Category: English

For three years, I built supply chains across Southeast Asia and carved out a billion-dollar empire for Liam Holt. The day I came back happened to be the third anniversary gala of Holt Group. I pushed open the banquet hall doors, still dusty from the road. But Liam was standing in the blazing light, arm-in-arm with the wealthy socialite Serena Walsh. That same night, Liam handed me divorce papers. “Ava, the company is under investigation for money laundering. I need Serena’s support. Don’t worry—even after the divorce, I’ll still love you.” When I said nothing, he took my hand and continued with practiced tenderness: “Serena doesn’t have your skills. I’ll still need you to guide her through the work. From now on, we’re all family.” I looked at his hollow face and signed without hesitation. Liam thought I was a vine that could only survive wrapped around him. He had no idea that the lifeblood of Holt Group was never in Serena’s hands. Once the papers were signed, Liam folded them away with satisfaction. “Thank you for your patience, Ava.” He walked over and reached out to touch my shoulder, but I stepped aside. His hand froze in mid-air. He pulled it back like nothing had happened, then reached into his suit jacket and produced a black card. “Take this. The PIN is still Noah’s birthday. The divorce is just a formality, but I know it hurts. Think of it as compensation.” I took the card and slipped it into the pocket of my mud-stained jacket. “This is the least I deserve.” My calm tone made him frown slightly. He seemed to want tears, accusations—not this cold indifference. The lounge door swung open. Serena walked in carrying two glasses of champagne, all smiles. “Mrs. Holt… oh, I mean, Ava—is that outfit custom-made from Southeast Asia? It has a certain… wild charm.” She held out a glass to me, the contempt in her eyes completely undisguised. I didn’t take it. “Miss Walsh, I’m not divorced yet. You should still be calling me Mrs. Holt.” Serena’s face went pale for a moment. She looked to Liam for help. Liam immediately smoothed things over: “Ava just got back. She’s tired—just kidding around.” He put his arm around Serena’s shoulders, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it: “Go entertain the guests. I’ll be right there.” After Serena left, the warmth faded from Liam’s face. “Ava, stop being petty. The bigger picture matters. You know I’m doing all of this for the company—for us.” “Where’s our son?” “In the side room. My assistant Ethan is with him.” I didn’t bother with another word and walked out. I pushed open the side room door. Three-year-old Noah was sitting quietly in the corner of a sofa, holding a battered old Transformer. When he saw me, his eyes lit up instantly. He scrambled across the room on his little legs. “Mommy!” I crouched down and pulled him tight against my chest. He smelled like warm milk—the same familiar scent I’d missed for three years. In those three years, I had missed so much of his growing up. “Noah’s been such a good boy.” Liam came in behind me. He crouched down too, reaching out to ruffle Noah’s hair like a devoted father. But Noah instinctively pressed closer into me. The distance between father and son made Liam’s hand freeze again. Just then, Serena followed him in, pulling a beautifully wrapped gift box from her clutch. “Noah, look—I brought you a present. It’s the brand-new LEGO Star Destroyer.” But Noah just buried his face in my neck and whispered: “Mommy, I want the one you got me.” What I’d gotten him was a marked-down toy from an airport gift shop on the way back. Serena’s expression soured. I stood up with Noah in my arms and looked at Liam. “I’m taking Noah home.” “Fine.” Liam nodded, then added: “The money laundering files—I’ll have Ethan send them over first thing tomorrow. Come up with a damage control plan as fast as you can. And Serena… help her get up to speed.” He said it like everything I did for him was simply expected. I looked at him and, for a moment, I almost laughed. “Liam, do you know what I brought back with me from this trip?” He assumed I was about to claim credit for the billion-dollar contracts, and a flicker of irritation crossed his eyes. “I know you worked hard. Don’t worry—the company’s keeping track of everything you’ve contributed.” “No.” I shook my head, and said each word clearly: “What I brought back is the engagement gift—for you and Miss Walsh.” Then I walked past him with Noah in my arms and didn’t look back. I buckled Noah into his car seat and made a call. On the other end of the line was my old partner from Wall Street. “Ava, you’re back?” “Yeah.” I watched the city lights blur past the window. “Get the debt liquidation proceedings against the Walsh Group started.” “Now? But Liam—” “No more waiting.” I cut him off. “He’s already chosen his path.” And I was choosing mine.

The next morning. Top floor of Holt Group. Ethan set a thick stack of “classified documents” in front of me, his expression uneasy. “Ms. Linne… Mr. Holt has asked that you review these materials related to the money laundering investigation. He needs a legal mitigation strategy within three days.” I glanced at the cover. “Ms. Linne?” I gave a short, humorless laugh. “Didn’t take long to change your tune.” Ethan lowered his head and said nothing. Ten minutes later, I closed the file. My eyes had gone cold. The documents were real. But the so-called “investigation targeting Holt Group” was not. The data was riddled with inconsistencies. There was no real criminal exposure here. At most, this was a smokescreen—fabricated by Liam to strip assets and shuffle funds. He had invented a crisis that didn’t exist, then used it to pressure me into signing those divorce papers. The whole thing had one purpose: to get me to step aside and make room for Serena. “Where’s Liam?” “Mr. Holt is… he’s hosting a celebration for Miss Walsh.” I stood up and walked toward the conference room. Liam stood in front of the projection screen, looking every inch the conquering hero. The screen displayed the Southeast Asia herbal supply chain—the one I’d spent three years and nearly my life building. “This breakthrough in our overseas supply chain was made possible entirely by Miss Walsh, who leveraged her family’s connections across Southeast Asia. She is the reason Holt Group has risen from the ashes!” Liam’s voice rang out, barely containing his pride. Serena sat beside him, smiling with practiced grace. The executives fell over themselves to agree: “Miss Walsh is truly remarkable—she’s only just returned and she’s already achieved something extraordinary!” I stood in the doorway and watched this farcical little theft play out. Liam spotted me. A flash of panic crossed his face, then was quickly replaced by cold dismissal. “Ava, what are you doing here? If you’re not feeling well, go rest.” He crossed the room quickly and dropped his voice low: “Serena is officially the Head of Supply Chain now. Your job is to be a ‘consultant.’ Nothing more.” I looked at him, and the last flicker of warmth in my chest went out completely. “Don’t worry, Mr. Holt,” I said evenly. “I’m only here to transfer the non-performing debt portfolio.” In the divorce agreement, I had waived all rights to real estate. The only thing I took was a three-hundred-million-dollar collection of “dead debt”—debts Holt Group had been carrying overseas for years, written off as uncollectible. When I brought it up, contempt flickered in Liam’s eyes. Those debts were loans the Walsh family had taken out overseas at punishing interest rates. Because of their age and the complicated parties involved, Liam had always treated them as worthless paper. “Take it. Holt Group doesn’t need those write-offs.” Serena walked over and reached for my hand with an air of false warmth. “Ava, don’t be angry. Liam is trying to protect you. Southeast Asia is too dangerous. From now on, leave the public-facing work to me.” Then she dropped her voice so only I could hear: “I stole your man and your credit. Isn’t that just… so embarrassing for me?” I closed my hand around her wrist. Hard. Serena gasped. The color drained from her face. “Miss Walsh,” I said, holding her gaze, each word deliberate: “Southeast Asia is full of things that can bite. A woman with your delicate constitution should be very, very careful.” Liam shoved me back, stepping between me and Serena. “Ava! What is wrong with you?!” I took one step back and smoothed the wrinkle he’d made in my jacket. “I’m not done yet.” I pulled out a debt transfer confirmation and dropped it on the table. “Mr. Holt, sign this. As of right now, the three-hundred-million-dollar debt that the Walsh family owes Holt Group is formally transferred to my name—Ava Linne.” Liam signed without even reading it. In his mind, I was venting helpless frustration. Grabbing a few scraps to get by on. He had no idea that the Walsh family was never the elite dynasty he thought it was. Serena’s father had burned through the family fortune in Southeast Asia. The three-hundred-million-dollar IOU was backed by collateral—the Walsh family’s entire equity stake in Holt Group. I walked out of the building and dialed a number. “Tell the debt collectors the Walsh debt is mine now.” “Starting tomorrow—maximum compounding interest. Send them to the Walsh family’s front door.”

Liam brought Serena into my office while I was reviewing a secondary compound analysis report on Southeast Asian herbs. “Ava, walk Serena through the core chapters of the IPO prospectus.” He leaned both hands on my desk, his tone leaving no room for debate. “Serena is handling the investor roadshow. Help her polish the presentation.” Serena settled into the leather chair across from me like she owned the place. “Ava, Liam says you’re the best at doing the grunt work.” She pulled a document out of her bag—one that had been rewritten beyond recognition—and tossed it in front of me. “All those numbers are so boring. I rewrote it as a brand story. Just work the technical data back in somehow.” I opened the so-called proposal. It was nothing but hollow buzzwords. She had even listed the herbal degradation rate as one hundred percent. If this ever went public, Holt Group would be fined into bankruptcy by regulators. “I can’t work with this.” “Miss Walsh, biotech isn’t luxury retail. Falsifying data is a federal crime.” Serena’s face fell instantly. “Liam, are you hearing this—” Liam straightened up, clearly displeased, his eyes going cold. “Ava, don’t bring your personal feelings into the office. Serena’s family connections will triple Holt Group’s market premium.” He came around behind me, leaned down, and spoke quietly into my ear: “Don’t forget—you’re still living under this roof. For Noah’s sake, you need to let Serena hold this position.” I closed my eyes for a moment. This wasn’t just an assault on my emotions. It was the murder of my professional dignity. “Fine.” I opened my eyes, keeping my voice level. “I’ll rewrite it.” Liam’s expression relaxed. He gave my shoulder a satisfied pat. “Good. There’s a charity gala tonight. Serena is attending as co-founder. You’ll be there as her accompanying consultant.” At three in the afternoon, Serena arrived with her personal stylist and took over my private lounge like she owned it. Right in front of me, she changed into a gown covered in diamond fragments. It was the dress Liam had bought at a Paris auction last year—the one he’d said was my thirtieth birthday gift. “Ava, this dress fits a little tight. Liam said it was made especially for ‘the lady of the house.’” She turned left and right in front of the mirror, then glanced at my black blazer. “You look like an office assistant. Noah will be there tonight—don’t you want to make a better impression for him?” When she mentioned Noah, I felt the air go still in my chest. Liam wanted to parade Noah at the gala to perform the image of a happy family. “Miss Walsh, a beautiful dress means nothing if the person wearing it can’t carry herself. It just looks ridiculous.” I didn’t look at her again. I picked up my laptop and walked out. In the hallway, I dialed a number. “Get the liquidation team ready. Tonight at the gala, I’m giving Mr. Holt a very special IPO gift.” Three hours later. The charity gala. Holt Group arrived in full force. Every camera in the room was aimed at Liam and Serena by his side. The press called them “the golden couple of the investment world.” And I stood in the shadows beyond the lights, holding Noah’s hand. Noah tugged at my sleeve, uneasy. “Mommy, why won’t Daddy hold our hands?” I crouched down and straightened the bow tie on his little suit. “Noah, in a little while, watch Mommy do a magic trick.” “When it’s done, we’ll be free.”

The gala was in full swing, the crystal chandeliers scattering sharp light across the hall. I was peeling a shrimp for Noah when a piercing shriek cut through the noise nearby. “Waaah! He hit me! That little brat with no dad hit me!” I spun around. Serena’s nephew was clutching his face, sobbing. And Noah had been shoved down onto the hard marble floor, a red welt forming on his forehead where it had struck the corner of a table. Serena came rushing over: “Oh my God, Tyler! Are you hurt? What kind of child does something like this? Completely out of control!” The guests nearby turned to stare, murmuring to each other: “Isn’t that the ex-wife’s kid? Figures he’d cause a scene.” “I heard his own father doesn’t want him. No wonder he’s like this.” I dropped my napkin and crossed the room in seconds, pulling Noah into my arms. He was shaking. “I didn’t push him…” Noah was crying, pointing at the pieces of his Transformer scattered across the floor. “He grabbed my toy. And he called Mommy a… a bad word.” Liam walked over, his face hard. He didn’t even glance at Noah’s injury. His first move was to pull Serena to him. Then he turned on me: “Ava! Take him outside! Why would you bring a child to something like this?” “Making a scene?” “Liam, are you blind? Look at who’s actually hurt here.” Serena leaned against Liam and dabbed at her eyes with theatrical delicacy: “Liam, it’s fine. Ava’s been raising Noah alone—it’s hard, kids act out. But Tyler is my family’s pride and joy. If my father hears about this, the investment into Holt Group…” The word “investment” landed like a trigger. Liam’s expression shifted—cold, hard, and resolute. He stared at me: “Apologize to Serena. Apologize to Tyler.” I was holding Noah. My hands were trembling. “What did you just say?” “Apologize!” Liam’s voice went harder. “Don’t let your selfishness destroy Holt Group’s future.” I looked at this man I had once fought through everything alongside, and the very last ember of warmth inside me went dark. “Alright.” I set Noah down and slowly stood up. Liam thought I was yielding. His expression eased slightly. The next second, I picked up a glass of red wine from the nearest table and threw it across Serena’s million-dollar gown without warning. Then, before anyone could react, I stepped forward and slapped her—clean and sharp. Crack. The entire hall went silent. “That one was for my son.” I held Serena’s gaze as she reeled from the blow. Then I turned to Liam. From my clutch, I pulled out the IPO prospectus he’d been guarding like his life depended on it. Under his horrified stare, I tore it apart. “Liam, the dynasty you’ve been dreaming of is nothing but a shell.” I spoke loud enough for the entire room to hear, and dropped the bombshell cold: “The Walsh family’s assets in Southeast Asia have been frozen. Serena’s three hundred million in debt is due today.” The color left Liam’s face instantly. He grabbed Serena’s wrist: “Is it true? The Walsh family—” Serena began to stammer a response, but at that moment, the gala doors burst open. Several men in black suits with hard faces pushed their way inside. The man in front held up a debt certificate stamped with Southeast Asian legal seals: “Miss Walsh—with compounding interest, that comes to three hundred and fifty million dollars. Ms. Linne sent us to collect.” Liam looked like he’d been struck by lightning. He turned to me, his eyes filled with terror and dawning regret. “Ava… what have you done?” At that moment, his phone erupted with alerts. Ethan’s voice cut through the stunned silence in the hall: “Mr. Holt! The IPO application has been rejected!” “The regulators received an anonymous tip—financial fraud. The Walsh family’s assets are all non-performing debt!” Liam collapsed into a chair. He watched my back as I walked away, and he finally understood. He had thrown away a god and welcomed a ghost into his house instead. The moment I stepped through the doors, I made the call. “Ava, what’s next?” I looked up at the stars scattered across the night sky, my voice perfectly calm: “Liquidate Liam. I want him left with nothing.”

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The day my brother was diagnosed with vocal cord polyps, an unprecedented argument erupted in our house. Five million in penalty fees, five hundred thousand for surgery. For a family already crushed by my medical expenses, these were astronomical numbers. Mom pointed at me huddled in the corner of the sofa wearing headphones, breaking down in tears: “Why wasn’t he the one who went mute back then? Why does one have to be mute, and the other has to become mute too!” My brother Liam stormed out, slamming the door. Before leaving, his eyes red, he looked at me coldly: “Mara, if I were the beneficiary of that accident insurance policy, how wonderful that would be.” I took off my headphones. There was actually no music playing inside. Ever since that fire five years ago when I rescued my brother, I could no longer make a sound, and my left hand could no longer play the violin. I looked at the “High-Value Accidental Death Insurance Policy” on the table. Dad had bought it years ago, gritting his teeth through the payments, worried that no one would take care of me—a disabled person—in the future. The beneficiary was listed as the legal heirs. I glanced at the bottle of antidepressants hidden in my pocket. I thought, Liam was right. With just one accident, my brother could use the money to cure his voice, and he could use the songs I’d hidden in my violin case to continue shining on stage. This time, I really won’t be a burden to you anymore.

The soundproofing in the house was terrible. The oppressive sounds of argument from the living room seeped through the door crack and drilled into my ears. “Sell the house? Have you lost your mind? If we sell the house, where will the four of us live? Sleep on the streets?” Mom’s voice was shrill and broken, choked with sobs. “Then what do you suggest? Five million in penalties, five hundred thousand for surgery! Even if we sold our old bones, it wouldn’t be enough!” Dad slammed the ashtray down with a clang. “Liam’s voice can’t wait! The doctor said the earlier the surgery, the better the recovery. If we delay and it becomes chronic, his career will truly be over!” “Why is my life so bitter…” Mom’s crying came in fits and starts. “We shouldn’t have been so soft-hearted back then… These past few years treating that mute’s depression, paying for surgery on that useless hand—the family’s savings were completely drained. If we still had that money…” “Enough! Stop it!” Dad sighed heavily. “What’s the point of saying this now? She’s Liam’s biological sister. During the fire, she only got hurt because she was saving Liam…” “What good did saving him do? She’s dragged down the whole family for life!” Mom screamed hysterically. “If I’d known it would come to this, I’d rather have back then…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but I knew what she wanted to say. I also knew she wasn’t truly cruel. She was just too tired, too desperate. People bent under life’s heavy burdens always need an outlet. And I was that perfect outlet. By the moonlight streaming through the window, I looked at myself in the mirror. Pale face, vacant eyes—like a wandering ghost in the mortal world. Yes, I was a burden. What value did my existence have besides creating problems for this family? I touched my pocket, where I had a few hundred dollars secretly saved up. It was my private stash, accumulated by deliberately taking fewer pills, scraping together a little at a time. Under cover of darkness, I slipped out to the pharmacy. Standing at the counter, I typed on my phone to show the clerk: [Do you have the best throat-soothing lozenges? The kind that’s handmade and helps relieve vocal cord polyps?] The clerk pulled out a glass jar from the cabinet. “This one’s from an old established brand, made purely with natural ingredients. The effect is especially good, just a bit expensive—over three hundred dollars.” Over three hundred dollars. Nearly all my savings.

Without hesitation, I nodded and paid. Walking back with that heavy glass jar, my steps felt much lighter. I remembered when we were little, Liam loved sweets the most. Every time he caught a cold and coughed, he’d beg for throat-soothing syrup. Back then the family was poor, so Mom could only make it herself, and he always complained it wasn’t sweet enough. This expensive jar I bought—it should be really sweet, right? When I got home, I tiptoed to Liam’s bedroom door. I didn’t dare knock, afraid he’d see me and lose his temper again. I carefully placed the jar of lozenges at his door, positioning it where he’d see it as soon as he opened the door, silently saying: Liam, good night. The next morning, Liam sat at the dining table eating breakfast, his face terrifyingly dark. Mom carefully peeled an egg for him: “Liam, eat something. Skipping breakfast is bad for your stomach.” “I’m not eating! I’m full of anger already!” Liam threw down his fork. “I’m already irritated, and first thing this morning I open my door to see that unlucky thing!” My heart lurched. Following his gaze, I saw the jar of lozenges lying in the trash can. “That… the packaging looks pretty nice…” Mom quietly tried to reason with him. Liam let out a cold laugh. “Mom, look at her pathetic state—what good thing could she possibly afford? This kind of product from who-knows-where, do you want me to eat it and ruin my voice?” “What if something goes wrong? Can she compensate for it?” “A mute—being a useless person herself is bad enough, and now she wants to harm me!” He stood up, and as he passed the trash can, he gave it another vicious kick. The glass jar rolled in the trash can, mixing with the dirty water inside, becoming filthy and polluted. Just like my heart—offered to him with good intentions, only to be trampled under his feet with disgust. I stood at the bedroom door, silently closed it, slid down against the door panel to the floor, and pulled out from my pocket the insurance policy I’d already signed. Liam was right. I truly couldn’t compensate. But my life—that should be enough compensation. Since you looked down on that three-hundred-dollar jar of lozenges, Then this five-million-dollar gift—you should be satisfied with that, right? I closed my eyes and revealed a bleak smile. Liam, don’t worry. The best medicine—your sister is already preparing it for you. It was an unusually violent rainstorm. Lightning bolt after lightning bolt struck down, illuminating this crumbling old apartment complex. Another tremendous crash, and the window buzzed and trembled. I lifted my head groggily and through the window saw a silver-gray performance outfit hanging on the balcony. It was Liam’s most treasured piece of clothing, the battle robe he planned to wear for his comeback. Custom-made by hand, covered with Swarovski crystals. To buy this outfit, Mom had scrimped and saved, even cutting off my physical therapy fees for a month. At this moment, that expensive outfit was swaying violently in the wind and rain, about to be soaked through. If this outfit was ruined… I could imagine Liam’s furious reaction, Mom’s breakdown and sobbing, imagine them pointing at my nose and cursing: “Don’t you have any awareness? It’s raining and you don’t know to bring in the clothes? You just sat inside watching it get soaked?” I smiled bitterly. Yes, I was useless, but I still needed to be useful trash with some awareness. Supporting myself against the wall, I stumbled out of my room and pushed open the glass door to the balcony. The fierce wind mixed with icy rain hit my face. I shivered, nearly blown over by the wind. Our balcony was very old. The railing was one of those iron barriers from over a decade ago. A few days earlier, property management had issued a notice saying this batch of railings had safety issues and asked each household to pay attention to repairs. Dad had looked at it and sighed. “Repair what? Replacing a railing costs several thousand. Where does the family have spare money now? Just make do. Just don’t lean on it normally.” Don’t lean on it. I looked at that iron railing swaying precariously in the wind and rain, and suddenly that crazy thought flashed through my mind. Wasn’t this… the perfect opportunity? Heavy rain, slippery ground, an old and damaged railing, a sister trying to save her brother’s expensive performance outfit. Everything was so reasonable. Everything was so seamless. I took a deep breath of the moist air thick with the smell of earth. My chest, which had felt suffocated for so long, actually felt a trace of long-lost relief in this moment. Step by step, I moved toward the edge of the balcony. The rain quickly soaked my hair and pajamas, ice-cold and piercing, yet it made my muddled brain unusually clear. I reached out my hand and grabbed that wildly dancing performance outfit. I held it in my arms, carefully protecting it. The outfit was safely retrieved. Next, it was time to end this. I turned around, my waist against that rust-covered railing. It let out a creak, seeming to tremble under the unbearable weight. I looked at the glittering outfit in my hands, remembering that year when I was twelve, when the fire broke out. I had held little Liam in my arms just like this. Back then I’d said: “Don’t be afraid, your sister will get you out.” Back then I was a hero. And now, I was a burden. But it didn’t matter. Even as a burden, I still had value to burn one last time. The tiles under my feet were very slippery. Following that gust of fierce wind, I shifted all my body weight backward. The sound of the railing breaking was drowned out by the rolling thunder. My body instantly lost its support. The moment the sensation of weightlessness hit, I just held tightly to the outfit in my arms, letting myself fall into the endless curtain of rain. The sound of wind howled in my ears, like a grand symphony. The descent was actually very quick, but in my consciousness, it seemed stretched out for a century. I watched the sixth floor grow farther and farther away from me. Mom, I’m sorry. Your unfilial daughter is going first. That day you said you’d had enough of this life. Don’t be afraid. When the sun rises tomorrow, the nightmare will be over. You’ll never have to worry about money again, never have to sigh looking at this disabled daughter. Liam. The lozenges your sister bought—you threw them away. It’s okay. This performance outfit, your sister retrieved it for you. And that five-million-dollar accident insurance policy, your sister is delivering it to you. You must use it to cure your voice, stand on the biggest stage, and sing the songs your sister wrote for you to the whole world. The intense pain was only momentary. Immediately after came boundless, endless darkness. How wonderful. The world was finally quiet.

The morning after the rain stopped, police cars and ambulances shattered the quiet of the apartment complex. I floated in mid-air, watching that body covered with a white cloth below. That was me. The investigating officer was a middle-aged man. He frowned as he examined the broken section of railing, then looked at the performance outfit I’d protected with my life in my arms. “Preliminary determination is accidental fall.” The officer closed his notebook, his tone carrying a trace of melancholy. “The railing was old and damaged, plus last night’s rain made it slippery. The deceased… should have lost her footing trying to retrieve this outfit.” “Even falling like this, she protected the outfit so well it didn’t get a speck of mud on it.” The officer handed the performance outfit to Liam, who stood nearby in shock. “Take it. This is what your sister traded her life for.” Liam’s hands trembled as he took the outfit. Hearing the word “accidental,” Mom’s legs went weak and she collapsed directly to the ground. “My daughter… why were you so foolish…” She cried heart-wrenchingly. But I could see clearly—in the depths of her tear-blurred eyes was a trace of imperceptible relief.

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My sister inherited our mom’s rare heart disease, but I was born perfectly healthy without a single defect. After confirming through tests that I was indeed her biological child, Mom locked me in my room for three days. “You freak, you’re nothing like my child. Just go die!” Dad held her lovingly, comforting my sister who was crying hysterically, his eyes full of blame toward me. “You know Vivian and your sister aren’t well. Why are you so inconsiderate?” To distance herself from me, Mom wouldn’t even let me share her or Dad’s last name. She just flipped through a dictionary and randomly gave me a different surname. When I was seven, on Christmas, Dad took Mom and my sister abroad for vacation. They locked the front door from the outside, leaving me alone in the empty house. When hunger reached its peak, I found a desiccant packet and hastily swallowed it. As my stomach churned violently, my heart felt like it was splitting apart. My first reaction was joy. Mom, does this mean I have the same illness as you now?

The desiccant packet had fallen out of my sister’s snack wrapper. I remembered it was a bag of candy, colorful and beautiful, and it smelled sweet. It must have tasted delicious. I had carefully climbed to the edge of the sofa and tugged at my sister’s sleeve, begging her to let me taste just one piece. But Mom stood beside us, looking down at me with a sinister expression. Then without warning, she slapped my face, her tone so cold it frightened me. “Quinn, you don’t deserve it!” Neither she nor Dad had the surname Quinn. It was just a name she’d randomly found in a dictionary and thrown at me. She didn’t stop until my face was swollen and blood dripped from the corner of my mouth. Dad immediately stepped forward, rubbing her hand tenderly. “Honey, why are you getting upset again? You need to take care of yourself. Don’t worry, once Christmas is over, I’ll send her away.” I lay on the floor, already accustomed to this treatment. My sister ate the candy in big bites, accidentally dropping the desiccant packet into the sofa cushions. Now I was chewing the desiccant in big bites too, imagining it was that bag of candy. But the severe pain in my heart and stomach made it impossible to deceive myself any longer. My entire body felt like it was burning, and I couldn’t stop curling up. As consciousness gradually blurred, I used all my remaining strength to crawl back to my room and lay on my bed. It wasn’t really a room, just a storage closet next to the bathroom. And it wasn’t really a bed, just a platform made of wooden boards. I’d secretly been in my sister’s room once. It was big and spacious and fragrant, filled with beautiful dolls. My sister’s bed was big and soft, but I only touched it lightly before Mom made me kneel all night as punishment and forbade me from eating for three days. I cried from hunger and grabbed Dad’s pant leg, asking him why Mom treated me this way. The neighbor lady also had two children—one healthy, one sick—but she always favored the healthy one. I heard she almost sent the sick one to an orphanage. But my family was exactly the opposite. Mom had tried to send me to an orphanage. If the police hadn’t stopped her, I’d probably already be an orphan. I didn’t want Mom to favor me. My sister was sick and did need more attention. I just wished Mom could be a little kinder to me, could share just a bit of the love she gave my sister. Dad frowned as he listened, then pushed me away. “Quinn, I always thought you were just immature. I never imagined you’d want to send your sister to an orphanage! You know your mom and sister aren’t well, and yet… God, you’re such a disappointment!” I knew Dad had misunderstood and desperately tried to explain. But he didn’t give me any chance. He didn’t even look at me. The next second, the door suddenly creaked open. My head was foggy, my attention focused on the bloody taste rising in my throat. I couldn’t tell if this was memory or reality. Until I heard my sister’s cheerful voice. “Mom, Dad, France was so fun, the steak was so good, I want to go again!” I suddenly realized—Mom and Dad had returned from abroad with my sister. I quickly tried to get up to greet them. If I was late, Mom would get angry. But suddenly I realized I was very close to the ceiling. Looking down, I saw my small body on the bed, covered tightly with a blanket. And I was floating in the air, already transformed into a transparent soul.

“Baby, you must be hungry after all this time. Mommy will cook for you right now.” I carefully floated to the kitchen, watching Mom prepare dish after dish of my sister’s favorite foods. I hadn’t eaten in so long. I was drooling with hunger. Dad sat on the sofa watching TV with my sister when he suddenly spoke up. “Hey, where’s Quinn? Why is it so quiet?” Mom’s hands suddenly stopped moving. “Why mention her on such a happy day? She’s probably sleeping late in her room.” Mom, that’s not true. I wasn’t sleeping late. Every day I woke up to clean, scrubbed the toilet until it was spotless. “Didn’t you say you’d get rid of her as soon as possible? I’m telling you, it’s either me or her in this house!” Mom slammed down the kitchen utensil in her hand, her words leaving no room for argument. Then she lowered her head and muttered to herself, “Why is she the normal one? Why!” The tone in her voice made me feel strange. Mom didn’t love me—was it because she favored my sister, or because she was… jealous of me? She’d said these same words before, when I brought home a running award. She stared at my certificate with bloodshot eyes, then grabbed a feather duster and beat my legs viciously. “How dare you run! You know your sister and I have heart conditions and can’t run. Who are you showing off to? Why are you the normal one? Why!” The pain made me cry. I knelt down and begged Mom. “Mom, I won’t run anymore, I’ll never run again!” She acted as if she couldn’t hear my pleas, couldn’t see the flesh torn open on my legs. She kept beating me until I nearly passed out, until my leg bone made a cracking sound. Only then did she stop and call my PE teacher. “Quinn broke her leg. She can never run again.” The PE teacher sighed, “What a shame. The kid had real talent.” A strange smile appeared on Mom’s face as she looked at me with ill intent. “You won an award for a painting too, didn’t you?” I didn’t understand what she meant. I just shrank back, not daring to speak. After my injury healed, Mom took me back to school, called my homeroom teacher, and shouted in front of the entire class. “Quinn’s grades are all from cheating, including that award-winning painting—her sister drew it for her. She’s a shameless thief. Nobody is allowed to play with her anymore!” Then she pulled out my books from my backpack and tore them to shreds, one by one. The friend I used to play with most looked at me with disgust. I gradually lowered my head amid everyone’s condemnation, not even daring to defend myself loudly. The homeroom teacher looked shocked and tried to reason with Mom. But Dad suddenly arrived and pulled Mom into his arms. “Quinn, why are you provoking your mother again? Is this the first day you’ve known she has a heart condition?” At those words, the teacher stopped and didn’t dare approach. Dad pulled Mom’s hand and walked out of the classroom. Before leaving, Mom turned back to look at me with a triumphant expression. I stood there at a loss while my classmates chattered around me. After that, I became a loner, a freak. Any talent I displayed was ruined by Mom. My excellent grades became reasons for her to beat and scold me. Or rather, my very existence was the root cause of Mom’s anger. Thinking of this, I suddenly felt that death was a good thing. At least Mom wouldn’t be angry anymore. At least I wouldn’t be sad about Mom not loving me anymore.

But I was wrong. Watching Mom feed my sister bite by bite, thoughtfully wiping the residue from the corner of her mouth, my heart wrenched violently. Storybooks said that when people die, they lose all sensation. Lies. I could still feel heartache. Halfway through the meal, my sister suddenly pushed open my door, showing off the new necklace around her neck. “Quinn, look! Mom bought me this new necklace. Isn’t it pretty?” I was already used to my sister’s bragging and felt no emotional ripple. My attention was entirely focused on her hands, afraid she’d pull back my blanket and discover I was dead. When my sister realized I wasn’t responding, she pouted unhappily and started crying loudly. Mom immediately appeared, holding my sister in her arms and comforting her softly. Once my sister finally calmed down, Mom expertly grabbed a stick from behind my door—one she kept there specifically for punishing me. “Quinn, don’t think you can lord it over everyone just because you’re healthy! I’ll beat you to death!” But no matter how long she beat me, I showed no reaction. She grew suspicious and pulled back a corner of the blanket. When she saw the vomit from the desiccant I’d swallowed, she was startled. “Well, well, Quinn, you actually vomited in bed! You’re disgusting! Don’t think staying quiet will save you!” Then she called Dad over, her eyes sharp as knives. “Send her away. Right now. I don’t want to see her for another second!” Dad spoke in a gentle, soothing voice. “Okay, whatever you say. I’ve already made arrangements. They’ll come pick her up tomorrow. We just need to endure one more day, okay?” Mom nodded with difficulty, took my sister’s hand, and spoke in a gentle, patient tone. “Baby, ignore your sister. She doesn’t deserve to be Mommy’s daughter. Come on, Mommy will take you out to ride the carousel, okay?” I’d never ridden a carousel. I used to secretly watch my sister ride. I heard it was fun. Too bad I’d never get the chance now. After Mom left with my sister, Dad sat on the edge of my bed, sighing repeatedly. “Quinn, don’t blame your mother. She’s sick, and your sister is sick too. You need to understand her. Actually, she… loves you.” He said those last three words with very little confidence. It was the first time I’d seen Dad cry. I wanted to reach out and wipe his tears, but my hand just passed through his body. He gently took my hand. “Your mom hit you pretty hard just now, didn’t she? Come on, get up, Dad will take you to the hospital.” But Dad, I can’t get up anymore. Seeing my prolonged lack of response, Dad looked puzzled and pushed me, then started to pull back my blanket. I closed my eyes, not daring to imagine Dad’s reaction when he discovered I was dead. But the next second, a phone ringtone rang out abruptly. The voice from the hospital came through. “Sir, your wife had a sudden heart attack and was hospitalized. Your daughter was frightened, and her condition isn’t good either.” Dad couldn’t spare another thought. He abandoned me and rushed out the door. My soul was suddenly pulled by an invisible force, and the next second I was at the hospital. Mom lay in the hospital bed, her face pale. Even at this point, she kept muttering to Dad. “Honey, I don’t have much longer to live. Please send Quinn away immediately, okay? My chest hurts just seeing her!” Mom, your chest won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be angry anymore. I’m already dead. You’ll never have to see me again.

Dad looked at the ceiling with a complicated expression, then called his assistant in front of Mom. “Go to my house right now and take Quinn away immediately. That boarding school I contacted before—I’ll send you the address. The boarding school is in another province. Help Quinn pack extra clothes…” Before Dad could finish, Mom snatched the phone. “Make her stay there for the rest of her life! Don’t let her set foot in this city again!” The assistant quickly agreed and hung up. Only then did Mom calm down and lie back peacefully under Dad’s soothing. Dad sighed and went to ask the doctor about her condition. Passing by my sister’s room, the heartache in his eyes nearly overflowed. Because my sister’s condition looked a hundred times worse than Mom’s. Her face was white as paper, completely lifeless. The doctor called Dad into the office and showed him the diagnosis. “Mr. Carter, your wife’s heart attack was severe this time, but she was treated promptly and should be fine. But your daughter was frightened. She’s very young, and it’s dangerous.” As Dad looked on in despair, the doctor patted his shoulder. “However, we just learned there’s a heart donor that matches your daughter. If you want to proceed with the heart transplant, I’ll arrange it immediately.” Dad nodded repeatedly. “Doctor, yes, please save my daughter.” But Mom appeared behind Dad like a ghost. “Why? Why did I wait all these years for a donor and never get one, but she gets one so young?” Her tone was calm, yet chilling. The doctor patiently explained, “Mrs. Carter, we’re also sorry about this situation, but…” Mom didn’t give the doctor a chance to finish. “No. I won’t allow it!” She was gasping heavily, her eyes bloodshot and obsessive. Then she ran to my sister’s bedside, yanked off the oxygen tube, and shook her small shoulders violently. “I thought you were like me, that you’d always be on my side. But now… you’re just like Quinn. You’re both liars. Neither of you deserves to be my child! You should die. Just die!” I was stunned by this series of events. The mother who just moments ago showered my sister with extreme love, who let her act spoiled, who was willing to sacrifice everything for her. How had she now become this crazed creature? I suddenly realized she didn’t love me or my sister. Or rather, her favoritism toward my sister was built entirely on the foundation of my sister being sick. Mom’s screaming continued. “Why am I the only one in this family who has to suffer? I won’t allow it! I won’t!” As she spoke, she squeezed my sister’s neck with all her strength. My sister’s eyes flew open, unable to believe that the person trying to kill her was her own mother. Mom’s strength was enormous. It took Dad and several medical staff together to pull her away. In the chaos, Dad’s phone rang at the worst possible moment. Dad couldn’t answer and hung up several times. Only after the doctor finally gave Mom a sedative and she calmed down did Dad open his phone. What appeared before his eyes were several photos and a message from his assistant. [Mr. Carter, this is bad. Quinn… she’s dead!]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “369105”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

Married for five years, Rhys Blackwood never mentioned me publicly. Everyone in our elite circle whispered that he’d married a deaf woman, but he’d only offer a faint smile, never confirming or denying. I told myself he loved me, he just wasn’t good at expressing it. Until that night, when I saw an anonymous post: “When you’re doing it, take off her hearing aids and call out your ex-girlfriend’s name. She won’t hear you, she’ll just think you’re telling her you love her.” The account’s profile picture was a stray cat I’d personally photographed. I’d only ever sent it to him. Turns out, I was just his chosen stand-in. Elara POV A silent world is profoundly quiet. Beyond the world I could only access with my hearing aids, all that remained was a vast, expansive white, and boundless emptiness. It was two in the morning, and the light from my phone screen felt harsh in the dark. An anonymous trending post on a social media app had been pushed to the top. The topic: “What’s it like to have a hearing-impaired girlfriend?” The top-voted answer stung my eyes. It was just a single, short line, dripping with casual indifference: “When you’re doing it, take off her hearing aids and call out your ex-girlfriend’s name. She won’t hear you, she’ll just think you’re telling her you love her.” Countless replies followed. Some cursed: “Scumbag. Aren’t you afraid of karma?” Some asked: “What if she finds out?” The original poster replied: “She won’t. Besides, she’s my wife now. She can’t survive without me.” My finger hovered over the screen for a long time, my fingertip white. The profile picture for that account was a stray cat, the same one I’d fed in the rich neighborhood’s backyard two years ago. I’d taken that photo, and I’d only ever sent it to one person. Rhys Blackwood. My heart felt like it was being brutally squeezed by an invisible hand, blood flowing backward, freezing into ice. Two years ago, Rhys had changed all his social media profile pictures to this cat. Back then, I thought he loved everything connected to me. Now I knew, it was because the cat looked exactly like Seraphina, the woman he’d gone abroad to study with. The cat’s eyes were amber too, arrogant, dignified, and aloof. I clicked on his profile. He never posted photos of us on social media, and his bio was blank. But his latest post was just ten minutes old, only one picture. Under dim light, a long, slender, bony hand held another delicate hand. The caption: “Long time no see.” Flashback five years, to the day of our unremarkable wedding. It was pouring rain. Our car was parked outside the church. Rhys held my hand just like that, not looking at me, but at the curtain of rain. He said flatly, “Elara, from now on, this is your home.” I thought it was a promise. Now, it seemed it was nothing more than a slow, insidious torture that had lasted five years. The sound of an engine shutting off came from downstairs. Followed by the beeping of the keypad lock unlocking. Each sound was like a spike driven into my heart. The bedroom door opened, bringing in the chill of a late autumn night, mixed with a faint tobacco smell, and… a subtle, unfamiliar scent of iris. That was Seraphina’s favorite perfume. “Still awake?” Rhys’s voice was low and magnetic. It was a frequency I could barely discern even with my hearing aids, yet it was etched into my bones. He casually draped his suit jacket over the chair, his long fingers loosening his tie, and walked towards the bed. Under the lamplight, his features were chiseled and deep, his eyes carrying an innate aloofness. He was the most powerful billionaire in this district, accustomed to controlling everything. He leaned over, his shadow enveloping me. I instinctively flinched. Rhys’s movements paused slightly, his deep-set eyes narrowed, as if he sensed my unease, but quickly returned to his usual indifference. “What’s wrong?” He reached out, his fingertips tracing my pale cheek, which felt cold. “Had a nightmare?” I looked at him. I looked at the face I’d loved for seven whole years. From admiring him from afar in college, to our accidental encounters, and then to this marriage certificate. I was like a humble scavenger, picking up the small crumbs of affection that slipped through his fingers. “No.” I spoke, my voice a little hoarse from long silence. I couldn’t hear my own voice very well, so I usually spoke very little, always afraid of mispronouncing words and being laughed at. But in front of Rhys, I always tried hard to respond. Rhys didn’t seem to care about my answer. He pulled a velvet box from his pocket and casually tossed it onto the nightstand. “Brought it back from my business trip. See if you like it.” The box sprang open to reveal an intricately crafted diamond necklace. I recognized it. Seraphina had worn the exact same one on the cover of a fashion magazine last month. The design of that necklace was perfect for covering a small mole Seraphina had on her neck. My neck, however, was clean, with nothing there. “Thank you.” I lowered my gaze, hiding the desolation in my eyes. Rhys smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. He leaned in and kissed my forehead, his tone as gentle as if coaxing a disobedient pet. “Good girl. I’m going to take a shower.” The sound of rushing water filled the bathroom. I stared at the blue velvet box, my stomach churning violently, a wave of nausea washing over me.

Elara POV The water stopped in the bathroom. Rhys emerged, wrapped in a bathrobe, his hair still dripping. He had an excellent physique: broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and muscles that were defined but not overly bulky. The typical “looks lean in clothes, toned without.” His phone vibrated on the nightstand. The screen lit up, displaying an unsaved number. I was close enough that one glance was all it took for me to see the digits. I knew that number by heart. I’d heard it countless times in Rhys’s drunken ramblings. Rhys stopped drying his hair, his gaze sweeping across the screen. His previously languid expression instantly sharpened. He picked up the phone and looked at me. His eyes held a warning, or perhaps a sense of indifferent entitlement. He didn’t avoid me; he simply swiped to answer. “Rhys.” The voice from the receiver was distorted but still revealed a woman’s sobs and grievances. “I’m back.” “I heard you got married? That mute… does she really look that much like me?” My hand, tucked under the covers, clenched tightly. My nails dug into my palm, a piercing pain. So, in their eyes, I was not only deaf but also mute. Rhys didn’t speak, just listened quietly. The woman on the other end said something else. His brow furrowed slightly, but his tone softened, filled with a patience I’d never heard before. “Stop it. Go to bed early.” After he hung up, the room fell into a deathly silence. I looked up at him. Rhys casually tossed his phone back onto the nightstand, his face composed, as if the call had been an insignificant interlude. “Work stuff,” he explained blandly. He couldn’t even bother to craft a convincing lie. Because he was sure I couldn’t hear what was said on the other end. And he was just as sure I couldn’t leave him. “Go to sleep.” The lights went out. Darkness instantly swallowed everything. Rhys’s presence drew near, carrying the dampness from his shower and that persistent iris scent. An arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his embrace. My body was rigid, like stone. I wanted to push him away, to demand answers, to scream hysterically. But what right did I have? The prenuptial agreement stated it clearly: a mutually beneficial arrangement. He gave me the status of Mrs. Blackwood, a life of unparalleled luxury, and a hefty donation to the orphanage. And all I had to do was be a quiet, obedient, and trouble-free wife. “Relax.” Rhys’s voice brushed my ear, his hot breath on my neck. The next second, a warm, large hand gently touched my ear. Skillfully, without question, he removed my hearing aid. The world instantly went silent. All sounds were stripped away, leaving only the thunderous pounding of my own heart. My pupils contracted violently. It was true. What the post said, it was true. Before this, I thought it was just his peculiar habit. He liked to see my lost, helpless expression during intimacy, liked to see me clinging tightly to him because I couldn’t hear, like a drowning person grasping at a final piece of driftwood. I thought it was a game, a possessive desire. Turns out, it was just so he could whisper another woman’s name in my ear. Rhys kissed me. His movements were savage, like a release, a primal taking. My eyes were open, and in the faint moonlight streaming through the window, I stared fixedly at his face. He was aroused. His eyes, usually so cold and distant, were now stained with scarlet lust. What was he saying? I’d learned some lip-reading. Though not an expert, at such close range, I saw it clearly. His lips parted and closed, unmistakably forming another woman’s name. Seraphina. A crushing wave of humiliation drowned me. Tears silently streamed from the corners of my eyes, disappearing into my hairline. Rhys didn’t notice my tears. Or rather, even if he did, he wouldn’t care. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a useful, obedient replacement with a somewhat similar face. That night, I felt like I died. In that silent world, I heard the sound of my heart breaking.

Elara POV Morning. Sunlight streamed through a gap in the curtains, casting a harsh glare on the carpet. The spot beside me on the bed was already cold. Rhys was always disciplined, his body clock frighteningly precise. I sat up in bed, my entire body aching as if I’d been run over by a truck. I fumbled for my hearing aids and put them on. The world became noisy again. Downstairs, I could faintly hear the clinking of dishes and the low murmur of house staff. I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My face was pale, with faint dark circles under my eyes, and there were still marks from last night’s frenzy on my neck. My face, indeed, bore a resemblance to Seraphina’s. Especially my eyes. Seraphina was a vibrant rose; I was a cool, pristine lily. Rhys loved roses but, to save trouble, cultivated a lily that didn’t require meticulous care. I splashed cold water on my face, the chill stinging my nerves, clearing my head somewhat. I changed and went downstairs. In the dining room, Rhys was already seated at the head of the table, eating breakfast. He wore a tailored dark suit, his hair neatly combed-once again the aloof CEO. Last night’s wildness and loss of control seemed to have never happened. “Morning.” When he saw me descend, he didn’t even look up, just gave a faint acknowledgment. His tablet displayed stock market trends. Breakfast on the table was lavish. But there was no hot milk, which I loved. Only Seraphina’s preferred items: whole wheat toast and black coffee. Rhys suffered from severe stomach problems, yet he forced himself to eat these non-stomach-friendly foods with Seraphina, and this habit had continued into our marriage. “I’m not eating.” I stood by the table, my voice very soft. Rhys finally looked up, his brow furrowed, seemingly displeased by my unusual behavior. “What’s with the tantrum?” He set his coffee cup down, the ceramic clinking against the table. “Did I hurt you last night?” His tone held a hint of casual teasing, yet it sent shivers down my spine. “Rhys.” It was the first time I’d called him by his full name. Rhys raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, watching me with an amused expression, as if observing a cat that had suddenly bared its claws. “Let’s get a divorce.” The air froze for three seconds. Rhys scoffed, as if he’d heard the most ridiculous joke. “Elara, that’s not funny at all.” He stood up and walked over to me, looking down. The oppressive pressure was overwhelming. “Divorce? Without me, how will you survive?” “Who will pay the exorbitant medical bills for your brother, the vegetable in the private hospital? Who will sort out your messy debts?” With each sentence he spoke, my face grew paler. He was right. He held my lifeline in his hand. For five years, he had been my god, my sky, my only refuge in this cruel world. That’s why he was so reckless. I took a deep breath, pulled a document from my bag, and placed it on the table. “I’ve already signed the agreement.” “I’ll find a way to pay for Liam’s medical expenses myself. As for those debts, I don’t care about them anymore.” I looked up, my eyes, which were always docile and gentle, now held a desolate resolve. “Rhys, I don’t love you anymore.” Rhys’s face instantly darkened. The pressure in the air became suffocating. He didn’t like hearing that. Even a dog kept for five years, if it suddenly tried to run away, its owner would be displeased. Let alone a woman who, no matter how much he neglected her, would always wait obediently at home. “Are you sure?” His voice was as cold as ice shards. “Once you walk out that door, don’t even think about coming back.” “Elara, you’d better not regret this.” I didn’t speak. I turned, without a hint of reluctance. No luggage, no jewelry he’d given me, not even the expensive hearing aids. I took them off and placed them next to the divorce agreement on the table. They held too many of his fake affections and cruel murmurs. I didn’t want them anymore. The world returned to silence. I pushed open the heavy villa door. The late autumn wind, carrying fallen leaves, blew into my face. It was cold, but I felt an unprecedented sense of freedom. This time, I didn’t look back.

Rhys POV I stared at the signed divorce agreement on the table, and the pair of lonely hearing aids beside it. An inexplicable irritation welled up inside me. It felt like a puppet I’d always controlled suddenly cutting its strings and collapsing to the ground. “Throw these away,” I coldly instructed my assistant. The assistant cautiously asked, “Mr. Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood, she…” “Don’t bother with her,” I tugged at my tie, my eyes dark. “No money, no power, and deaf. She won’t last three days out there.” I knew Elara too well. Weak, dependent, like a helpless vine that needs to cling to a strong tree to survive. This was just a ploy, trying to play hard to get. Was she jealous because of that call last night? Women always resorted to such tricks to get attention. I picked up my car keys and strode out of the villa. But that empty room seemed even colder than usual. On my way to the office, I received a call from Seraphina. “Rhys, I’m waiting for you at the club.” Her voice was soft and sweet, with a hint of a playful whine. My brow smoothed out, and that inexplicable irritation deep inside me was suppressed. This was the life our social class was supposed to have. A vibrant, radiant woman who could stand beside me. Not Elara, who only knew how to be silent, who would only look at me with innocent eyes. The luxury private club in the city center. Seraphina was wearing a seasonal haute couture trench coat, her makeup impeccable, just as she had been years ago. When she saw me enter, she immediately stood up and fluttered into my arms like a butterfly. “Rhys, I missed you so much.” My body stiffened slightly, then I raised my arms and hugged her back. The familiar scent of her perfume, the familiar touch. But for some reason, what flashed through my mind was Elara’s desolate eyes this morning. And that sentence: “I don’t love you anymore.” “What’s wrong?” Seraphina noticed my distraction, looking up, a hint of curiosity in her cat-like eyes. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” “No,” I collected my thoughts, a faint smile playing on my lips. “Why did you suddenly come back?” “I got bored over there,” Seraphina linked her arm through mine and sat down, mentioning casually, “I heard your little mute wife ran away?” My movements froze, and I looked at her. Seraphina stuck out her tongue. “Don’t look at me like that, everyone in the circle is talking about it. They say Mr. Blackwood is charming, and as soon as he reconciled with his first love, his wife stepped aside.” She chuckled, somewhat triumphantly. “But she does have self-awareness. She knew I was coming back, so she made way.” I frowned. For some reason, hearing Seraphina refer to Elara with such disdain made me deeply uncomfortable. “She’s not mute,” I corrected coldly. Seraphina was startled, then whined, “I just said it casually. She’s just a stand-in, are you feeling bad for her?” Stand-in. Those two words felt like thorns pricking my heart. I used to think that too. Elara was just Seraphina’s shadow. But now, the shadow was gone, and something felt profoundly wrong. The waiter brought coffee. I picked up the cup and took a sip, my brows tightly knit. It’s bitter. At home, Elara always remembered to add half a sugar cube to my coffee-my preferred sweetness. Not too much, not too little, just right. “Why is this coffee so bad?” I impatiently set the cup down. Seraphina looked a little bewildered. “But this is the espresso you used to love the most. It hasn’t changed.” She was right, it hadn’t changed. The person had. My phone suddenly rang. It was my assistant. “Mr. Blackwood, it’s bad,” the assistant’s voice was anxious. “The hospital just called. Elara just took her brother away.” My eyelids twitched. “Took him where?” “We don’t know. She completed the discharge procedures, paid all the fees, and left directly with him. We can’t track her whereabouts.” Paid all the fees? Where did she get the money? The veins on the back of my hand, clutching the phone, bulged. Elara didn’t have money. She had never touched the card I gave her. She only used a small amount of living expenses each month; the rest she saved… No, wait. I suddenly remembered that two years ago, Elara had apparently sold a painting. She was a graduate of a prestigious art academy. Although not famous, her painting skills were excellent. How much did that painting sell for? I hadn’t cared at all at the time. “Find them,” my voice was terribly dark, like the sea before a storm. “Search the entire city! Find her!” I hung up, my face ashen. Seraphina was startled by my appearance, cautiously tugging at my sleeve. “Rhys, what’s wrong? Is that mute… is that woman important to you?” I shook off her hand, stood up, and looked down at the woman I had yearned for five years. Suddenly, I felt utterly indifferent. “I have to go.” With that, I strode away, ignoring Seraphina’s stunned expression. My car sped down the highway. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, pressing the accelerator to the floor. Elara. Good for you. You’d better pray I don’t catch you. Otherwise… I didn’t even know what “otherwise” would entail. All I knew was that the hollow space in my chest was filled with cold wind, a sharp, aching pain.

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The night before our wedding, I caught Lewis tangled up with my best friend on the couch. I lost my mind completely — and slept with all three of his friends. I made sure to leave evidence everywhere. On his desk. In the passenger seat of his sports car. In his office. But when Lewis found out, he just casually stubbed out his cigarette and made a group call. “You slept with all of them? How was it?” Laughter crackled through the phone. “Pretty flexible.” “She was alright. Just a little stiff — nowhere near as fun as that actress I’ve been seeing.” “Lewis, did you never bother training her? She moved like a board.” The revenge I’d so carefully planned was nothing but a punchline to him. He didn’t care at all. I completely fell apart. I had a breakdown. And Lewis had me committed to a psychiatric facility. I spent a year there. Then, finally, I got better. Outside the window, a Bentley pulled into the courtyard and went quiet. Lewis had come to take me home. He still remembered to come for me. But I had already forgotten how to love him.

The nurse pushed open the door. “Mr. Lewis has finished the discharge paperwork. You’re free to go.” I nodded numbly. As I walked out of the hospital, I could still hear a few nurses whispering behind me. “Poor thing. Her own fiancé drove her to this.” “What’s so sad about it? He’s gorgeous and loaded — he even pays for everything. It’s not like he hit her. She should’ve just looked the other way. Some people don’t know how good they’ve got it.” A year ago, words like that would have sent me into hysterics. Now, they couldn’t even make me slow my steps. Lewis was leaning against the Bentley, waiting. I walked over to him. He curled his index finger, reaching toward my face. “You’ve lost weight.” I tilted my head slightly and pulled back. His hand hung in the air for a moment, then dropped. He opened the passenger door. “Get in.” There was a used lipstick on the seat. Lewis snatched it out of my hand, rolled down the window, and tossed it out. “My assistant left that. Don’t mind it.” I smiled faintly and said nothing. That lipstick was Mia’s favorite brand — my best friend’s. Not that it mattered anymore. I’d stopped caring a long time ago. At a red light, Lewis tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, then finally spoke. “It’s over between me and her. I threw out that couch — got a new one in the style you like.” “Mm.” A soft sound from me. He continued. “I had the housekeeper clean your things every day. Nothing got dusty.” “Thank you.” I smiled faintly. Lewis glanced over at me, his expression unreadable. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box. “I had the ring remade. Bigger diamond than before. Do you like it?” I didn’t take the box. “Let’s call off the wedding.” Lewis didn’t take my words seriously. He just dropped the box into my lap. “Enough of the drama. I slept with your best friend, you slept with my three friends — and you even came out two ahead. Call it even.” “The spot as my wife is still yours. I promised you that. Stop playing hard to get.” I stared at the little box in my hands and said nothing. I just smiled, quietly and bitterly. I wasn’t playing anything. I was simply leaving for somewhere else. Somewhere quiet — a little village, nothing like this city, where my parents were buried. A place without him, where it wouldn’t hurt. The car pulled through the gates of the estate. Nothing had changed. I didn’t go to our bedroom. I dragged my suitcase toward the guest room. Lewis stepped in front of me. “What do you think you’re doing?” “I got used to sleeping alone in the hospital.” I glanced back at the room that had once been ours. “And I don’t want to sleep in that bed anymore.” The day I’d found out about him and Mia, I’d checked the security footage. It wasn’t just the couch. They’d been in our bed too — the one he’d had custom-made for me. When I saw that, the pain nearly killed me. Lewis stared at me for a few seconds, then let out a cold laugh. “Fine. But don’t take it too far. You always do this, and then you end up back in the hospital.” I watched him walk away. The old ache didn’t come. Maybe the treatment really had worked. I’d forgotten what it felt like to have my heart beat for him, to rise and fall with his moods. Late that night, I lay in the soft guest bed, restless. After a year on the hard hospital mattress, I couldn’t get comfortable. During that year, Lewis never visited once. Fear had swallowed me whole. I used to scream and cry for the doctors and nurses, threatening to hurt myself if they didn’t let me call him. Once. Twice. Three times. He never picked up. Slowly, I went numb. And when I got better, I no longer wanted to call him at all.

Thirsty, I got up and went downstairs for water. That’s when I saw Lewis on the balcony, on the phone. His voice was low, but I could make out every word. “Yeah, good girl. Tomorrow at the auction — bid on whatever you want, don’t worry about the price. I know, I know. Things are just a little busy right now, I can’t be with you every minute.” That gentle, indulgent tone. It used to belong only to me. I stood behind him, glass in hand, and listened for a moment. Then I decided it wasn’t worth my time. I turned to leave. “Betty?” His voice came from behind me. “When did you come down?” He’d already hung up. “Just now…” He started to explain, but I cut him off. “I was thirsty. Just came for water. Don’t stop on my account.” He moved toward me, reaching out. But I was already halfway up the stairs. At the landing, I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He was watching me the whole way up. The next morning at breakfast, Lewis poured me a glass of milk. It was a habit of his. I always used to drink it. He would watch me with a soft smile. This time, I didn’t touch it. I poured myself a glass of warm water instead. His smile froze on his face, but he didn’t say anything. Lewis stood, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. “I need to step out for a bit.” “Okay,” I said. He paused at the door, looking back at me. “No questions?” I thought about it for a moment. Once, I would have drilled him — where are you going, how long, who with. Somewhere along the way I’d turned into someone desperate, someone terrified of being left behind. But not anymore. “No,” I said simply. Lewis stood there for a few seconds, then left without another word. After he was gone, I went upstairs to finish packing. There wasn’t much to take. I didn’t want the hospital clothes — they only brought back pain. I put my parents’ photo into the suitcase. And a journal. The one I’d kept at the facility. I flipped through it. Every page had just one line. Called him again today. The 180th time. He didn’t answer. Treatment was painful today. I miss Mom and Dad so much. No one loves me anymore. Now even he treats me this way. It’s my birthday today. No one remembered. I think it’s been three days since I thought about him. The doctor said I’m almost healed. I closed the journal and dropped it in the trash. Lewis was back soon, and he brought his three friends with him. They went into the study to talk business. The study door hadn’t been pulled shut all the way. From the living room, I could catch pieces of their conversation. “So how are things with you and Betty?” That was Austin — the one who’d said I was flexible. Lewis’s voice was calm. “Fine.” Then Daniel — the one who’d called me stiff. “She looks normal now. Just sitting in the living room reading. Didn’t even react when we came in. I half expected her to flip out.” Austin again: “Honestly though — that girl Mia. Isn’t she getting a little too bold lately? She bid seven hundred million on a necklace at the auction today without blinking. That’s one thing. But then she’s going around telling everyone you bought it for her.”

Lewis’s voice: “If she’s happy, that’s fine.” Daniel: “You’re not worried Betty finds out? You just got her out of the facility. Don’t go sending her right back.” Lewis: “She’ll find out, she’ll make a scene, she’ll calm down. She always does. Gets old.” Flat. Matter-of-fact. Like clockwork. Then Griffin — the one who’d said I was untrained. “Honestly, she seems better than before. At least she’s not screaming and throwing things. Lewis, have you had a chance to… reconnect with her since she’s been back?” “Enough.” Lewis’s voice went cold. Silence fell on the other side of the study door. I sat on the couch, turning the pages of my book. My heart was still. Daniel was the first to come out of the study. He walked over to the couch, looked me over, and let a slow smile spread across his face. “Betty. You’re looking a lot better. If you ever need company again — you know where to find me.” I said nothing. He dropped down beside me. “I mean it. I still think about that night.” Griffin and Austin drifted out after him. Austin’s gaze landed on my waist. He grinned at Daniel. “She’s thinner now. Wonder if the feel is the same.” Griffin snorted. “No wonder Lewis got bored. She just sits there with that blank face. Where’s the fun in that.” Lewis came out last. He looked at me. “There’s a party tonight. Get ready — you’re coming with me. You’re my fiancée. Understood?” “What time does it end?” I asked. He seemed confused by the question, but he answered. “Ten.” My flight was at eleven. So I nodded. Agreed. His three friends exchanged glances and smirked. At the party, Lewis walked me around, introduced me to people. Though introductions were barely necessary. The whole ugly story had made its rounds — everyone remembered the woman who’d gone crazy, slept with her fiancé’s three friends, and been personally committed by the man she loved. They smiled brightly at Lewis. When they looked at me, something else moved through their eyes. Pity, mostly. I smiled politely and felt nothing. “Lewis.” Mia’s sweet voice floated toward us. She glided to his side like it was the most natural thing in the world, slipping her arm through his. “Thank you.” She shifted slightly as she said it, letting her neckline catch the light. The seven-hundred-million-dollar necklace drew every eye in the room. Lewis’s expression didn’t flicker. He even gave her a warm smile. “As long as you like it.” Like I wasn’t standing right there. I felt a wave of nausea. I slipped my arm free from his. “I need to use the restroom.” Lewis leaned close to my ear. “If you want to make a scene, save it for home. Not here. Understand? Come back quickly.” I said yes, walked to the restroom, and threw up. My head was spinning as I stood over the sink. A memory surfaced — nurses prying my mouth open in the facility, forcing medication down my throat to make me stop screaming. At least now I wasn’t going to lose it again. No more being held down, no more forced medication. I left the restroom and passed by a terrace. Daniel and Griffin were there, leaning on the railing, smoking. They saw me, and started talking. Daniel blew a smoke ring. “Look at her. You think she’s holding herself together? Probably eating herself up with jealousy right now.” Griffin laughed under his breath. “And Mia had to wear that necklace. Just asking for trouble. She’s going to push the woman over the edge again and then act surprised.”

I walked straight past them. I went back to Lewis’s side. He looked down at me, something like satisfaction in his eyes. He smelled like Mia’s perfume. I didn’t want to think about what had happened while I was gone. It didn’t matter anymore. I checked my phone. Thirty minutes until ten. Lewis bent close and murmured into my ear. “Let’s do the wedding next month. I’ve been looking at venues. I’ll have my assistant send you the options tonight — you can pick.” I looked up at him. “I already told you. The wedding is off.” A warning crept into his voice. “There’s a limit to how far you can push this. I told you — the spot as my wife is always yours. What more do you want — do you need me to get down on my knees?” He was impatient. He kept reading my detachment as a tantrum. “I don’t want anything from you,” I said. “I’m just not marrying you.” “Fine.” His voice turned sharp. “Do you need me to send you back to the facility before you’ll start making sense? Don’t be ungrateful.” I took a slow breath. “You still think I’m throwing a fit. Don’t you.” “Aren’t you?” He laughed curtly. “How many times have we done this over Mia? Just tell me how many.” I was about to say that I genuinely didn’t care anymore. But before I could, Mia came swaying back across the room. She was moving like someone who’d had too much to drink. She let herself fall against Lewis, arms winding around his neck. “I’m so dizzy.” She melted against him, voice soft. “Lewis, I think I drank too much.” As she said it, she flicked her eyes over at me. She wasn’t drunk at all. She was daring me to react. The three friends were watching from nearby, clearly waiting for the show. Lewis put an arm around Mia’s waist. His brow furrowed, but he didn’t push her away. He glanced at me. The old me would have already snapped. Would have shoved her, screamed, made a scene. Instead I said, calmly, “If Mia’s had too much to drink, you should take her home.” Something shifted in Lewis’s expression. He opened his mouth, but Mia cut in first. “Lewis, take me home. I just want you to take me, like you used to. Please?” Lewis hesitated, then turned to me. “Go home and wait for me. I’ll take her back and come straight to you. Don’t cause a scene. Just go home.” I smiled and nodded. “Okay.” Lewis scooped Mia up in his arms and carried her out, right in front of everyone. Daniel started clapping as he walked over to me. He looked me up and down. “Betty, seriously — what kind of facility did you go to? It’s a miracle.” “So which is it — genuine peace, or holding it together?” Griffin came closer too. “Say what you want, this version of you is a lot easier to be around than the old one. Lewis might actually be into it — playing it cool, making him come to you. Smart move.” I didn’t bother responding. I turned and walked out. Behind me, Austin called out, “Really going home to wait like a good girl? Not even going to wait for Lewis to come back and comfort you?” I didn’t stop. I didn’t look back. I got in a cab, went home to get my suitcase, and went to the airport. I boarded the plane and put my phone on airplane mode. I slept. It felt like a long sleep. When I woke up, the plane had landed. I turned off airplane mode. In almost the same instant, my phone started shaking violently.

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I accidentally injured my older brother’s face, leaving a scar. From then on, he hated me. Even his secret social media account was full of him badmouthing me: 【My face and my life were both ruined by my sister. Well, she has to take responsibility for me. The kind that lasts a lifetime.】 【Speechless. Every time my sister makes a mistake, she just acts cute. If acting cute worked, what would we need the police for? Even if she stares at me adorably, it’s useless.】 【The food my sister makes is so awful, it’s hard to swallow. When I said a few words, she got unhappy and started throwing chopsticks and bowls around. Being a brother is so hard.】 It wasn’t until I discovered the adoption papers. That I finally learned. My brother and I are not blood-related. I pinched the hem of my shirt and whispered: “Getting rid of a pesky sister like me has been your wish all along, right? “Congratulations.” But he slowly curved his lips into a smile. Staring straight at me, he murmured faintly like a malevolent spirit: “Yes… “The feeling of a dream coming true is indeed pretty good.” 1 Hearing the sound of the door opening. I hurried to the entryway, putting on a sweet smile for the person arriving: “Welcome home, brother! “I’ve been waiting for you for so long~” The tall young man glanced down at me. He just gave a faint “hmm.” Then he walked straight past me, into the house. The hand I extended to help Arthur carry his bag. Just hung awkwardly in the air. I didn’t lose heart. I grabbed the coffee I had prepared from the fridge. Holding it out to Arthur like I was presenting a treasure: “Brother, are you thirsty from coming home from the station? “Ta-da— “Look what I got for you! “I know you love the iced Americano from this coffee shop the most!” I blinked at him. Arthur didn’t even look up. He took it and set it aside. Saying indifferently: “Oh, thanks.” But we’re siblings. Why do we need to say thank you for something like this? It’s so distant… I lowered my head. Sure enough. Brother still hates me. He doesn’t even want to drink the coffee I got him. While we were eating at the dining table. Mom smiled and put food in Arthur’s bowl: “Our family’s grad student is finally home. Eat up.” She then asked gossipy: “Why are you home so late for the holidays this time? “Are you hiding something from us, secretly dating someone at school?” Arthur answered coldly: “It’s just that my advisor gave me a task at the last minute.” He paused, then said expressionlessly: “I have a scar on my face, it’s ugly. “No girl would like me. “Don’t say things like that anymore.” The atmosphere at the dinner table suddenly became awkward and silent. My heart suddenly ached. I put down my chopsticks and avoided the situation: “I’m full, I’m going back to my room.” 2 I lay in bed. Staring blankly at the ceiling. Silently refuting what Arthur had just said in my heart— I like Brother, I’ve never thought Brother is ugly. My brother is the best-looking man I’ve ever seen. But unfortunately, there’s a scar right under his eye. Ruining his originally perfect face. And the culprit was me. 3 When I was little, Mom and Dad were busy building their careers. The person who spent the most time with me was Arthur. He tolerated all my capriciousness. And I developed a spoiled and arrogant personality. I always had trouble waking up early for school. He would hold me in his arms, help me wash up, and feed me breakfast. As long as I acted clingy and cute with him, He would get that flustered, blushing look of being struck by cuteness, and sigh softly: “How is my sister so cute…” Then he would give me all the gifts I wanted. Princess dresses, Skittles, building block castles. My favorite person was Brother. And Brother loved me the most. But ever since Arthur started boarding at school in high school. Everything changed. I rarely got to see him. And I knew very little about his life. On a rainy Sunday. Like usual, I went to Arthur’s room to find him. Faint sounds of water came from the bathroom. I consciously curled up in a corner of his bed. Hugging my teddy bear, I fell asleep in my familiar, exclusive territory. In my hazy consciousness. A warm presence pressed against my back. It touched me and immediately pulled away. Arthur, looking disheveled, hurriedly put on his clothes. “…Chloe, why are you in my bed?” Rubbing my eyes, I asked, confused: “Huh? “Brother, hasn’t it always been like this? “When it rains and thunders, I always sleep with you.” Arthur hesitated to speak. He looked away, and after a long while, sighed: “You’ve grown up. “Chloe, we can’t do this anymore, you know? “You have to learn to be independent.” I didn’t understand his sudden change. I instinctively opened my arms, acting cute: “But Brother said you would always be with me. “I want a hug.” The look I was so familiar with appeared on Arthur’s face. The obvious “struck by cuteness” expression. But this time. He looked away with utmost seriousness and firmness. “No.” “What about a kiss?” “Absolutely not.” I had already compromised. He wouldn’t even kiss my forehead. This was the first time Arthur had rejected me. To me, it was like the sky was falling. Only one thought remained in my mind— It’s over, Brother doesn’t want me anymore. I had long been spoiled rotten by him. So, tears of anger and disappointment welled up. I forcefully threw my teddy bear at his face. “I hate you, I never want to talk to you again!” I thought we would make up. Later, on Arthur’s 18th birthday. When I was decorating his room with ribbons and balloons for him. I saw a love letter tucked at the very bottom of his drawer. The girl’s name was also “Chloe.” Stunned for a long time, I quietly put it back. I waited for Arthur all night. But in the end, all I got were a few casual words from him: “Chloe, you didn’t have to do this. “I need to have my own privacy and freedom. “I already celebrated my birthday with my friends, you should get some rest too.” I thought of that love letter again, and suddenly realized— Brother’s world didn’t just have me in it anymore. The love he gave me would be shared. My “young miss” temper flared up. Tears uncontrollably poured out. The gift I was going to give him. In the end, I threw it at his face. I didn’t expect the glass to shatter. A shard left a cut right under Arthur’s eye. Leaving a scar. From then on, I became his most hated person. 4 There was a knock on my door. I snapped out of my daze and quickly ran to open it. Arthur was holding a slip nightgown and a teddy bear. The burgundy nightgown hung from his knobby hand. Swaying gently, it looked especially small. My face felt hot. Arthur tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose: “You went to sleep in my room again, and didn’t even take your things with you. “How many times is this, Chloe Song?” I remembered his previous warnings and tried to bluff my way through. I tugged at his sleeve and softened my voice: “I’m sorry, Brother. “When you’re not home, I miss you so much… “Your bed smells like you, it helps me sleep better.” Seeing him unmoved. I pressed my palms together and stared at him eagerly: “Please, please, forgive me this one time, okay?” Arthur’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. His eyelashes fluttered, and he said in a low voice: “Don’t let it happen again.” Ah! This is the first time today Arthur has given me a good look! I’m so happy. Taking advantage of Arthur not paying attention. I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled into his chest. “You’re the best, Brother! “Can you wash my nightgown for me too? Thank you!” Arthur froze for a moment. Before he could react. I shrank back into my room like a cat that had successfully stolen a fish. Yes, the plan worked! Just a little trick. And I got the goodnight hug that had been cut off for a long time (ˉ︶ˉ). I secretly made a resolution in my heart. This holiday, I must try my best to please Brother. Make up for the mistakes I made before. And restore our relationship to how it used to be. 5 Dinner yesterday wasn’t very pleasant. So, I wanted to cook a meal for Arthur myself. But I had never cooked before. I clumsily followed a tutorial. Stupid kitchen knife, completely disobedient! How did I cut my finger T^T! Oil even splattered out of the pan, so hot… After failing three times. I finally managed to produce a passable plate of green pepper stir-fried pork. Arthur happened to come out of his room. He looked at the messy kitchen. Then looked at disheveled me. He asked in surprise: “…You made this?” I nodded repeatedly: “Yeah, yeah, Brother, I made it specially for you.” I handed him chopsticks with anticipation: “Hurry, taste it and see how my cooking skills are.” After Arthur took a bite. His expression was complex. He seemed to swallow it down using an immense amount of willpower. He drank several mouthfuls of water and sighed: “I like my meat a bit more tender, you cooked this too dry. “It’s not very good. “Don’t cook anymore, I’ll do it.” What the heck, just denying my efforts like that… He didn’t even want to give me a fake compliment! My enthusiasm was completely extinguished. Replaced by anger, massive anger! My spoiled, bad temper flared up again. I snatched the chopsticks back from Arthur’s hand. And slammed them heavily onto the bowl. “I forbid you from eating it! You’re so mean!” I turned around to untie my apron. But suddenly saw in the reflection of the glass. Arthur was staring blankly at my back, revealing a very faint smile. He even secretly took out his phone and took a picture of the green pepper stir-fried pork. Eh? I pretended I hadn’t noticed anything. And walked casually past him. I saw Arthur’s lit-up screen. And froze instantly. It was a page on a social media platform. His account name was: “Having a Sister is Really Annoying”. 6 I curled up in my room. Trying hard to suppress my frustrating and terrible mood. I searched for the account on my phone and started browsing. Arthur had pinned a post: 【My face and my life were both ruined by my sister. Well, she has to take responsibility for me. The kind that lasts a lifetime.】 Someone commented below: 【You hate your sister that much and you still want to spend a lifetime with her? Isn’t that torture?】 Arthur replied: 【What else? I even think a lifetime is too short.】 Netizen’s sharp review: 【A love-hate relationship.】 My head dropped even lower. It will take so long for him to forgive me… It seems Brother really hates me now. He also posted an update last night: 【Speechless. Every time my sister makes a mistake, she just acts cute. If acting cute worked, what would we need the police for? Even if she stares at me adorably, it’s useless.】 I checked the time. And couldn’t help but feel very defeated. So when I hugged him last night. It made him that unhappy? There was also a recently updated post. Accompanied by a heavily filtered photo of the green pepper stir-fried pork: 【The food my sister makes is so awful, it’s hard to swallow. When I said a few words, she got unhappy and started throwing chopsticks and bowls around. Being a brother is so hard.】 A netizen commented: 【Looks awful.】 Arthur replied: 【Did I ask you to eat it? You even have the nerve to review it.】 The dish I worked so hard to make looked terrible. Even netizens thought it looked bad from the photo. So Arthur’s review was actually quite objective, right? The content on this burner account was all about me. Filled with my “crimes.” It seemed like everything I did was wrong. I let out a heavy sigh. My plan to please Brother had just started. And I already wanted to give up. It’s just too hard… Forget it, I need a break. I need to relax and improve my mood! I sent a message to the person saved as “Meal Ticket.” Bossing him around: 【I want to go out and play, come pick me up, hurry up.】 7 Many people were pursuing me. Actually, I had no interest in dating. Because I felt no man in the world could be better than my brother. But Julian was the most special one among them. He looked a lot like Arthur. And he was completely obedient to me. Indulging my spoiled personality. I treated him as a meal ticket. It was like spending time with the old Arthur. We played until it got dark. Julian walked me home. As we walked down the street, he looked at my red, frozen nose and sighed helplessly: “You wore too little, you’re going to catch a cold.” I talked back impatiently: “Why do you care? “Looking pretty is enough.” Julian stopped walking and smiled gently at me: “You don’t need clothes to make you look good. “You’re already very pretty.” He took off his scarf. And wrapped it around my neck, circle by circle. “This will be a little warmer, right?” I let out a soft hum, noncommittal. I pulled the scarf up, covering half my face, only leaving my eyes exposed. Under the moonlight, Julian watched me with a smile. The corners of his lips curved up slightly: “Baby, you’re so cute.” In my mind. However, I suddenly recalled Arthur’s exclamation from a long time ago: “How is my sister so cute…” A cold snort suddenly came from above my head. I thought I was hearing things. But I saw Arthur resting his chin on his hand, half-leaning against the balcony railing. He was staring darkly at Julian and me. Clearly, he had also noticed Julian’s face, which looked extremely similar to his own. Except one had a scar under his eye. And the other didn’t. Arthur had a half-smile on his face. He asked coldly and sarcastically: “Sister, is this the new brother you found?” 8 I guiltily shrank my neck. But didn’t know how to answer. Julian was surprised for a moment, but quickly figured it out. He whispered to me: “You never mentioned it before, so you have a brother.” Arthur’s face grew even darker. Julian very politely raised his hand to greet Arthur. But Arthur kept a straight face. And turned around without a word, slamming the balcony door shut. I thought that was the end of it. I didn’t expect. Arthur came downstairs and stood in front of Julian and me. He was clearly asking me, but his dark gaze was fixed on Julian. “Are you dating?” Julian shyly pursed his lips: “I like her, I’m still pursuing her.” Arthur stayed silent for a moment. His tone suddenly became gentle: “Oh—so you also think my sister is very pretty and cute, right?” “Of course.” Arthur spoke even more gently. But with a chilling, ghostly aura: “Then have you truly understood her? “You only realize it after spending time with her, that people are different from their surface appearances. “Beneath her cute face is an arrogant, domineering, and spoiled personality. “She doesn’t need a boyfriend, she just wants a loyal dog.” Arthur firmly concluded: “I am her brother. “Besides me, no one can tolerate her bad temper, do you understand?” Julian was so shocked by these words that he couldn’t recover for a moment. His thin lips parted slightly, but he hesitated to speak. Arthur grabbed my wrist and said flatly: “Let’s go, we’re going home.”

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When the female lead appeared, I was already pregnant with Arthur’s child. Unable to fight against fate, he had once disregarded everything to break his engagement with the female lead for me, yet because of her, he came to hate me to the bone, finding even a single glance at me repulsive. Finally, I was exhausted. I threw away our tangled feelings, and even gave up the child. Until a twilight six years later. A tender-faced child knocked on my door. Looking like a stern little adult, he said: “My dad doesn’t want me anymore. Can I stay with you?” 1 I froze for a moment, speechless. Arthur Jr. pursed his lips in displeasure. Looking up with his beautiful little face, he stated matter-of-factly: “My teacher said parents have a duty and responsibility to raise their children…” The half-open door interrupted his unfinished sentence. I stepped aside slightly and said calmly: “Come in.” The dim light inside illuminated his slightly widened eyes. His eyes flashed inexplicably. He tilted his chin up, gave a “Hmph,” and obediently walked in. Closing the door and turning around, I saw Arthur Jr. curiously looking around. Seeing me look at him, he immediately withdrew his gaze, nervously gripped his backpack straps, and said with a tense little face: “My name is Arthur Jr.” It sounded like a self-introduction, yet also like a reminder that he was the child Arthur and I brought into the world. I know. From the first glance, I was sure of his identity. Because he looked almost exactly like Arthur. Seeming disappointed by my calm reaction, he turned his head away unhappily and stopped looking at me. I placed his tender yellow backpack in the entryway and led him to wash his hands. “Let’s eat first.” Arthur Jr. obediently replied with an “Oh.” By the time I brought out the food, he had already climbed onto the chair. I asked him why he suddenly came looking for me. Arthur Jr. buried his head, poking at the small green vegetables in his bowl. His drooping little head was black and round, and his voice was muffled: “I got into a fight with him. He smashed things and told me to get out, saying I could never come back.” So he ran away from home in a fit of pique. Then Arthur should be coming to pick him up soon. Makes sense. After all, six years ago, the Vance family fought tooth and nail for Arthur Jr.’s custody, and things got very ugly. It’s even more impossible for them to not want him now. My chopsticks paused; I couldn’t tell what I was feeling at this moment. I didn’t know Arthur Jr. was coming tonight, so I only had a simple meal of two dishes and a soup. He was a very picky eater. He didn’t eat onions or carrots, leaving him with almost nothing to eat. Arthur Jr. stared at the mashed cabbage leaves with deep resentment, sneaked a glance at me, and guiltily swallowed them. When we first met, he carried a bit of arrogant and spoiled entitlement. Now, seeing him being picky about vegetables, I imagined he was completely pampered and given everything he wanted at the Vance family. He shouldn’t have suffered any grievances. I felt a bit relieved. After washing the dishes, I waited for Arthur to send someone to pick him up. I waited until 9:30 PM. Six-year-olds get sleepy early. He dug out his pajamas from his backpack, looked around, and pouted: “There’s only one room.” “Am I squeezing into one bed with you tonight?” I glanced at the clock on the wall. For some reason, the Vance family still hadn’t sent anyone. I had to compromise. “Yeah, you’re sleeping with me tonight.” I originally thought Arthur Jr. would throw a tantrum. After all, a shabby one-bedroom apartment naturally wasn’t as comfortable as the Vance family’s luxurious mansion. But Arthur Jr. just pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling. After washing his face and huffing and puffing into his pajamas, he kicked his legs and climbed into bed himself. Just like during dinner—even though he looked disgusted, he still silently finished all the vegetables I put in his bowl. He wriggled under the covers, creating a little mound. He pulled out a fairy tale book from who knows where, peeked his eyes out to secretly look at me, and couldn’t help but urge: “Aren’t you going to coax me to sleep?” He looked quite happy. 2 After coaxing Arthur Jr. to sleep, I dug up Arthur’s number. After hesitating for a long time, I still didn’t dial it. Arthur and I had been separated for six years. At first, we thought we could fight fate. Back then, my family suddenly went bankrupt, and the Vance family backed out of our marriage, secretly arranging an engagement between Arthur and Mia. For me, he broke the engagement with Mia despite everything. He even gave up his status as the heir. He took a beating from Old Mr. Vance as a family punishment and couldn’t get out of bed for half a month. Seeing my tears, he endured the pain, a lazy smile on his face as he coaxed me in a low voice. I thought things would get better. The bankruptcy would get better, Arthur would get better, the future would get better. But they didn’t. Arthur and I got married secretly. Perhaps because of Arthur’s unwavering commitment to me from start to finish, I never once thought about getting rid of the baby after I got pregnant. Until the eve of the birth. Enduring the pain, I called for a long time, but Arthur never answered. A neighbor rushed me to the hospital. When I woke up, I saw a cold and indifferent Arthur. I don’t know why a person could change so drastically overnight. He looked at me with nothing but unfamiliarity and disgust. Mia came to see me once. From her, I learned the truth about this world. Due to a system timing error, when the late-arriving female lead appeared, the male lead had already developed feelings for someone else. As the price of correction, the male lead’s misplaced feelings began to invert. As much as he loved me before, he hated me now. Mia looked at me with a mix of pity and sadness. Before leaving, she asked in a low voice, “Have you thought about what will happen to your child in the future?” I suddenly froze, feeling lost. I didn’t know who to hate. Should I hate Arthur? But he couldn’t even figure out his own feelings. Should I hate fate? But even if I did, it wouldn’t change anything. Then, my parents got into a car accident on their way to visit me at the hospital. They fell into a coma and might remain in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives. I was on the verge of a breakdown. My mind kept replaying Mia’s words, and I just felt this bastard world was so, so tiring. I pushed open the window. As I looked down, the baby beside the hospital bed suddenly started wailing loudly. In a daze, I thought, if I died, what would happen to him? Would this world tolerate his existence? Would Mia abuse him? Or would he, like me, be despised by Arthur, endure endless grievances alone, and finally die quietly under the watchful eyes of everyone? I started trembling all over. I went back to the bedside, my hands shaking as they reached for his neck. I wanted to take him with me. But then he stopped crying. His red, teary eyes stared at me pitifully, as if no matter where he went, he just wanted to be with his mother. It wasn’t until nurses and bodyguards sensed something wrong and rushed in, pushing me away roughly. I looked down at my trembling hands, suddenly realizing what absurd thing I had done under Mia’s suggestion. The news quickly reached the Vance family. Old Mr. Vance specifically asked to see me and started fighting for custody of the child. I didn’t ask for anything. I abandoned Arthur, who despised me, gave up custody, and cleanly signed the divorce papers. I only asked for two million dollars. Youth doesn’t know the taste of sorrow. The eldest daughter of the Smith family, who used to casually throw around millions, was now driven to a dead end over a few thousand dollars in hospital bills. From beginning to end, Arthur never showed up. He was disgusted by my very existence and didn’t even want to look at me. So, I accepted my fate. I threw away our tangled feelings, and even gave up the child. I let him go, and I let myself go. It wasn’t until a soft little dumpling buried himself headfirst into my arms that I snapped back to reality. Arthur Jr. hummed with his eyes closed, curling up softly in my arms, as if he had finally found a comfortable position, sleeping soundly. He uneasily clutched the hem of my shirt tightly, as if afraid I would disappear the moment he opened his eyes. Looking at that innocent, tender face, I couldn’t help but sigh softly. If he knew his mother wanted to strangle him as soon as he was born, would he still have come looking for me? He’d probably be trying to hide from me. 3 When morning came, Arthur still hadn’t shown up. I didn’t know what he was trying to do. The Vance family fought so hard for custody back then, making a huge scene, but now they just leave him here. I woke Arthur Jr. up early and called a cab to take him to school. The kindergarten he attended wasn’t in the same city as me, but thankfully it was only an hour’s drive. Before getting out of the car, he made me promise over and over to pick him up after school, whining and clinging to me, refusing to let go. Until he saw a car parked in front of the kindergarten. His eyes lit up, and he hurriedly pulled me out of the car. As we got closer, he deliberately slowed down and casually stepped in front of a chubby kid who had just gotten out of a car. Seemingly doing it on purpose for him to see, Arthur Jr. swung my hand in front of him. Then very loudly, in a voice everyone could hear, he asked me: “Mom, you’re going to pick me up after school, right?” This was the first time Arthur Jr. called me “Mom.” Perhaps because of a full six-year absence, he had never proactively called me “Mom” even when he knocked on my door. The chubby kid stared straight at me and said in disbelief: “Since you have a mom, why hasn’t she ever dropped you off before?” Arthur Jr. scoffed, his gaze filled with disdain: “My mom is busy with work. She specially took time off today just to drop me off.” He emphasized the word “specially.” He held my hand, walking toward the kindergarten’s main gate in front of everyone, like he was showing off, making sure everyone saw. Before parting, he coyly asked one more time: “…You will come pick me up, right?” Seeing I didn’t answer, he glared at me, then said very nervously and quietly: “You promised me in the car. Grown-ups can’t lie!” I helplessly squatted down, flattened his flipped-up collar, and ruffled his hair. His hair was dark and soft, feeling nice to the touch. “Okay, I’ll be here.” He couldn’t help but curl his lips into a smile, then tried hard to straighten them. Feigning maturity, he lifted his chin and said reservedly: “Mm, I’ll remember to wait for you.” I didn’t withdraw my gaze until his figure completely disappeared from my sight. I found the teacher and asked about Arthur Jr.’s situation at kindergarten. The teacher hemmed and hawed, finally sighed, frowned, and complained a bit: “I know the Vance family is powerful, and my words might not carry any weight.” “But Arthur Jr.’s mom, no matter how busy you are, you can’t just ignore your child, right?” “Since he enrolled, no one has ever come to a parent-teacher conference!” “Now all the kids in the kindergarten are saying he doesn’t have a mom. If this continues, it’s going to be very bad for his physical and mental development.” No one ever came to a parent-teacher conference? Even if Arthur was busy and disliked this child, couldn’t he even bother having an assistant handle it? I frowned, feeling for the first time that I might have made the wrong decision. …Maybe I shouldn’t have given up custody back then. But I was penniless then, my parents in a coma at the hospital, I couldn’t even feed myself. How could I possibly raise a fragile child? I pulled out Arthur’s number, hesitated for a moment, but still dialed it. I decided to have a serious talk with him. If Arthur really didn’t want to raise him anymore, I would take him with me. Although I couldn’t provide him with the kind of excellent conditions the Vance family could, it was more than enough to raise a child. The call had just gone through when a ringtone sounded behind me. Seeming to realize something, my fingertips trembled as I turned around. I saw Arthur stepping out of a black Bentley. Six years had passed. He seemed to have changed, yet also seemed the same. He looked down at the lit-up screen with half-lidded eyes, his wrist bones sharply defined, his handsome, cold face hidden in the shadows. He unhurriedly raised an eyebrow and suddenly looked up. “You’ve hid from me for so many years.” “Want to talk?” Unlike my disheveled state over the years, Arthur had always remained calm and composed. His features were exactly as I remembered, but the look in his eyes when he looked at me was inexplicably deep. Even the light filtering through the treetops seemed to favor him. I heard he had taken over all the Vance family businesses from Old Mr. Vance. I heard the brand he founded swept the globe. I heard he married secretly early on and had always kept a low profile. Memories of the past decade, which I had deliberately ignored, surged forward like a crushing force, bringing a dense pain to my chest. It wasn’t until the moment I saw him that I suddenly realized. I thought I had let go. Turns out, I hadn’t. Weaving me a grass ring in our youth, kicking the person who bullied me into the pool. No one could have thought we would end up in such an embarrassing state today. Actually, he hasn’t changed. He just doesn’t love me anymore, that’s all. It really has been a long, long time, Arthur. 4 Silent all the way, we found a nearby cafe. Before the coffee arrived, to cover up my feelings, I got straight to the point: “Do you still want the child?” Over the past six years, I had fantasized about reuniting with Arthur in a way that was almost torturous. So much so that I was perfectly capable of feigning indifference now. Arthur glanced at me without hesitation: “Of course I do.” I pursed my lips, staring at the street sign outside the floor-to-ceiling window, gave a low “Mm,” and stood up. “Then remember to pick him up after school. If you don’t have time for parent-teacher conferences, you can let me know. I won’t bother you and—” I still couldn’t bring myself to calmly say Mia’s name. I couldn’t help but dig my nails into my palm. The sharp pain brought me back to reality, forcing myself to say: “…won’t bother your life together.” I checked the time and got ready to leave. As we brushed past each other, I only heard Arthur suddenly ask coldly: “So now you only want to talk to me about Arthur Jr.?” My steps faltered, not quite understanding. Everything between us was settled six years ago. He loved someone else, I took the two million and left cleanly, it was that simple. Besides Arthur Jr., what else was there to talk about? Arthur let out a soft breath, his dark eyes fixed on me, and spoke again: “Alright then, I don’t want Arthur Jr. anymore.” So self-righteous, as if the one suddenly going back on his word wasn’t him. I frowned and couldn’t help asking: “What do you mean?” Arthur tilted his chin slightly, tapping the seat across from him, gesturing for me to sit back down. “Exactly what it sounds like.” “You want to raise the child, fine. He’s yours.” “Considering the child’s physical and mental health, every Friday night I will come to your current residence to spend the necessary time with Arthur Jr., and drive back to the company early Monday morning.” Watching him calmly spewing nonsense, I just felt it was absurd. I couldn’t bear it anymore and reminded him: “We are already divorced.” “Are we?” Arthur let out an ambiguous sneer. “I didn’t sign the papers.” I realized the meaning of that sentence a moment too late. Back then, Old Mr. Vance made me sign the divorce agreement. I thought Arthur was so disgusted by me he didn’t even want to see me one last time, so he didn’t show up from beginning to end. He said he didn’t sign it. But then why wait six years to come find me? I wouldn’t be so narcissistic as to think he still had feelings for me. Maybe the original agreement got lost, or maybe there was a loophole and we needed a supplementary agreement. Anything was possible. I pursed my lips and cooperated smoothly: “Then we’ll sign a new one.” Arthur didn’t even bat an eye: “Not signing.” I reasoned with him patiently: “We sign it and we’re even, isn’t that great?” “No.” “Do you have any concerns? I don’t want the shares or the money. Consider it me leaving with nothing.” “No.” His three “no’s” made me both angry and dazed. Perhaps Arthur himself didn’t even remember, but this was how he was in his youth. At his birthday party that day, someone cornered me, their gaze frivolous and disrespectful, their words vulgar. Arthur kicked him right into the pool. It caused a huge scene. The guests were all prominent figures in Capitol City, and the elders from several families didn’t look pleased. When asked why, Arthur remained silent and offered no explanation. To avoid rumors and protect my reputation, Arthur didn’t even mention me from start to finish. He refused to admit he was wrong, and naturally took a beating from Old Mr. Vance. Probably no one would have imagined that the eighteenth birthday of this future business titan was spent in a confinement room. The door was completely locked, and even medicine couldn’t be delivered. I huddled outside the door, saying very quietly and guiltily: “I’m sorry.” Through the door, he paused, making some rustling sounds. It seemed he sat down by the door too. His voice was a bit muffled, he gave a soft “Oh,” and then said: “Not listening.” I buried my forehead in my knees and said numbly: “Actually, you didn’t have to kick him. Just waiting for him to finish talking would have been fine, he wouldn’t dare do anything to me.” “No.” I didn’t say anything more. Maybe my voice was too muffled, and he misunderstood something. After a moment, he added: “No crying allowed.” He knocked on the door and clicked his tongue lightly: “I did it willingly. It has nothing to do with you. No crying allowed.” I suddenly snapped back to reality, trying my best to hide the sourness in my eyes, but it felt as if I heard his “no crying allowed” from many years ago all over again. Arthur sat in the light, smiling faintly. The fine dust caught in the fragmented light danced around him. The contours of his past had silently sharpened over the years. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at me. As if answering what I had said earlier. “Chloe, we can never be even.” 5 I don’t quite remember how it ended. I only remember I was so angry I didn’t even say goodbye. Because things ended on a sour note with Arthur, I wasn’t sure if he was just saying that or if he really planned to do it. I hesitated for a moment but decided not to take a cab back. Perhaps the round-trip fare would cost almost a day’s salary. Instead of going back to work, I might as well ask for the day off. Or perhaps it was the maternal instinct, absent for six years, acting up. I didn’t want to break my promise to Arthur Jr. Until 4:30 PM, when kindergarten ended. Most of the children in this kindergarten came from prominent families. Amidst the coming and going luxury cars, I saw that Bentley stop in front of Arthur Jr. So I didn’t go forward. I turned around and walked slowly in the direction I came from. I suddenly felt my previous worries were ridiculous. What was I thinking? How could the Vance family really let the child go with me? That Bentley quickly drove away, kicking up a thick cloud of dust as it passed by. I inexplicably thought of that tender little face. We probably wouldn’t see each other again. I just couldn’t help but turn my head to take one look back. After the black car left, revealing the previously blocked road, Arthur Jr. stood alone at the kindergarten gate. He stared at me with his big, round eyes. His eyes lit up, and he was about to charge toward me, but was stopped by the teacher beside him. His little face scrunched up, and he seemed to say something angrily to the teacher. Afraid he’d run across the street recklessly, by the time I snapped back, I had subconsciously walked several steps toward him. The teacher saw me and then let Arthur Jr. come over. He ran, panting heavily, his dark pupils shining. It wasn’t until he got close that he slowed down, feigning nonchalance, acting coy yet happy: “…You, you really came to pick me up?” His soft little hand tentatively held my fingertips. Seeing I didn’t pull away, he pursed his lips, peeked up at me, and held on even tighter. I gave a soft “Mm,” and asked him a bit uncertainly: “Aren’t you leaving with him?” Mentioning Arthur, Arthur Jr.’s cheeks puffed up like a little gas tank ready to explode: “I don’t want to go with him! And he wasn’t here to pick me up!” “He said you work hard dropping me off and picking me up, and said I’d be annoying if I pestered you every day, telling me not to disturb your work.” He looked like a child with a strong mind of his own, seemingly very disdainful of Arthur, and added very seriously and proudly: “I’m not as stupid as him!” “I talked to the teacher about transferring schools today! This way you won’t have to spend so much time dropping me off and picking me up in the future!” He tilted his little face up, his gaze urging me, seemingly waiting for me to praise him. I couldn’t help but pat his round, dark little head. Traffic was heavy on the way back. After buying groceries at the market, the sky grew dark. I held Arthur Jr.’s hand as we walked home. As if suddenly remembering something, he muttered casually: “Oh right, the driver will pick me up after school tomorrow. Dad said I have to go home tomorrow to get my change of clothes.” “But I’m still coming back here to sleep! You can’t forget me!” Tomorrow is Friday. I instinctively tightened my grip on the plastic bag holding the ingredients for braised pork. I paused for a moment and said warmly, “Okay.” Children have short memories. Maybe he’d be coaxed back by his family over the weekend and then forget about me. Every time we met, I treated it as the last time. Because only then, amidst the endless waiting, wouldn’t I feel disappointed. 6 By 10:30 PM on Friday, Arthur Jr. still hadn’t returned. I calmly put away the pajamas Arthur Jr. had tossed on the edge of the bed earlier, and put the extra dishes I made on the table into the fridge. I turned off the lights, sat in the dark for a while, and closed my eyes. When I woke up again, I heard the pitter-patter of rain outside the window. The sky was barely light. I had nightmares all night and woke up with a splitting headache, throbbing in waves. There were a few unread messages on my phone. Before leaving yesterday, Arthur Jr. hugged my leg and pestered me for my phone number. The earliest voice message was from 12 AM. He sounded a bit guilty, acting tough, yet trying to explain. [I didn’t mean to be late!] [I had my clothes ready at six! But Dad got sick again and didn’t seem to have the energy to drop me off.] [He’s so useless!] The second message was sent half an hour later. Cautious, with a hint of a cry. [Mom, are you angry?] [Do you not want me again?] [I didn’t want to stay here either, but, but I had no choice, I didn’t have the driver uncle’s number—] … The last message was from ten minutes ago. He took a picture of fever-reducing medicine instructions, asked me what it said, and asked if a child could take this medicine. I quickly called his number back. The phone was answered in a second, and a sobbing voice came from the other side. “Mom.” My phone was on ‘Do Not Disturb’ automatically at night. I couldn’t imagine how terrified and anxious Arthur Jr. must have been all night. Not wanting to scare the child, I took a deep breath, tried to steady my voice, gripped the phone tightly, and asked gently: “Do you have a fever? Can you tell Mom where you feel uncomfortable?” He sneezed on the other end. He didn’t answer the question, but asked cautiously, his voice thick with congestion: “Mom, can you come pick me up?” I knew it. I couldn’t refuse. 7 Following the location Arthur Jr. provided, I found a villa complex in Capitol City. It seemed they were notified in advance, as the security guards didn’t make things difficult for me and easily let me in. Standing before the door, I couldn’t help but feel that this villa looked a lot like my former home. Just as I was about to press the doorbell, a hand blocked me. I saw Mia’s reflection on the doorbell screen. My pupils shrank. My mind went blank. Mia frowned, seeming unable to understand: “Why are you here?” I almost reflexively slapped her hand away. Under her shocked gaze, I pursed my lips: “I came to pick up Arthur Jr.” Mia froze, seeming to realize something, and said pointedly: “Actually, you really shouldn’t have given up custody back then.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a hint of pity: “You know, Arthur doesn’t like this child.” “He’s stubborn and hard-headed, not likable at all, and refuses to call me ‘Mom’.” “Oh right, you’ve experienced it too, haven’t you? Anyone who goes against the protagonist never has a good ending.” She smiled sweetly. That airy sentence instantly pulled me back to that freezing winter six years ago. But this time, I didn’t back down. “He has a mother; he doesn’t need a second one.” “As for what you said about not having a good ending—” I took a step closer to her, stared into her eyes, and fired back: “Since you know clearly what happened back then, you should also know very well that I have nothing now. I have nothing left to lose.” “All those things you mentioned, you can go ahead and try.” I smiled and said: “Anyway, a rotten life is still a life. When that day really comes, before I go, I’ll be sure to take you with me.” Mia unconsciously took a step back, seemingly not expecting the broken and desperate person from six years ago to fight back now. She bit her lip and didn’t speak. Ignoring her, I went ahead and pressed the doorbell. Not long after, the door was pushed open outward. A face looking sickly and languid appeared behind the door. Arthur didn’t seem to expect me to be here, and instinctively asked: “Why are you—” The next instant, his eyes turned cold, and he said almost indifferently: “Get out.” Because of Mia’s appearance, is everything from six years ago going to happen all over again? I pulled my lips into a self-deprecating smile: “Don’t worry, I’ll leave as soon as I get Arthur Jr.” But as if he couldn’t bear it anymore, he suddenly grabbed my wrist. Then, without a word, he yanked me into the house. He blocked half his body in front of me, and with a cold face, slammed the door shut with a bang. Right before the door closed, I watched as Mia’s freshly forming smile instantly stiffened. I looked up at Arthur blankly. …Ah. Did he grab the wrong person?

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In the middle of the night, my husband received a text message. 【They say you got married. If you’re happy, then there’s no need to reply to this message.】 My husband didn’t move. He waited until I finished reading it before laughing: “Learning how to check up on me now?” He looked completely open and natural, without a hint of guilt. I calmly put the phone back. I didn’t say a single word. Until the early hours of the morning, I watched him carefully weigh his words before replying to that number. 【How have you been these past few years?】 1 Under my clear-eyed gaze, Liam showed a momentary flash of guilt. “Why are you awake? Did I wake you up?” My eyes fell on his phone screen, which had lit up again. Suddenly, I felt a wave of profound boredom. “No, just go to sleep.” Liam clearly let out a sigh of relief. He carefully pulled back the covers and lowered his breathing. I turned my face the other way. But I could clearly see the light from his phone flashing on his side. There was no need to say it out loud. We both knew who that number belonged to—Elena. She had finally… come back. 2 Everyone knew. Elena had chased Liam for three years. The usually aloof Liam was gradually moved by her, and on the day of her birthday, he promised to grant her one wish. What would Elena’s wish be? Everyone implicitly understood. But when the fireworks went off, Elena was nowhere to be found. Until someone pushed open the door to that private room. She was tangled up with one of Liam’s close friends. Seeing Liam, her eyes widened in terror. “What are you doing here?! Who is that?! You shouldn’t be…” She pointed at the man on the sofa. Belatedly covering her body. Fate had played a massive joke on both of them. Elena had given the aphrodisiac to the wrong person. The wind was very strong that day. She put on her clothes, her face covered in tears, “Liam… can we… still be together…” Liam stared at her. His voice hoarse, he looked away, “It’s already past midnight, the wish is… void…” She left the country in tears. To this day. I glanced at the calendar. Three days later, it would be her birthday again. Her birthday. Time to make a wish again. 3 Before the storm hits. Everything is as calm as a normal day. Liam was adjusting his tie again. He looked at me seemingly casually, “I’m going on a business trip in a few days.” My hand brushing my hair paused. I only asked one question, “In how many days?” He didn’t look at me. He just turned his face away, “Three days. I’m going to Seattle. Is there anything you’d like? I’ll bring it back for you.” What else could I possibly want? I put down the comb. Submissively helped him adjust his tie. “When you get back, I’ll tell you what gift I want.” Liam chuckled. “Making me guess riddles again. What if I bring something back and you’re not satisfied?” His question… I ultimately didn’t answer. I thought to myself. No matter what he brought back. I wouldn’t be satisfied. 4 I didn’t need to deliberately ask around to know Elena’s updates. Among our mutual friends, everyone was posting pictures on social media of the souvenirs she brought back. Only Liam and I didn’t receive anything. A friend said, “But she clearly said she prepared a big gift for everyone, especially for Liam—” The friend stopped talking. The entire room fell silent. We all knew what that “big gift” could be. The friend smiled awkwardly, “Maybe it was a private gift, something not meant for the public eye, hehe…” Someone coughed dryly as a reminder. The friend immediately tried to backpedal, “I mean, a physical gift, not offering herself…” The friend covered her mouth. I smiled. And downed the remaining half-glass of alcohol in my cup. “Let’s get together next time. I have things to do.” I hadn’t walked far. When I heard the friend’s frustrated voice. “Ugh, look at my stupid mouth!” 5 Liam and I originally shouldn’t have ended up together. The twist of fate between him and Elena was too dramatic. With an experience like that, no one would be willing to play second fiddle. But unexpectedly. During a blind date, I met Liam. I treated the meal as a catch-up between old friends. When I was about to leave, he pulled me back. “Are you waiting for me to go back and wait for news?” I froze in place. He spread his hands, “This blind date, I’m not just going through the motions. I’m serious. I’m very satisfied with you, Chloe.” I was only one month away from turning thirty. And Liam appeared. Not much romantic history. Emotionally stable, no bad habits. We understood each other’s social circles, and his total assets exceeded mine by an order of magnitude. I had to admit. He was already the ceiling of the blind date market. And just like that. I had a second date with Liam— At my house. He brought expensive gifts, even showing the sincerity of a formal marriage proposal. We skipped all the dating procedures. But we didn’t miss a single step of the marriage process. We just ended up together like that… I’m not saying I didn’t try to change this kind of life. Taking advantage of Liam having a bit too much to drink. I once asked him: “Are you content with the rest of your life just being so unchanging?” Liam looked at me right then. His eyes obscure, carrying a hint of a smile. “Rebellious, unforgettable… those things are fine to experience when you’re young.” Liam fell asleep. Amidst his soft, drunken breathing, I couldn’t help but wonder. Who was his “unforgettable”…? 6 Just like in many novels. When things reach this point. Elena would inevitably come to provoke me, the legal other half. But she was very smart. She added me using a burner account. In every single picture she posted, Liam wasn’t in the frame. But I was too familiar with him. The silhouette reflected in the snow. The hand with intertwined fingers with Elena. He carefully took off his wedding ring, leaving only the indentation on his ring finger. I stared at the snowy landscape and laughed out loud. So it wasn’t Seattle. It was Aspen. 7 When he came back. He wore the smile I was most familiar with, “I didn’t tell you in advance, I wanted to give you a surprise!” I didn’t reach for the beautifully packaged gift box. Liam acutely sensed something was wrong. He frowned slightly, “What’s wrong? Not happy?” I glanced at his gift box. I spoke calmly, “This brand has a boutique right here in the city. There was absolutely no need to trouble you to go to Aspen for it.” Liam’s expression froze on his face. He silently put down the gift bag, “That was my oversight. I took a detour to Aspen from Seattle and forgot to tell you. If you don’t like this gift, what do you like? Or should I ask someone to buy it in Seattle?” He lowered his eyes. Unfastening his tie as he spoke. His wedding ring sat perfectly on his finger. As natural as if he had really just gone on a business trip. If, that is, I hadn’t seen the small, reddish mark on his neck. He came over and gently hugged me. His tone gentle. “Wife, don’t be upset.” 8 Seemingly desperate to prove something. Liam was exceptionally passionate. I avoided his lips and said something incredibly mood-killing, “You have something on your neck.” Liam gave me a very strange look. It wasn’t until he came out of the bathroom that he stiffly explained, “I must have eaten something out of town and had an allergic reaction.” As meticulous as he was. When he consciously made a mistake, his lies were airtight. I didn’t press further. You have to catch a thief with the loot. Ding— My phone and his rang at the same time. It was Elena in the group chat. 【I’m going back abroad next week. Before I leave, let’s have a farewell dinner for me!】 At the end was the location of the hotel she had booked. Liam frowned slightly and looked at me, “We still shouldn’t go…” He didn’t finish his sentence. Our eyes met. “We’re going.” He looked at me quietly. Finally, he conceded, helpless but indulgent: “Alright, as long as it makes my wife happy.” 9 After all these years. I finally met the real her after she and my husband had a physical relationship. At the door of the private room. She wore a high-slit cheongsam, smiling brightly as she hooked her arm through Liam’s. “Chloe, you’re so slow, I came specifically to wait for you.” Our eyes met. We both understood the meaning of “specifically waiting.” Liam suddenly grabbed my arm from behind. Elena turned around. From my angle, it seemed I could see her eyes turn slightly red, “Liam is so protective of his wife, he can’t even stand being apart for a moment.” Liam’s expression was natural. He simply put his arm around my shoulders, “Naturally, my wife is more important than anything else.” The other friends burst into laughter. Only Elena lowered her eyes. When she looked up again, she let go, gave a radiant smile, and twirled in front of me. “Chloe, look, does my outfit today fit the domestic aesthetic?” Before I could speak. She added another sentence herself. “Someone told me I look especially beautiful in a cheongsam.” I looked up and glanced at Liam, “The cheongsam is beautiful. For instance, Liam really likes it when women wear them.” In the private room. All the laughter stopped. Everyone’s eyes gathered on us. Liam didn’t say anything. He took a sip of his wine before taking my hand and holding it up to the table. “Yes, I like it best when my wife wears it.” Others smoothed things over, arranging the food and drinks. Elena drank a little too much, her smile clearly showing bitterness. “Chloe, if I hadn’t made that mistake back then…” The wine. I didn’t drink it. Instead, I laughed softly, “Aged wine is sweet. Good thing you guys made up for the regret of not having sex back then.” The people sitting close by widened their eyes. “Enough!” A stern shout. My words were sharply cut off. The hand Liam used to hold his wine glass was trembling slightly, betraying his emotions. He let out a breath. His gaze turned to Elena. “Did you drink too much, talking nonsense to my wife?!” Her breath hitched. Her eyes instantly turned red, tears falling heavily onto the table. The others hurriedly handed her tissues, urging Liam to save her some face. Across the crowd. I looked at Liam. “You’re clearly yelling at me, but to maintain peace, you scold your lover. Doesn’t it break your heart?” Their movements all stopped… I stood up, breaking into my most sincere smile. “After all, you guys just finished sleeping together in Aspen, and you’re already turning on her so quickly. Liam, you’re so ruthless after getting what you want. How heartbroken Elena must be? “Stop acting, hurry up and go coax her.” In the chaotic private room. Liam sat rigidly in his seat. Elena even forgot to cry, covering her mouth in panic, “Liam, I didn’t tell her…” I smiled. I didn’t miss the flash of triumph in Elena’s eyes. “I also never thought a guy like Liam could keep you obsessed for so many years. “A few days ago for your birthday, I didn’t get you anything. “Today, consider this my belated gift.” In front of everyone, I pulled out the divorce agreement I had prepared long ago. In the quiet environment. I could clearly hear Elena’s breathing become rapid. As I opened the cover. My wrist was suddenly grabbed tightly by someone. Liam’s eyes were dark. “Chloe, it’s not what you think.” 10 Our friends tactfully cleared the room. Only Liam and I remained. His Adam’s apple bobbed violently. After a long while, he finally managed to say, “I… did contact Elena.” I looked at him. And didn’t reply. A few minutes later, his voice was strained: “But I never had any thought of abandoning our family.” I waited a long time. And didn’t get a follow-up. Getting impatient, I simply picked up my bag to leave. He instantly blocked my way. “Chloe! Listen to my explanation! “Back then, if it weren’t for me, Elena’s first time… wouldn’t have been given to someone else…” He spoke rapidly. I sneered: “So you felt a lot of regret, and now you finally had the chance to make up for it?” He frowned, “You’re being too extreme. I only took her to Aspen once… even if you didn’t expose it, once she left, we wouldn’t have contacted each other again.” “So you think what you did was right? The only mistake was that I shouldn’t have exposed it?” Faced with my questioning. Liam remained silent. Just before I pulled the door open to leave, he suddenly said: “Before we got married, it’s not like you didn’t know about what happened between her and me…” The heavy door was pulled open. I stood frozen in place. Everyone hadn’t left. Elena was surrounded by friends, looking pitiful, “These past few years, it’s been so hard living abroad. But if there was any other way, who would want to leave their hometown…” I walked towards her. Elena dropped her act, her expression guarded as she backed away step by step, “Chloe, you…” I raised my hand high. Before it even fell, she curled up and gasped. Behind me, the urgent sound of leather shoes rang out. I smiled, leaned in close to Elena, “Don’t worry, I won’t hit you.” Behind me, Liam approached. The un-fallen slap landed fiercely on his face. Smack! A crisp sound. Everyone gasped. Elena’s eyes immediately turned red, “Liam—” My palm tingled slightly. I shook my arm. My gaze fell on Liam’s shocked eyes. “Hitting her is illegal, hitting you isn’t.” The pent-up frustration in my chest finally dissipated slightly with that slap. I left the place alone. I’d leave the mess for Liam to clean up. 11 I hired people. And smashed all the renovations in our house to pieces. Wood panels fell. Drywall crashed to the floor, piece by piece. The air was thick with dust and smoke. When Liam returned, you couldn’t even see the expression on his face. He was stunned. It wasn’t until I paid the workers their final balance that he ran over and demanded, “Chloe, what are you doing?!” This was the home I once shared. Every plant, every tree. Soft furnishings, hard furnishings, I designed and arranged everything myself without anyone else’s help. My husband cheated. I couldn’t just design a wedding dress for someone else. I bent my eyes apologetically, “Destroying what I designed, so it doesn’t become an eyesore for Elena later. “I remember she likes the princess style. “Mr. Sterling, why not hire me to design it again when the time comes?” My sincere suggestion made Liam’s eyes turn red. He grabbed my shoulders, losing his composure, “When did I ever say I wanted to live with Elena?! You are the mistress of this house! Chloe, how far are you going to take this? You even destroyed our home, and you’re calling me Mr. Sterling. I already said I never thought of abandoning our family, Chloe!!!” He yelled and yelled. Then he paused slightly, staring at me and smiling bitterly again, “I was even thinking about settling things with Elena and coming back to coax you. “Forget it, if the house is smashed, it’s smashed. We can just renovate it again. “Wife, are you no longer angry now?” I pried his hands off my shoulders little by little, correcting him, “Just five minutes before you walked in, I received another message from Elena.” I shoved my screen in his face. This time, Elena’s burner account sent me a live photo of Liam. He was driving her home. In the live photo, he clearly said to her, “When things calm down with Chloe, I’ll go to France to see you.” Liam’s face turned pale. But that wasn’t enough. I laughed from the bottom of my heart. “To prevent her from un-sending it, the moment I saw it, I forwarded it to the family group chat and the friends group chat. “It’s past the time limit now. “No one—can un-send it.” 12 I moved back to the apartment I had before I got married. Liam was overwhelmed. Juggling his family and friends, he temporarily had no time to come bother me. Both family and friends were trying to persuade me. He only slipped up once, and for the sake of that extra digit in assets, I should endure it for a bit. Especially when a friend brought me the latest news about Elena. She canceled her flight. Her departure was indefinitely postponed. After a moment of silence. I told my friend, “Then wish her good luck.”

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I started online dating my stepbrother. Online, he calls me “baby,” buys me the most expensive gaming gear, and throws money around to win a gemstone cufflink I casually mentioned liking. But offline, because I’ve always coveted him, my stepbrother hates me. With one hand in his pocket, he warned me with disgust, “If I ever hear those disgusting words from your mouth again, get the hell out of this house. Understand?” 1 Clutching my package, I nodded silently. Arthur Vance was already used to my dull demeanor. He walked past me, taking large strides toward the door. He’s been very busy with his company lately, always coming home late, sometimes even pulling all-nighters there. I know he doesn’t want to see me. I only came back this weekend to grab some clothes because the housekeeper said he hadn’t been home much recently. I didn’t expect to run right into him. My fingers tightened around the package, and I forgot how I even walked into my room. It wasn’t until the door was shut tight that I leaned against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. I don’t know how much time passed before my phone vibrated a few times. It was the special notification sound I had set for someone. I raised my hand, wiped away the coldness on my face, and opened the chat. My online boyfriend, with his stick-figure avatar, asked: [Baby, did you get the package I sent you?] I drew that stick-figure avatar. It was just a few rough, simple strokes, making it look particularly comical. Staring at the screen, it took me a long while to finally crack a smile. [Got it.] [Good, try it on and see if it fits. I checked the weather forecast for your area, the temperature is dropping soon. Keep warm, don’t get sick.] My online boyfriend added: [I’ve been a bit busy with work lately and haven’t had time to play duos with you. I’ll definitely make it up to you when this busy period is over. Don’t be mad, okay?] Of course I wouldn’t be mad. My online boyfriend has already done enough. We met on a gaming forum. He mistook me for a girl and took care of me in every way. Later, when an accidental voice call revealed I was a guy, his attitude didn’t change at all. Three months ago, which happened to be the one-year anniversary of us adding each other as friends, my online boyfriend confessed his feelings. He said: [I never thought I could like a guy, but if that person is you, I actually don’t mind it at all.] [If you also like guys, would you be with me?] At that time, I had just moved back into the college dorms. The three days before I moved back happened to be my birthday. I was pushed to drink too much by my classmates and lay unconscious on the sofa. I happened to be discovered by Arthur coming home. Drunk out of my mind, I hugged his waist directly and said things I shouldn’t have said. That very night, my suitcase was thrown out the front door of the Vance family home. Arthur held an umbrella, watching me coldly as I got drenched in the rain. “Are you sober now?” “Move to the dorms. From now on, I don’t want to see you in this house.” Because I chose to live on campus mid-semester, I was placed in whatever room had an empty bed. My roommates were from different majors; to me, they were just strangers. I sat on my bed, listening to them laughingly schedule a time to play basketball. When the door closed, I was left alone in the room. It was then that I saw my gaming partner’s confession, and I accepted. Perhaps since the day Arthur rejected me and kicked me out, there was a knot of resentment in my heart. I thought, Arthur doesn’t like me, but there’s bound to be someone in this world who does. 2 My online boyfriend knew nothing about this. I also understood this was unfair to him. When the initial enthusiasm faded after the first few days, all that remained was endless guilt. I admitted my mistake to him, telling him that my agreement that day was an impulsive moment. On the other side of the chat, my gaming partner was quiet for a long time. [It’s okay, I’m very glad you could tell me the truth.] [If, if you don’t find me repulsive, and maybe have a faint bit of fondness for me, could we try?] That one try has lasted until now. He constantly checks the weather forecast for my area and buys me the most expensive gaming gear. Not long ago, he asked for my address and bought me seasonal fruits. Since then, he frequently sends me things. [So you’re in New York. We’re not far apart then.] [Once I’m done with this busy period, let’s meet up, okay?] I agreed. My online boyfriend was so good, I originally thought I had already forgotten Arthur. I opened my closet and stuffed my heavy clothes into my suitcase one by one. This piece was bought by Arthur, that piece was also bought by Arthur. Even on my nightstand, there was a photo of Arthur and me. If it hadn’t been for that loss of control and confession, I could have kept my secret hidden and continued being Arthur’s good little brother. Unfortunately, he found out everything. It was my own insatiable greed. As someone with no blood ties to the Vance family, being raised until I was eighteen was already a blessing. Why did I still want more? Closing the door, I left the Vance family villa. Uncle Wang, the driver, said he would give me a ride. Just then, a cool sports car stopped in front of me. The person inside took off his sunglasses. “Leo Hastings! Good on you, coming back without even telling your brothers?” “If Chloe hadn’t said she saw someone familiar at the station, I wouldn’t have even known you were back. How about it, want to hang out with the guys?” 3 I’m not a member of the Vance family, nor am I Arthur’s biological brother. My mom brought me along when she dated Arthur’s dad for a while back in the day. Unfortunately, right before their wedding, a car accident took them both. Arthur could barely be considered my stepbrother. But the Vance family refused to acknowledge this. When I was about to be sent to an orphanage, it was a thirteen-year-old Arthur who stopped me. “He is my brother.” Arthur stood in front of me. Back then, I only came up to his waist. I had to look up to see his shoulders. From then on, I stayed with the Vance family. After all, my status wasn’t official, and few of those heirs from prominent families actually took me seriously. Mark was one of them. I looked at his flashy sports car and smiled: “Mark, how about I treat you to a meal to apologize?” “One meal isn’t enough! Come on, get in, I’m calling the shots today!” The private room was full of familiar faces, and everyone started chatting animatedly. I gradually relaxed. Mark opened a bottle of wine and sat next to me. “Hey, what did you say?” “What?” “About you moving to the dorms.” Mark curled his lip, “Your brother is such a bro-con. He used to treasure you so much, arranging for a driver to pick you up and drop you off every day, and picking you up himself when he had time.” “Did those old farts in the Vance family say something? You just turned eighteen not long ago, and they want to kick you out? Or, did you and Arthur have a falling out?” The fact that I liked my brother was something only I knew. Later, on my eighteenth birthday, my brother found out too. I shook my head and replied to Mark, “Neither.” He wanted to ask more, but my phone chimed again. It was a message from my online boyfriend. My online boyfriend asked: [Did the clothes fit? Check the pockets, there’s a little surprise inside.] I jerked my head up. Crap, I left the package from my online boyfriend at the house! 4 At the corner of the hallway, I called Auntie Song at the house. I had originally hoped she could bring the package out to me, saving me the trouble of going back and annoying Arthur. But Auntie Song had a family emergency and had just taken a leave of absence. “There’s no one at the Vance house right now, and the young master isn’t there either. Leo, why don’t you go back and get it yourself?” Arthur wasn’t there. My eyelashes fluttered, and I replied: “Okay.” Mark had been drinking and could only walk me to the door. He leaned his head against another friend, his eyes already a bit glazed, and waved at me. “My birthday is next month, remember to come!” I nodded, agreed, and got into the car heading back to the Vance house. Arthur wasn’t there. I couldn’t tell if I felt more relieved or more disappointed. Even though he had spoken so harshly, even though I had decided to let him go, I still wanted to see him. The door to the Vance house was slightly ajar. I hesitated at the entrance for a moment, looking up. All the windows were pitch black; no lights were on. It was dead silent all around, only the faint chirping of insects from the bushes nearby could be heard. Perhaps Auntie Song was in a hurry when she left and forgot to close the door tightly. I felt slightly more at ease, pushed the door, and walked in. The package I forgot this afternoon was in the room on the second floor. I walked forward a few steps in the dark, but my foot accidentally kicked something. The object tumbled onto the carpet, making only a faint sound. I turned on my phone’s flashlight and looked closely. On the soft wool carpet lay a gemstone cufflink quietly. It sparkled brightly under the flashlight’s beam. And the owner of this cufflink was leaning haphazardly on the sofa not far away. His burgundy tie was loose, and a few buttons of his shirt were casually undone. His suit jacket was tossed aside. Seeming to sense the dim light, the man frowned, and his breathing grew slightly heavier. Arthur was home. 5 Still in the posture of bending over to pick up the cufflink, I froze in place for a moment. My gaze swept over Arthur inch by inch. Then I hastily turned off the flashlight. My vision darkened. My other senses became sharper. I smelled the scent of alcohol floating in the air. Arthur had been drinking. Or maybe he was drunk and simply fell asleep on the sofa. I didn’t dare turn on the light again. I fumbled my way upstairs and grabbed the package from my online boyfriend. I really should have left right then. Otherwise, I wouldn’t make the last bus back tonight. But passing by the living room, I held my breath. In the darkness, the sound of another person’s breathing became exceptionally clear. Accompanying it was the sound of my constantly accelerating heartbeat. Arthur liked peace and quiet. After moving out of the Vance family’s main estate, he didn’t keep many people in the house. Just Uncle Wang, Auntie Song, and me, a brother completely unrelated to him. But today Auntie Song took a leave of absence, so there was no one to take care of him. Leaving him lying on the sofa like this all night, he’d definitely have a headache when he woke up. Two little people were fighting in my heart. One little person said: [Why care about him? When he wakes up, he won’t remember your kindness, he’ll only find you more disgusting.] The other little person said: [He’s asleep anyway, he won’t know who did it.] I put down the package and fumbled my way into the small kitchen. The recipe for hangover soup was something I pestered Auntie Song to teach me back then. At that time, I still didn’t understand what liking someone meant, but I had an inexplicable possessiveness towards Arthur. Even the hangover soup he drank, I had to make it myself. I served a bowl of hangover soup and placed it on the coffee table. Finally, I found a blanket and lightly draped it over Arthur. Having done all this, I silently said in my heart: [Brother, I’m leaving.] However, the next second, the living room lights flicked on, and a voice bordering on sarcastic came from behind me. Arthur’s voice still carried the hoarseness of a hangover. “Don’t put on an act in front of me.” “Leo, what did you put in the soup?” 6 Screech. The hangover soup was pushed aside, the ceramic bowl making a harsh scraping sound against the coffee table. Arthur raised his hand to press his temples and scoffed: “Having those kinds of feelings for your own brother, do you really think I’d drink something you made?” My restless heart felt as if it were being ruthlessly squeezed, then released, repeatedly, until it grew cold. Ever since I misspoke that day, everything I did was seen by Arthur as having an ulterior motive. So I turned around and drank the bowl of hangover soup in one gulp. Setting the bowl down, I suppressed my voice, “Is that acceptable now?” Without waiting for Arthur to reply, I took large strides towards the door. As my hand gripped the doorknob, I added one more sentence, “I promise, I won’t do it again.” I promise I won’t pester Arthur anymore, won’t annoy Arthur anymore, and won’t appear in front of Arthur anymore. Blasted by the cold wind outside. I picked up my phone to change my ticket. But my hand was shaking so much I couldn’t tap on the page. By the time I managed to click through, my vision had blurred again. The words on the screen blurred into blocks of color, and I couldn’t read anything clearly. I forgot how I made it back to school. I only remember that by the time I arrived, I had already missed the first class of the morning. Fortunately, the professor for that class didn’t take attendance. I lay in my tiny dorm bed, sleeping soundly. Until my roommates came back with takeout and started talking loudly while gaming with headsets on. I pushed back the bed curtain. “Holy crap, Leo, why didn’t you make a sound when you were in the dorm?” A roommate slurped a mouthful of instant noodles. Upon seeing me, his eyes lit up, “Leo, bro, when I was playing basketball yesterday, I heard people saying that the CEO of South Game, Mr. Vance, is your brother?” “One of you is named Vance, the other Hastings. You didn’t take your dad’s last name and the other took your mom’s, did you?” “Leo bro, I have a friend who really wants to get into South Game, but his resume got rejected several times. Young Mr. Hastings, could you maybe help out? Just as a favor to me, open a backdoor for him?” I’ve always been clumsy with words and don’t know how to refuse people. When I was eight, my mom’s relatives somehow found out where I was and waited at the gate of the Vance family’s main estate. The moment they saw me, they started crying about how hard their lives had been these past years, how they had exhausted their fortunes trying to find my mom and me, and how unexpected it was that fate allowed us to meet again. While clutching my sleeves and wiping their tears, they greedily eyed the massive Vance family estate. I brought them to Arthur. Those relatives bowed and scraped before the young Arthur, exposing their true nature in no time. They said they were willing to stay and take care of me, as long as they were paid a small salary. I hid behind the sofa, quietly watching those people. The uncle with a beer belly, who forcefully seized the house after my grandmother died, kicking my mom and me out onto the streets. The aunt with newly permed hair, who conned my mom out of her last bit of savings, leaving us to hide in a freezing rental without heating, surviving on nearly-expired cookies for two months. It was as if Arthur had eyes in the back of his head. He ignored those relatives’ pleas, reached behind him, and pulled me out from behind the sofa. “Leo, do you want them to stay?” Of course I didn’t want them to stay, but faced with their crocodile tears, I hesitated. “If you want them to, say yes. If you don’t, say no.” Arthur ruffled my slightly curly hair, “No matter what you want to do, I’ve got your back.” I didn’t dare to look at those relatives’ hateful glares and answered honestly, “I don’t want them to stay.” The next second, those relatives were thrown out by the bodyguards. Once the door closed, all the howling and cursing could no longer be heard. I don’t know what else Arthur ordered, but I never saw them again. “Good job.” Arthur pressed a cherry into my hand, “A reward for a good kid.” At that time, I felt all cartoons paled in comparison; my brother was my superhero. Now, I don’t have a superhero anymore. I have to be my own superhero. I climbed down from my dorm bed, grabbed a textbook, getting ready to head to the library, and casually replied, “Can’t do it.” When the dorm door closed, I could vaguely hear an exasperated voice from inside, “Who is he pretending to be?!” 7 Studying really is something that numbs a person. I went to classes straight for a week. When I opened my game on the weekend, I realized how long it had been since I talked to my online boyfriend. Fortunately, he seemed quite busy lately too and hadn’t sent me many messages. [If you’re free this weekend, want to play some games together?] [The new item is pretty good. I bought one for you, it’s in your mailbox, remember to check it.] [By the way, did you see the gift I sent you?] Mentioning the gift reminded me that I had left in a hurry last time and ended up leaving the package behind. Auntie Song was still on vacation and probably wouldn’t be back for another three days to help me mail it. So I told the truth, [Sorry, I left the package at home. I won’t be able to get it for a few days.] My online boyfriend seemed to be waiting in front of his screen; his reply was almost instantaneous. [Okay, no rush.] [I bought you that gemstone cufflink you said looked nice last time. I hope you like it.] Even though I knew my online boyfriend had money, I never imagined he was this rich. If I remembered correctly, that gemstone cufflink sold for over ten million at auction. When my online boyfriend asked me about it back then, I just casually said it looked nice. And he actually gave it to an online friend he’d never even met without batting an eye? I took a sharp breath, deleting and rewriting my message in the chat box, [That’s too expensive. Please give me your address, and I’ll send it back to you once I get it.] [As long as you like it. Don’t worry about anything else. I also don’t want the gift I gave you to become a burden.] My online boyfriend, sporting his stick-figure avatar. [If it really feels like a heavy burden, then why don’t you log on more often and meet up with me more? Just consider it a return gift.] I checked my bank account balance. Needless to say, Arthur had provided for me all these years. The long string of numbers in my account was enough for me to squander for a lifetime. When the time comes, if I have the chance, I’ll give a gift of similar value back to my online boyfriend. Thinking of this, I stopped refusing and accepted it. However, during our matches tonight, my online boyfriend made frequent mistakes. He seemed to be in a bad state, stepping into small traps multiple times. The randomly matched teammates were talking trash, so I just kicked them out and played duos with him. Another match ended. I looked at our disastrous record, feeling a bit of heartache for the rank I had achieved after staying up several nights. [Are you doing okay lately?] [Sorry, my bad.] My online boyfriend and I sent messages at almost the exact same time. He was silent for a moment, [I’m okay, just a little problem at home.] Having known him for over a year, my online boyfriend was exceptionally calm in every situation. It was hard for me to imagine what kind of issue could make him so troubled. Seeing me ask, my online boyfriend didn’t hide it. [It’s nothing, I just realized I have some misunderstandings with the kid at home. It’s my fault for neglecting his feelings usually, and I might have also given him some wrong guidance.] This was the first time I heard him mention it. It seemed this was a family member he cared about very much. [When things calm down, you can find a chance to communicate with him properly.] My last family member didn’t want me anymore. I didn’t have family anymore. So, I hoped my online boyfriend wouldn’t end up like this. 8 We played games until dawn. After exchanging goodnights with my online boyfriend, I put down my phone. At the Vance house. Arthur propped his hand against his brow, pausing for a moment. He picked up the water glass beside him and went downstairs to pour some water. The villa was exceptionally quiet. When he looked up, Arthur subconsciously glanced toward the room on the second floor. It was empty inside, most of the things had been packed away. And the original owner of that room was the one he had driven out himself. An unprovoked sense of irritability welled up. Arthur put down the glass. As he was leaving, he accidentally caught a glimpse of a cardboard box sitting in the corner. Auntie Song wasn’t there, and Arthur didn’t come home often either. He had no idea how long that box had been sitting in the corner. Perhaps it was trash that had been forgotten to be thrown out, or maybe it was a package bought who knows when and forgotten. Arthur didn’t pay it any mind. He had just taken a few steps towards the stairs when he returned as if possessed. The package was opened; inside was a familiar-looking jacket. If he remembered correctly, he had bought two similar matching jackets not long ago. One for himself, and the other for his online boyfriend. So it was a jacket. Arthur casually tossed the jacket onto the sofa. Clack. Arthur looked down. A small burgundy square box fell out of the jacket pocket.

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For my boyfriend’s birthday, I gave him a $2 lottery ticket. It ended up winning $5 million. My boyfriend calmly said, “Thanks, babe.” I snatched the lottery ticket right back and cursed, “Who are you calling babe? Don’t get ahead of yourself.” “Give you a birthday present? Are you crazy, I don’t even know you.” Later, when I ordered male models at a KTV, I ran into my boyfriend. He poured me 10 glasses of wine. Heh. Still just after my money. Finally, he asked impatiently, “You don’t recognize the keys to a Rolls-Royce, and you don’t even recognize a Patek Philippe watch?” “Also, the minimum spend here is $300,000.” “The red wine you just ordered, one bottle is $1.2 million, another is $1.8 million, and there’s one for $2.6 million.” “8 male models, $800,000 appearance fee.” “You’ve spent a total of $6.7 million.” I turned my head, looking at him in shock, and murmured, “Babe…” He sneered, “Excuse me, do I know you?” 1 My boyfriend is a senior student at my university. He was pretty easy to pursue. I pretended I couldn’t understand Advanced Calculus and asked him to tutor me. He agreed. Then we went to an empty classroom. I sat next to him while he explained the problems. As he tutored, I just kind of leaned into his chest. I looked at him with my big, watery eyes and said, “Senior, my chest really hurts.” He remained as still as a mountain, looking down at me. I grabbed his long, slender hand, placed it on my chest, and said, “Right here, what should I do?” “You’re so thirsty.” That’s what he said. 2 “Huh? Do I have a fever?” I slipped my hand inside his shirt, “Let me see the temperature difference between us.” His chest was so hard. I was half-lying on his lap, and that felt pretty… you know too. Hehe. I rubbed against him purposefully. Then I got up. Sitting completely on his lap, I pressed my forehead against his: “Am I hot? I don’t feel it.” I looked into his eyes. He has really beautiful peach-blossom eyes. I looked at his high nose bridge. And the thin lips below it. I said, “Senior, you’ve been explaining for so long, you must be thirsty, right? Let me give you some water.” And then I kissed him. My senior was actually playing hard to get at first. 3 Using the experience I gained from watching 800 adult videos, I finally managed to turn him on. Then the two of us kissed passionately in the empty classroom. I guess that meant we were officially together. I couldn’t help but sigh. Everyone said he was aloof and untouchable, but I thought he was pretty easy to get. I hadn’t even given him the red string bracelet I braided myself, the pen I’d used for 5 years, or the little potted plant growing in a water bottle. For the next while, whenever I didn’t have class, I went to find him to make out. I was a freshman. He was a sophomore. I didn’t even know how much I actually liked him. But I felt like I was coming out of a long period of sexual repression and was dying to sleep with him. It was just extreme curiosity. Now that I was in college, my phone usage wasn’t restricted anymore. I started binge-watching those videos again and browsing adult forums… Every night before bed, what I watched left me feeling itchy all over. All I could think about was sleeping with him. Then the next day, I would definitely drag him to an empty corner, kiss him enough, and touch him enough. I was waiting for him to invite me to get a hotel room. 4 It’s not about whether a girl should take the initiative or not. It’s just that I felt if I invited him to a hotel, shouldn’t I be the one paying for the room? I couldn’t let myself fall into that moral dilemma. But when he was with me, he was clearly excited too, he just wouldn’t say the words. I couldn’t figure out what his deal was. My two roommates who were dating had already experienced that. Whenever I asked, they’d just say I’d understand once I experienced it myself. Which only made me more curious. I was practically dying of curiosity. Until I saw his ID card. His birthday was coming up. I quickly asked him, “Babe, what are you doing for your birthday?” He said, “I have to go home on my birthday.” He paused for a second: “It’s not convenient to take you back just yet.” I quickly expressed my understanding. He said, “The day before my birthday, I’m treating everyone to dinner.” 5 According to the dating traditions at our school, that meant he would invite his bros, and I would bring my roommates and best friends. But normally that was for dinner in the evening. After eating, everyone would go play all night. Yes. Getting to college is true freedom. It’s so fucking awesome. I thought about how with so many people there in the evening, they would probably give him gifts. If my gift was shabby, I’d be laughed at. Which wouldn’t be good for my mating prospects for the next four years. So I said, “Then during the day we can have some alone time, and the others can give you gifts later.” He nodded. 6 I really wanted to know where we could get a hotel room for free. If I didn’t get to sleep with a handsome guy like him, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. Plus, he wasn’t materialistic yet, so he seemed like an easy catch. The day before his birthday arrived. It happened to be a Saturday. We planned to stick together the whole day, and then have dinner with our roommates in the afternoon. To be honest, I was broke. I assumed everyone around me was broke too. Maybe just slightly richer than me. Anyway, our dorm always grouped together to score freebies and buy tissue paper for ten cents a pack. So, I assumed he was broke too. The watches he occasionally wore, I figured were knock-offs. Of course, I didn’t recognize the brands anyway. I was too embarrassed to ask him, afraid of hurting his pride. Besides, what’s wrong with being a little vain? Wasn’t it just that he blamed me, his useless girlfriend, for not being able to spend money on him? 7 I held his hand and said enthusiastically, “Senior, today is your birthday, and the first birthday we’re spending together. I’m going to give you a very unique gift.” A slight smile appeared on his lips: “This is actually the first time you’re giving me a gift.” My heart skipped a beat. He was actually keeping track of this? He had given me an Apple phone and an Apple laptop. Because when I couldn’t finish my assignments, I complained that my phone and computer were trash. When we went to the cafeteria to eat, I swiped his card. If he forgot to give me his card to swipe, I would only get plain rice and free seaweed egg drop soup, to make him feel guilty. I looked at him carefully and asked, “Are you guys really that petty? Keeping track of something like this?” He shut his mouth and stopped talking. I felt the atmosphere get a little awkward. I held his hand and started making empty promises: “I’m a little poor right now, but don’t underestimate a poor youth. When I strike it rich in the future, I’ll definitely treat you well and bring all the gifts in the world to you.” He glanced at me and just said, “Oh.” 8 Until we walked up to a small store with “Lottery” written on it. I pointed at it and said, “Babe, this is where our dreams originate.” He looked at me with a confused expression. I pulled him by the hand, and boldly and generously said to the owner, “Give me a lottery ticket!” I turned back to my boyfriend and said, “I’m giving you the chance to win 5 million.” “This is more meaningful than any other cheap gift.” The owner stared at his watch, unable to speak for a long time. I picked his birthday numbers and combined them with mine. The owner printed it out. Then handed it to me. He took a picture of the lottery ticket. I asked, “Who are you sending that to?” “Since it’s such a meaningful gift, of course I have to make it a reality.” Wow. I looked at him admiringly. He was really good at bragging. I’d brag like that too in the future. 9 We found another empty little corner and made out. I felt two hotel key cards in his clothes. I was shocked: “Who are you sleeping with?!” “Tonight’s for us.” I was instantly overjoyed. Tears of joy practically drooled from the corner of my mouth. In the evening, we had dinner with our roommates. They went out to play. We were getting ready to go to the hotel. We happened to pass a lottery stand, and it was time for the drawing. We stood there to see if we won. I hadn’t held out any hope. Result: We won! First prize. I was so excited I couldn’t speak. 10 He smiled, eyes curving, and said to me, “Thank you for the birthday gift, babe. I really won 5 million.” In that moment, I thought a lot. My mind traveled across mountains and rivers, even anticipating a courtroom confrontation. I snatched the lottery ticket right back and cursed, “Who are you calling babe? Don’t get ahead of yourself.” “Give you a birthday present? Are you crazy, do I even know you?” The lottery stand owner was stunned. Winking at me frantically. Praising me for doing the right thing. He was stunned too… Only I wasn’t stunned… I grabbed the ticket and ran. I didn’t go eat with him, and I didn’t go to the hotel. I didn’t sleep at all that night. I kept thinking, I’m rich now. How am I going to splurge and enjoy life?

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