, I let him position me—and strangely felt a thrill of submission. Jake pressed on both sides of my knees, forcing my thighs outward. 4 The tearing pain made me gasp: “Ahh, Coach, no more…” A sly glint flashed in his eyes: “You have to train your body to be soft enough—only then will your husband like it.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “326708”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #擦边Steamy