Category: English

At the banquet, my husband’s subordinate, hoping to win his favor, brought out ninety-nine women who looked just like me. “Your wife can’t have children. But these women are all fertile. Have them give birth, and let her raise the kids.” Landon Cross pulled me into his arms, his tone firm. “Yvonne is the only one I love. I will never touch another woman.” After that, I threw countless resources his way and got blood on my hands, helping him to become a billionaire. Until the seventh year, a voluptuous, fair-skinned woman showed up at my door with seven children. I recognized this woman, Chloe. She was one of those ninety-nine women from years ago, the one who looked most like me. Right in front of me, she smugly lifted her shirt and nursed her youngest child. “Seven whole years, I’ve given birth to seven boys. Landon says the company’s stock price keeps rising because I gave birth to lucky babies who brought fortune to the company.” “How could a barren hen like you deserve to be his wife?” I lit a cigarette, looked her up and down, then sent her to the black market.

By the time Landon arrived at the black market, Chloe was already worth thirty million. Her highly fertile body had caught the eye of many wealthy merchants. “I heard women like her are the most fun.” “I’m going to buy her and make her a breeding machine. Maybe my company’s stock price will rise too because of lucky babies.” These words reached Landon’s ears. His expression grew darker and darker. I merely sneered mockingly. The Cross family business grew because of the Lowell family’s investment and my ruthless methods. How could it possibly be due to a few so-called “lucky babies”? Chloe hung from the auction stage, frightening. The moment she saw Landon, her delicate ankles kicked wildly in the air. “Honey, save me! I still have our baby in my belly.” Anxiety flooded Landon’s eyes. Under everyone’s watchful gaze, he knelt on one knee beside my feet, his voice trembling. “Yvonne, please let her go. Or at least wait until she gives birth, then you can deal with her however you want.” I looked at Landon as if looking at a stranger. He had only knelt twice in his life. The first time was at my father’s hospital bed. He knelt and swore he would never betray me. My father passed away with a smile, and I became Mrs. Cross. The second time was now. Mr. Landon Cross, who appeared so lofty in front of others, begging. “It’s a girl.” “We lost a daughter once. Just think of it as our daughter being reincarnated into Chloe’s belly.” I nearly went insane. “How dare Chloe even compare!” That daughter was a child I had longed for in the first year of our marriage, after going through countless treatments. But when I was three months pregnant, Landon was kidnapped by a rival gang. I didn’t have time to wait for my men to arrive. I went alone to rescue him. But no matter how skilled I was, I couldn’t fight off that many vicious men. Those three hours were living hell. Our daughter, when removed, was already formed enough to show human features. A butterfly knife flew from my sleeve, slashing across Landon’s cheek, leaving a bloody mark. Landon seemed not to feel the pain. He shook his head helplessly. “If you’ve let off steam, stop making a scene. You’re five years older than me, why are you still acting like a child?” Seeing Landon injured, Chloe screamed frantically, ignoring that she was still hanging there. “Yvonne Lowell! My husband finds it disgusting every time he touches you…” Landon’s eyes flashed with warning, and his subordinate immediately stepped onto the auction stage and gagged Chloe. A metallic sweetness rose in my throat. My voice turned hoarse. “So, you find me disgusting.” I unconsciously touched my lower abdomen. My second child with Landon was still sleeping peacefully inside. Landon desperately tried to explain, but I felt so tired. I waved my hand. “This farce should end.” The auctioneer’s gavel fell. The wealthy merchant who won Chloe trembled with his entire body of fat as he carried her into a room. Landon’s eyes turned bloodshot. He pulled out a handgun. Bang. Bang. Bang. Three bullet holes appeared at my feet. “I’ve said everything nicely, yet you’re still so heartless. I’ll say this one last time-let Chloe go, or the next shot won’t be aimed at the floor.” I looked at him calmly, not even my eyelashes trembling. “Mr. Cross, be my guest.” If Landon dared to shoot, he would be riddled with bullets on Lowell family territory. He glared at me fiercely, then like an enraged lion, led his men charging toward Chloe. Moments later, the wealthy merchant, covered in bullet wounds, was thrown out. As Landon carried Chloe past me, his gaze was icy cold. “Thank God! Chloe’s daughter is fine. Otherwise, I wouldn’t let you off so easily.” Watching his retreating figure, I called the hospital. This child had congenital abnormalities. The doctor said there was a risk of miscarriage at any time. Now it seemed there was no need to force myself to keep it. How could such a man deserve to be a father?

I had my lawyer draft a divorce agreement. Landon would leave the marriage with nothing. Not a penny of what he’d earned over these years. I took the divorce agreement to Landon’s office. On the way, I received a call from my assistant. “Mrs. Cross, something terrible has happened! Mr. Cross brought a construction team. He says he’s going to dig up your first child’s body. He wants a priest to perform an exorcism.” After hanging up, my hands were shaking. Once, Landon and I built a cemetery for our deceased daughter, Nina, wanting to give her a sheltered home underground. Now we had become a bitter couple, but why should adult grudges involve innocent children? When I arrived at the cemetery, Nina’s coffin had been carelessly thrown on the ground. Several priests stood around, praying. I spotted Landon immediately. He was holding Chloe, tucking her messy hair behind her ear. At first glance, they looked exactly like Landon and me seven years ago. Suppressing the rage in my heart, I clutched Nina’s coffin to my chest. The priests suddenly stopped chanting and pointed at the coffin in my arms, shouting sternly. “It’s this evil spirit that has prevented Mrs. Cross from having children for years!” Chloe nestled in Landon’s arms, adding fuel to the fire. “The master is right!” Landon frowned but didn’t stop them. The priest then splashed holy water at me, instantly soaking my white clothes. But fortunately, I protected Nina’s coffin well. It didn’t get wet. I wiped the water droplets from my face and looked at Landon. He avoided my gaze, saying only in a deep voice, “I’m doing this for your own good.” I found everything absurdly ridiculous. I pulled out the divorce agreement from my document bag and threw it directly in Landon’s face. “Sign it.” Landon looked as if he’d heard something unbelievable. “You’re actually willing to divorce me? We once had a child together. We’re already inseparable. “When Chloe’s daughter is born, I’ll have her call you mom, to make up for the child we lost…” I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, they were cold and desolate. “Landon, of all your mistakes, you should never have kept using our child to provoke me.” I waved my hand. The Lowell family bodyguards behind me immediately understood. They restrained Chloe. Those burly men kicked her belly with every strike. Chloe screamed. Soon blood appeared. Landon’s eyes turned blood-red. He snatched the divorce agreement, signed his name without even looking, scrawling rapidly. “Let her go!” I clapped my hands together and laughed gleefully. I wondered if this penniless man could afford to raise his seven children after the divorce.

Landon took Chloe to the hospital. When I ran into Landon, he had just come from the direction of the operating room, his eyes bloodshot. “What are you doing here? Did you come to see if Chloe is dead? Or to watch me suffer?” I was here for a surgical checkup. I didn’t bother arguing with him and tried to walk around him. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so strong it nearly crushed my bones. “Chloe’s baby couldn’t be saved. It was a fully formed female fetus. You killed my daughter for the second time!” “Let go.” My stomach churned violently. The child in my belly, perhaps knowing its birth wasn’t welcomed, kept making me sick. Seeing me like this, Landon’s eyes reddened. “You hate my touch that much? I haven’t even said you disgust me, so why do you find me revolting?” Sharp, dull pain riddled my heart. Landon really knew me-knew exactly how to stab me where it hurt most. At that moment, a doctor approached with a report. “Mr. Cross, here are the genetic test results…” Landon rudely interrupted him. He pointed sharply at my face and loudly proclaimed to the doctor and everyone around. “No need to confirm! This venomous woman can’t have children herself, so she had someone kick Chloe’s four-month-old daughter to death! She’s a murderer!” The surrounding crowd instantly erupted. “Can’t have her own, so she won’t let others have theirs either.” “No wonder her husband doesn’t want her…” A flash of satisfaction crossed Landon’s eyes. He lowered his voice, his tone cruel. “Yvonne, kneel down in front of everyone and apologize to Chloe. Otherwise, I don’t mind making things even more humiliating for you.” Landon pulled out his phone and showed me a video. These videos-Landon had kept them all along. Those terrible, disgusting memories flooded back into my mind. I crouched down, hugging myself tightly, my whole body convulsing. “Yvonne, Yvonne, don’t scare me…” My body felt light. I fell into a familiar embrace. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Landon sitting by my hospital bed, looking somewhat exhausted. Seeing me awake, his eyes reddened. “You fool, I just wanted you to soften up a bit. How could I really do that…” I smiled bleakly, finding it all meaningless. “Landon, we’ve loved each other for so many years, yet we’ve become bitter enemies. You deserve full credit for that.” The hospital room door opened. Chloe walked in holding a stuffed rabbit, her eyes red. “Honey, I just had a dream. I dreamed our daughter came to me, asking why I didn’t protect her…” Landon stood up, put his arm around Chloe’s waist, and walked out while comforting her. As he left, he paused. “That divorce agreement-I signed it in a moment of panic. I’m treating it as invalid. “What happened earlier was my fault, but I also hope you can apologize to Chloe for hurting her child.” Chloe curled up in Landon’s arms, smirking at me provocatively. I grabbed a vase and hurled it at Chloe. Landon’s reaction was almost instinctive. He shielded Chloe completely in his arms. Landon turned back slowly, looking at me with eyes full of ice. “Yvonne, I’m very disappointed in you.” The perfect couple left hand in hand. I lay in the hospital bed, looking at Chloe’s genetic test report, almost laughing out loud.

Before news of the divorce spread, Landon couldn’t wait to parade around with Chloe. We met again at an auction. I wanted to buy a jade bracelet. “Thirty million.” I raised my paddle. The price was already very high, and competitors in the room fell silent. From the VIP section across from me, Chloe whispered in Landon’s ear. When her eyes glanced toward me, they carried undisguised provocation. Landon’s lips curved into a smile. He gestured to the auctioneer. The entire venue instantly erupted. “Mr. Cross bids the highest price!” This meant that no matter how much I bid, he would outbid me, just to make his beauty smile. In the end, he purchased the jade bracelet at an absurd sky-high price and personally placed it on Chloe’s wrist. Chloe stroked the jade on her wrist, lifted her chin at me, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Honey, this jade really suits me. Some people-when they’re old, they’re just old. Nothing looks good on them.” Landon beside her not only didn’t stop her but indulgently tightened his arm around her waist. Chloe, arm in arm with him, left like a victor. She handed me a red invitation, her smile glaring. “Miss Lowell, in three days, Landon and I are getting married. You absolutely must come witness our happiness!” I accepted it, my fingers casually flicking the invitation. “Sure.” Turning around, I made a phone call, my tone calm. “You won that bet from seven years ago. When my marital status changes to ‘widowed,’ come marry me.” I had wanted to part ways amicably with Landon, but he kept indulging Chloe’s provocations. He seemed to have forgotten-I always seek revenge. I never swallow my anger. Three days later, I arrived at the wedding as promised. The wedding was extremely lavish. Chloe’s seven children served as flower children. The venue was packed with guests, but the atmosphere was strange. Landon remarrying after betraying his wife-these social elites didn’t want to wade into this mess. It was only because I had my assistant send out invitations widely that they felt compelled to come. The moment I stepped into the banquet hall, the noise stopped abruptly. All eyes focused on me. Seeing me, Chloe’s eyes flashed with cold light. Then she clapped her hands. “Let’s show everyone something interesting!” The large screen at the wedding lit up. It was a video of me being abused by Landon’s rival gang years ago. My body was covered in blood and filthy fluids, like a broken doll. In the video, I screamed shrilly, “Kill me! Kill me!” Those men cackled with laughter. “Mr. Cross didn’t tell us to kill you. He wants to keep you alive and record this video. That’s the only way he can really control you.” Countless midnight dreams, I would dream of this scene. Back then, I didn’t believe those events were orchestrated by Landon. I thought my memory was confused. But that day in the hospital, I saw on Landon’s phone the video that should have been destroyed. Only then did I realize with horror that the man I had loved for so many years had always been a demon. When the video ended, the entire venue fell deathly silent. Only Landon frantically questioned Chloe. “Who gave you permission to show this video? Yvonne will have a breakdown!” For the first time, Chloe saw such a terrifying Landon. She shook her head in panic. “I didn’t know…” Under everyone’s gaze, I walked step by step toward Landon. I tossed him a wooden box and sneered mockingly. “Congratulations on your wedding, Mr. Cross.” Landon’s face turned deathly pale. After seeing what was in the box, his eyes nearly split with rage.

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After my miscarriage, my abdomen felt like it had been crushed by a truck. My husband William walked in wearing his white coat. He pulled off his gloves while coldly informing me: “It’s good this baby’s gone. Now we can remove part of your uterus and transplant it to Juliet.” I thought I’d misheard. I weakly asked: “What did you say? Who’s Juliet?” His eyes held no warmth, as if looking at an organ container: “My first love. She has congenital underdeveloped uterus and can’t be a mother. You have a good constitution. We won’t be having children anyway, so you might as well help her out.” I struggled to sit up, disbelief filling my eyes: “William, I’m your wife! You want me to give my organs to your old flame?” He pressed down on my shoulder, his tone brooking no argument: “This is the medically optimal solution. It’s also your chance to atone.” “Atone? What did I do wrong?” He looked down at me from above, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses: “You’ve occupied the position that should have been hers for five years. That’s your mistake. I’ve already signed the surgical consent form for you. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll stop your father’s medication tomorrow.” I lay on the cold operating table, staring at the blinding surgical light overhead. So in his heart, I wasn’t even a person. Just a spare parts warehouse.

After William said this, he threw the surgical informed consent form directly in my face. The sharp edge of the paper cut across my cheek, stinging painfully. The pen tip nearly blinded my eye. I ignored the pain on my face and desperately grabbed the hem of his white coat. “William, are you insane? I just had a miscarriage! That was our child!” “Doing a transplant surgery now—do you want me to die on the operating table?” William slapped my hand away in disgust, as if brushing off something dirty. “You won’t die. I’m the lead surgeon. I know what I’m doing.” “Besides, that embryo wasn’t viable anyway. It’s better that it’s gone.” “Juliet can’t wait any longer. Her birthday is next month. This is my gift to her.” A gift? Using my organs to please his first love? I trembled all over, whether from anger or cold, I couldn’t tell. “I won’t sign! I’ll call the police! This is intentional harm!” William let out a cold laugh, the look of someone superior regarding an ant. “Call the police? I’m your legal husband and your attending physician.” “I have the right to decide your treatment plan.” “And by the way, did you forget? Your father is still lying in the ICU.” At the mention of my father, I fell silent like a chicken with its throat squeezed. William was satisfied with my reaction. He unhurriedly pulled out his phone. “Your father’s medical expenses are twelve thousand dollars a day. It’s only through my connections that he’s in the special care ward.” “With just one phone call, he’ll be thrown into the hallway tonight.” “Want to try it?” I bit through my lip. The taste of blood spread through my mouth. Five years ago, I was a prodigy at medical school. He was a poor boy living on financial aid. To support him through his doctoral studies, I gave up graduate school to sell insurance and wait tables. I worked three jobs a day. My hands were corroded by dish soap. Back then, he carried me on his back through the snow when I had a fever, swearing he’d protect me for life. Now, wearing the designer shirt I bought him, he wanted to take me apart and give me away. “William, did a dog eat your conscience?”

“I supported your education, supported your whole family. Is this how you repay me?” William’s face darkened, as if I’d touched a nerve. “Shut up! That was all your wishful thinking, your self-indulgent delusion!” “If you hadn’t desperately clung to me, Juliet and I would have been married long ago!” “You’re just a burden. Besides cooking and washing clothes, what else can you do?” “Juliet is different. She’s George’s daughter. She can advance my career.” “Giving her your uterus is the greatest value you’ll have in this life.” Just then, the hospital room door was pushed open. A nurse came in with a medication cart. Seeing the tense atmosphere, she didn’t dare speak. William resumed his sanctimonious appearance. “Change the dressing for bed 3. Also prepare her for surgery. First case tomorrow morning.” The nurse hesitated: “Dr. William, bed 3 just had a D&C procedure. Her vital signs…” “Do as I say!” William barked. The nurse flinched and quickly nodded. William pulled back my blanket in front of the outsider. Without any respect, as if examining a piece of pork. “Recovery looks fine. Won’t affect the extraction.” Extraction. Was I a package? The overwhelming humiliation made me want to scream, but I couldn’t make a sound. Because I saw a wheelchair had stopped at the doorway. A woman sat in it, smiling at me. That was Juliet. I’d only seen her photo in the inner fold of William’s wallet. It was an old photo from many years ago. The girl in the photo looked as pure as a white flower. The current Juliet wore a hospital gown. Though sitting in a wheelchair, her complexion was rosy. She even looked healthier than me, who had just miscarried. The moment William saw her, he changed his expression completely, becoming tender enough to melt. “Juliet, why did you come? There are bacteria here. Don’t get infected.” Juliet coyly extended her hand, letting William help her. “William, I was worried about Lena. Lena just lost her baby. She must be devastated. I wanted to see her.” She had William push the wheelchair to my bedside. I smelled her expensive perfume—the one William had bought with my card last week. Juliet grabbed my hand. Tears came instantly. “Lena, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. My body is useless.” “I just want to give William a child so badly.” “Since you can’t have one, just let me borrow your uterus. You don’t need it anymore anyway.” Borrow? Could such a thing be borrowed? I looked at her fake face, nausea churning in my stomach. “Get out! Don’t touch me!” I used all my strength to shake off her hand. Juliet fell backward deliberately, collapsing to the floor with a cry. “Oh! That hurts!” “Juliet!” William rushed over to lift her up, then turned and slapped me across the face. “Smack!” The slap was brutal. It hit me so hard that my post-surgical abdomen cramped violently. My vision went black. “Lena! You vicious woman! Juliet came to see you out of kindness, and you pushed her!” I covered my face, my ears ringing. “She’s faking… William, are you blind? She’s not even sick!” I hadn’t used any force in that shake. And her pulse was strong and powerful, her palm warm. She wasn’t someone with congenital disease at all. I studied medicine. I still had that much judgment. William didn’t listen at all. He carefully lifted Juliet back into the wheelchair. “If anything happens to Juliet, I’ll take your life!”

Juliet curled up in William’s arms, sobbing: “William, don’t blame Lena. She’s probably just too jealous of me.” “After all, I’m the one you’re going to marry. She’s just a transition.” William tenderly wiped away her tears. “What transition? She’s just a housekeeper.” Then he took out his phone and, right in front of me, called my father’s attending physician on speakerphone. “Hello, this is William.” “Stop the ventilator for half an hour.” The doctor’s hesitant voice came through: “William, this… the patient can’t survive without the ventilator. Half an hour will be fatal.” William looked at me, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Do as I say. If anything happens, I’ll take responsibility. Or rather, this is the family’s request.” The call ended. Less than a minute later, the alarm from the monitoring equipment in my father’s room echoed down the hallway. It was a countdown to death. “No! William, you bastard!” I broke down crying. Ignoring the severe pain in my abdomen, I knelt on the bed and kowtowed to him. “Please! Don’t hurt my father! I’ll sign! I’ll sign!” “I’ll give you whatever you want! Please don’t stop his medication!” Dignity? In the face of a loved one’s life, dignity was worthless. William was satisfied with my submission. He hung up and ordered the oxygen restored. Then he patted my face from above, like patting an obedient dog. “Wouldn’t this have been easier from the start?” “Eight o’clock tomorrow morning in the OR. Make sure you’re clean.” “I don’t like dirty things.” Juliet covered her mouth and laughed: “Lena is so understanding. Thank you for your sacrifice.” They left. Leaving me alone in the darkness, listening to my father’s weak heartbeat from the end of the hallway. In that moment, the Lena in my heart died. I kept my eyes open all night until dawn. Like a movie playing in my mind, all the moments from these five years. To save money to buy him medical textbooks, I bought the cheapest sanitary pads. When he published his first paper, I was happier than him. I treated everyone in the lab to dinner. Back then he said: “Lena, when I become a renowned doctor, the first thing I’ll do is cure Dad.” Turns out, it was all a lie. From the beginning, I was the “drawback” after he weighed the pros and cons. Six o’clock the next morning. William brought a group of medical interns for rounds. He was high-spirited, his gold-rimmed glasses reflecting cold light, showing no trace of last night’s ferocity. “Everyone, today we’ll discuss a special case.” He pointed at me, as if introducing an object. “Patient Lena, habitual miscarriage due to uterine malformation. She has a strong desire to donate.” “We will perform a highly difficult partial uterine transplant surgery.” “The recipient is a young woman with congenital uterine underdevelopment.” The interns took notes, pens scratching away. Someone muttered quietly: “This is a living donor transplant. Did it pass ethical review?” William glanced coolly at that person. “Family signatures are complete. The patient herself strongly requested to atone… oh no, to contribute.” He deliberately misspoke, causing whispers among those around. Those gazes fell on me. Probing, contemptuous, and pitying. As if I were a soulless medical specimen, a piece of meat awaiting slaughter. I gripped the bedsheet tightly, my nails breaking into my flesh. “William, you’re lying!”

I shouted with a hoarse voice. “I’m not willing! You forced me! You were going to kill my father!” The scene fell deathly silent. The interns looked at each other, their pens stopped. William’s expression didn’t change. He even shook his head with a hint of regret. He pulled out a paper from the medical chart. “After the miscarriage, the patient developed severe delusional disorder. She’s emotionally unstable and aggressive.” “This is the psychiatric evaluation report from last night.” He displayed the forged report for everyone to see. “She constantly imagines someone is trying to harm her father. In fact, her father is already brain dead. We’ve just been maintaining him.” Public opinion reversed instantly. Everyone looked at me like I was insane. “So she’s crazy. No wonder.” “William really has it tough, having to care for a crazy wife.” “So pitiful. She doesn’t even know she miscarried.” I opened my mouth wide, wanting to explain, but found words so powerless. In this world of authority constructed by white coats, I was just a madwoman. William waved his hand: “The patient is agitated. Administer a sedative.” Two male orderlies rushed up and pinned me down, one on each side. A cold needle pierced my neck. “Let me go… William… may you die a horrible death…” The medication took effect quickly. My vision began to blur, my tongue grew thick. In my daze, I saw Juliet standing at the door. She wasn’t in the wheelchair—she stood perfectly straight. She mouthed words to me: “Idiot.” Then, while the interns were leaving, she slipped in. She pinched my IV tube with her sharp nails until the tube was flattened. “Lena, actually I’m not sick at all.” She whispered in my ear, like a serpent’s hiss. “My uterus is perfectly fine. I just don’t want to give birth myself. Afraid of pain, afraid of ruining my figure.” “William said your uterus is well-maintained. Perfect for me to use.” “He also said you reek of cooking oil and have disgusted him for a long time.” “Only I am his muse.” My whole body was limp, unable to move, but I didn’t close my eyes. I bit through the tip of my tongue. The sharp pain kept me barely conscious. Blood flowed down from the corner of my mouth. Juliet, William. As long as I don’t die, I will skin you alive and pull out your tendons. All the suffering I’ve endured—I’ll return it to you a thousandfold! The sedative dosage wasn’t enough. Or rather, hatred gave me drug resistance. During the nurses’ shift change, using my former medical knowledge, I pulled out the needle. Blood droplets splattered on the floor like red plum blossoms. I stole an intern’s white coat, put on a mask, and stumbled out of the room. I had to take my father away. Even if I died on the road, I couldn’t let him fall into the hands of this pair of dogs. My father’s ICU was upstairs. I held onto the wall, shuffling step by step. Each step felt like a knife twisting in my lower body. Finally, I reached that familiar door. My hand had just touched the doorknob when I heard voices inside. “William, do we really need to keep Lena’s father around?” It was Juliet’s voice. “The ventilator is so noisy. It’s giving me a headache.” Then came William’s voice, cold as ice. “Originally we could drag it out a few more days to control Lena.” “But since the surgery is happening anyway, this old thing is useless now.” “Plus, his little pension isn’t even enough to cover the special care fees.”

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At the airport security checkpoint, the security officer asked the routine question: “Are you carrying any prohibited items?” I was about to shake my head when my assistant beside me raised her hand with an innocent expression on her face. “Do blades count? She’s got dozens of them in her suitcase!” As soon as the words left her mouth, the entire area fell deathly silent. The security officer pressed her radio, and security personnel instantly surrounded us like an iron wall. I broke out in a nervous sweat. “I’m a doctor! I’m going to the neighboring state for emergency surgery. My suitcase only contains medical instruments. I have the permits!” “Open it.” The security officer’s face remained expressionless. Inside the bag were neatly arranged surgical scalpels, hemostatic clamps, and a change of clothes. While pointing out each item, I turned back and urged, “Did you bring the medical records?” My assistant Bella kept her head down, her voice like a mosquito’s hum. “I… I brought them.” “What’s this bottle?” The security officer suddenly pointed at a shadow on the screen. Before I could react, Bella spoke up with an innocent expression, shouting loudly: “I already told you gasoline can’t be brought on the plane. Why won’t you listen? Are you planning to blow up the plane or something?” The air froze once again. The security officer’s eyes shifted from suspicion to vigilance. “Please follow us both to the interrogation room.” Hearing this, my mind went blank with a buzzing sound. The patient on the operating table had already been anesthetized, but the lead surgeon was being treated as a suspect at the airport because of her assistant’s loose lips. At this moment, there were eighteen minutes until the boarding gate closed.

“Officer, this is a misunderstanding!” My voice cracked with urgency as my hands gripped the handle of my suitcase desperately. “I’m Chloe, the chief physician at Hope Hospital. There’s a critically ill seven-year-old child waiting for me to save their life!” “There’s absolutely no gasoline in my bag. She’s lying!” Several special police officers had already surrounded us. Although the dark muzzles of their guns weren’t raised, the sense of oppression was suffocating. “Whether it’s a lie or not, anything involving flammable and explosive materials or terrorist statements must be investigated.” The security team leader’s face was cold as he snatched away my boarding pass. “Take them away!” Two female security officers twisted my arms behind my back and forcibly pushed me toward the sealed interrogation room. Looking back, Bella was leisurely following behind. I was so angry my blood felt like it was flowing backward. “Bella! Do you know what you’re doing?!” “That child has massive bleeding in the chest cavity. Every minute of delay could cost them their life!” Bella rolled her eyes and examined her freshly done manicure. “Chloe, aren’t you being a bit overdramatic?” “I was just trying to lighten the mood. How was I supposed to know these people can’t take a joke?” She pointed at the security officer with a grieved expression. “Besides, who told you to check so strictly? I casually mention gasoline and you believe it? No sense of humor at all.” The security team leader’s face turned iron-blue. “Sense of humor?” “Miss, claiming to carry gasoline and blades at an airport constitutes fabricating false terrorist information. That’s a crime!” Bella scoffed. “Stop trying to scare me. My relative is a leader at the Health Bureau. You dare arrest me?” “Let us go quickly, or I’ll file a complaint against you for violent law enforcement!” Her reckless attitude completely enraged the police. The interrogation room door slammed shut. I glanced at the electronic clock on the wall. Ten minutes until takeoff. If I didn’t get on now, it would be too late!

I dropped to my knees with a thud. “Officers, the liquid in the bag is just alcohol. I accept the penalty! Confiscate the alcohol, lock me up afterward if you want!” “But can you please let me board the plane first? I’m a doctor. The neighboring state hospital urgently needs me for surgery. They’re already calling me!” “If you don’t let me board, it’ll be too late!!” The police officer’s eyes changed. He immediately picked up his radio. “Command center, verify the suspect’s identity. If this is a misunderstanding, requesting assistance…” Hearing this, Bella sat in a chair to the side, crossed her legs, and laughed outright. “Officer, let me tell you the truth. She’s not going to the neighboring state for any emergency surgery. She’s fleeing to escape punishment.” The officer’s hand tightened on the radio, his eyes instantly becoming sharp. “Fleeing? Explain yourself!” Bella’s face showed mockery. “Chloe just killed someone on the operating table yesterday. The family members are causing a scene at the hospital right now.” “The hospital issued a notice this morning—suspended pending investigation, medical license to be revoked.” “She’s afraid of going to jail, so she made up an excuse to run away to another place and lay low.” After speaking, she covered her mouth with exaggerated surprise as she looked at me. “Chloe, I didn’t want to expose you. After all, we’ve been colleagues. Several friends even specifically asked me to represent them in seeing you off this time.” “But you can’t use these kind officers’ goodwill as a tool.” As she finished, the security team leader’s face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot. “Is what she said true?” Of course Bella was lying. And it was the kind of outrageous lie that could destroy a doctor’s entire career! I stared hard at Bella’s face, trembling with rage. “Bella, I’ve always treated you well—helped you publish papers, shielded you from complaints. Why are you trying to destroy me like this?!” The smile vanished from Bella’s face instantly. She suddenly leaned close to me, grinding her teeth as she spoke in a low voice. “Treated me well?” “Chloe, stop pretending to be a saint!” “Last week when that rich kid from the VIP ward added me on Twitter, why did you confiscate my phone in front of the head nurse?” “And you called me out at the morning meeting, saying I dressed provocatively and didn’t meet medical staff standards?” “You made me lose face, made me unable to hold my head up in front of those interns!” She grew more agitated as she spoke, the malice in her eyes almost overflowing. “You’re the director, so what? You’re an expert, big deal?” “Today I’m going to make sure you can’t leave!” So the reason was this absurd. Simply because I stopped her from flirting with a patient’s family member in a sterile ward, simply because I wanted to maintain departmental discipline. She was willing to sacrifice a seven-year-old child’s life at this critical moment! I laughed bitterly, about to retort. The security team leader’s sharp shout interrupted our confrontation. He had obviously been influenced by Bella’s words, looking at me with eyes full of scrutiny. “Enough! If this involves medical malpractice and fleeing, the situation has changed.” “Confiscate her bag, detain her first, and notify the district police station and Health Bureau to pick her up.” Two female officers immediately stepped forward, gripping my shoulders from left and right. At that moment, the clock on the wall jumped forward. Six minutes left. The boarding gate was about to close! I was losing my mind. Because once the gate closed, even if I could prove my innocence, I wouldn’t make this flight—the only one available. And that child couldn’t wait for the next flight! “I’m not lying! I didn’t kill anyone!” I struggled desperately. “I have evidence! I have proof!” “Let me get my phone! Please let me get my phone!” The security team leader frowned, seemingly impatient with my resistance. “Settle down! You’ll get your chance to talk at the police station!” “There’s no time! It’s a life at stake!” Tears and mucus covered my face. I had completely lost the dignity of a chief physician. “I need my phone! Let me look at my phone! Just one look!” “If it’s fake, you can shoot me right here!”

Perhaps the desperation in my eyes was too real. The young officer who had been observing me grabbed the team leader’s arm. “Team leader, let her.” “What if… what if it’s true?” The team leader was silent for two seconds, then snorted coldly and let go. “Watch her. Don’t let her delete anything.” With trembling hands, I pulled my phone from my pocket. As soon as the screen lit up, countless red notifications popped up. All from the director of the neighboring state’s Central Hospital. I frantically opened the conversation and held the phone screen up to the officers. “Look… please look!” “This is the Twitter account of the neighboring state Central Hospital director!” “This is the child’s medical record!” “These are real-time surveillance screenshots from their operating room!” I cried while scrolling through the screen, my voice breaking. The officer frowned, half-believing as he took the phone and randomly clicked on the most recent long voice message. The next second, an elderly voice came through. “Chloe! The child’s heart rate has dropped to 40! Blood pressure can’t be measured!” “There’s too much pleural effusion compressing the heart. We have to open the chest!” “But no one dares to do this surgery except you! The blood vessels are too thin. One tremor and it’s a massive hemorrhage!” “All the hospital’s experts are here watching, all waiting for you alone!” “Chloe! I’m begging you! Please hurry!” In the background, you could hear a nurse’s anxious shouts: “Epinephrine injection complete! Heart rate still dropping!” The voice message stopped. The entire interrogation room once again fell into dead silence. But this time, it wasn’t from suspicion. The security team leader’s expression changed. He instinctively looked at the clock on the wall. Four minutes left. My eyes were red as I stared hard into the officer’s eyes. “Officer, this isn’t a recording. This was sent twenty minutes ago.” “I’m not acting either. I’m begging you… let me go…” The security team leader, who had been so firm just moments ago, moved his lips as if wanting to say something. The suspicion in his eyes looking at me was rapidly fading. However, just as I thought I could leave smoothly, Bella’s shrill voice rang out again. “Pfft.” She covered her mouth, laughing so hard she could barely stand. “Chloe, you really went all out with this performance.” “Where did you hire this actor? The director? That old guy’s voice imitation is pretty good.” “You even prepared background audio? Must have spent quite a bit of money.” She leisurely walked up to the officer, pointing at my phone with utter disdain. “These days, fraud software is so advanced.” “You can buy a bunch of these voice generators online for a hundred bucks.” “The background audio is just downloaded material from the internet.” “If she was really so urgent, why didn’t she show this earlier? Why wait until now?” “She obviously just made this up on the spot, trying to fool you!” “Besides, if the surgery was really this urgent, that hospital would have sent a helicopter by now. They wouldn’t make her take a commercial flight, would they?” “The logic doesn’t even make sense. Only laypeople would fall for this.” Bella became more pleased with herself as she spoke. She turned to look at me, her eyes full of provocation. “Chloe, to avoid responsibility for medical malpractice, you’d even fake a critical condition notice.” “Do you have any medical ethics left?” “You’re the scum of the medical profession!” The security team leader, who had just been about to let go, became uncertain again because of these words. He was getting annoyed and ordered directly: “Continue interrogating both of them! Hurry up and verify Chloe’s real identity!”

In the interrogation room, I stared hard at that exquisitely made-up face before me. Bella was someone the director had forced on me—someone with family connections. Normally, I tolerated her slacking off during work and just clocking in and out. When she handed me the wrong clamp in the operating room or wrote incorrect medical records, I covered for her too. But I never imagined her humanity could be extinguished to this degree! Originally, the hospital had planned to send a helicopter for this surgery, but somehow Bella had said something to the director, and the hospital changed it to having me take a commercial flight. “Bella, that’s a human life!” “You studied medicine too. Did a dog eat your conscience?!” “What exactly are you trying to do!” Bella sneered and took out her compact to touch up her makeup. “I’m just here to build my resume. In a couple years I’ll be promoted to deputy director.” “Who’s like you, stupidly risking your life? Now look—you can’t make the flight, right? Perfect. If I go back now, I can still make it to my date with my senior.” “Shopping and dating? Just because of this?” I forced these words out through clenched teeth. Bella nodded matter-of-factly and took out a mirror to check her eyeliner. “What else! Some dead kid who’s nothing to me, compared to my lifelong happiness—I know which matters more.” She even winked at me. “Chloe, you should actually thank me.” “After all, that surgery only had a 20% success rate. Dying on the table and then having to write a review—so unlucky.” I was about to retort angrily when I heard a loud “bang” as the interrogation room door was thrown open. The person who entered was the criminal police captain. He turned to look at me, his tone somewhat gentler. “Chloe, we’ve verified your identity. You are a national special subsidy expert, and you do have filing records for carrying surgical instruments.” A glimmer of hope lit in my eyes. “Can I leave now?” The captain glanced at the clock on the wall, his eyes showing some reluctance. “The tower just notified us that the flight to the neighboring state took off three minutes ago.” Hearing this news, my legs gave out and I collapsed into a chair. Bella picked up her phone, brushed off the dust, her tone light. “Chloe, now you can give up, right? Come on, let’s go. I’ll treat you to a spa to cool down your temper.” I ignored her. At the same time, my phone rang. It was a video call request from the intensive care unit at the neighboring state hospital. With trembling hands, I answered. On the screen was a panicked face. “Chloe! Chloe, where are you?!” The director on the other end was covered in sweat, his eyes bloodshot. My eyes reddened too. I wanted to apologize, to say I couldn’t make the flight, to say I was sorry. But the words stuck in my throat. I couldn’t get them out. But the other end continued speaking. The camera shifted to focus on the operating table. The director roared furiously: “Chloe! You clearly said you could make it here for the surgery! Do you know that because of your delay, this child just had a massive hemorrhage and died!” My head buzzed. My mouth hung open, my face covered in tears. Five hundred miles, no plane—how could I get there?! Just then, Bella beside me suddenly spoke up: “So noisy! It’s just a dead kid! Is it worth dragging the whole hospital into mourning! People die on operating tables every day!” The director looked at Bella furiously. “Shut up! What are you to say such things!” “This child was the long-lost grandson of a military region commander!” “This time, everyone involved in this surgery won’t escape consequences!”

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My husband has changed recently. He stopped wearing cologne, saying it has too strong a scent. He’s constantly on his phone now, smiling at the screen for no reason. I figured it out—he’s in love. After I put the two kids to sleep, I received a message from his little girlfriend: “The unloved one is the real homewrecker. I’m telling you to divorce Ethan right now. I’m already pregnant! He’s crazy in love with me.” I smiled, pretended not to see it, deleted the message, and blocked her. He’s just cheating. It’s not like he went bankrupt. Besides, his affair is actually a good thing for me. I never expected the mistress to show up at my door, flaunting her pregnant belly: “If you won’t divorce him, I’ll just move in and stay here.” “When I’m in postpartum recovery, you’ll have to take care of me too.” My expression remained calm. Facing her provocation, I showed no emotional reaction: “No need.” “Ethan will hire you a postpartum nurse. He’s got plenty of money.” I pulled out my phone, about to activate the robot vacuum to clean up. Then I worried the mistress might fake a fall and blame me, so I stopped, sat across from her, and called Ethan: “Your little girlfriend showed up here with her pregnant belly.” My husband rushed home from the office in a panic. His hair was windswept and messy, his face stripped of its usual refined composure. When he entered, standing in the foyer, guilt flickered across his features. Along with displeasure at his young girlfriend’s impulsive visit. The mistress stared at me in shock. She hadn’t expected me to be this calm: “Aren’t you angry?” “Your husband cheated on you, and you’re calling him to deal with me?” I ignored her. Instead, I turned to my husband: “Handle this. Don’t let her cause a scene—it’ll be bad for the company.” “From your phone call, it sounds like you left something unfinished at the office?” “I’ll go take care of it for you.” As I walked past my husband, he grabbed my wrist. His mouth opened and closed, as if searching for an explanation. Searching for a reason I could accept, one that would also defend the pregnant mistress standing in our home. I gently pushed his hand away: “No explanation needed.” I took the car keys from him. “Don’t worry about the company matters. I’ll handle them.” “Don’t forget to turn on the robot vacuum.” I closed the door behind me. I could faintly hear his young girlfriend making a scene inside. My footsteps quickly carried me to the car, and the sounds from inside faded away. The company was built from scratch by my husband. Back then, I was his secretary. Because I was fair-skinned, beautiful, and good at my job, he took notice of me. He pursued me for a long time. Engagement, marriage—we became the model couple in everyone’s eyes. At first, he would create romantic gestures, run his fingers through his hair before going out. When we went shopping together, he’d dress up specially, saying it made him feel worthy of being with me. He’d reply to my messages instantly. If I didn’t respond to him, he’d send me message after message. He worked out every day, saying he wanted to maintain his abs for me to touch. When I worked at the company, he’d feel sorry for me, pull me aside, and tell me just sitting there watching was enough. Just sitting there and watching was already hard work, he used to say. That’s what he said when he loved me. Later, he stopped loving me. When there was work at the company, he’d dump it directly on me. When I made mistakes, he’d scold me mercilessly in front of the employees. Going out with me, he lost all patience. He’d stare at his phone, throw on whatever clothes, no effort in his appearance. So recently, when he suddenly started dressing up again and doing push-ups at home, I knew—he’d found someone new to love. “Ms. South.” In the conference room, a senior executive stood and nodded at me. I began cleaning up my husband’s mess. As the sky gradually darkened, my husband entered the office, closed the door, and kept watching me cautiously. He said: “I picked up the kids.”

I threw myself into work. Although it was his company, I benefited too. Every bit I earned meant more money I could spend. More security for my two children. Seeing I wasn’t responding, my husband pulled over a chair and sat beside me: “I’m sorry. It was my fault.” “I never thought she’d come straight to you. I told her not to do that.” “But she insisted on finding you, using her pregnancy as leverage, demanding I divorce you.” I paused. Turned my head to look at him: “So do you want to?” My husband shook his head without hesitation: “No.” “I really love you. With her, it was just a moment of impulse.” I smiled slightly: “Then just handle it yourself.” His expression was extremely anxious. “You’re… not angry?” Before I could answer, he quickly added: “I know you must be furious.” “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. What do you want? A house, a car, a house for your parents, or company shares—anything, as long as you want it.” Looking at his guilty expression, I said: “I’ll take the shares.” “Not for me—for our two kids. To give them security.” My husband’s face filled with even more guilt. He held my hand and cried for a long time. I honestly didn’t understand. He was the one who cheated. What was he crying about? My husband owned eighty percent of the company shares. Because he’d built this company from the ground up. Later, when the company needed to go public, he was forced to distribute some shares. He was smart, with keen instincts. Whatever he did, he made money. That’s what I valued about him—even if he went bankrupt, he had the ability to rise again. He transferred twenty percent of the shares to me. Gave each of our children ten percent, and promised: “There will never be a second time.” “I know you’re worried about the kids’ inheritance rights. I’ve already had my lawyer draft a will. In the future, our children will inherit the majority of my assets. Her child… will inherit a smaller portion. Is that acceptable?” My husband asked me cautiously. I honestly couldn’t understand what he felt guilty about. Guilty, yet still doing the things that betrayed me. Better not to feel guilty at all—just be brazen about it. After all, it was his money. He could give it to whoever he wanted. Did he really think that if I told him not to give shares to the mistress’s child, he wouldn’t do it? I went along with his performance: “Okay, whatever you say.” This compliance made him much more comfortable. His facial expression visibly relaxed. I thought for a moment and said: “Just don’t let it affect the company.” That night, the mistress sent me a text message, taunting: [Don’t think Ethan isn’t divorcing you because he loves you. It’s just because a divorce would hurt the company!] [Eventually, he’ll definitely divorce you! Even if he doesn’t, my child will still have inheritance rights!] I deleted the message again. Pretended I hadn’t seen it. Because her child would never have inheritance rights.

If the mistress didn’t provoke me, I actually didn’t care about his private romantic life. We’d been married for ten years. The passion had long since faded. Our son was in middle school, our daughter about to graduate elementary school. The two children already took up most of my time and energy. But the mistress had to go find my eldest son. I learned about it when my son called me, saying some woman claimed to be his stepmother. I rushed over immediately. I could be indifferent about everything else, but not my children. Never my children. When I arrived at the school gate, the mistress stood beside my son, smiling triumphantly at me. I walked over and stood in front of my son: “What do you think you’re doing?” The mistress crossed her arms in front of me: “Just letting your son get to know his future stepmother.” “What’s wrong with that? Ethan just isn’t divorcing you yet.” “He promised me he definitely will later.” It involved my son, and potentially the company’s reputation too. After all, this was an expensive private school. The students who attended here came from wealthy families. Several business contracts had been established through connections made via my son’s classmates. Quite a few people were already looking in our direction. I was angry: “Get lost.” Seeing me angry, the mistress backed off instead, laughing: “I never thought Ms. South could lose her temper.” “I thought you were made of paper—that nothing could make you angry.” I was somewhat provoked, and said coldly: “If you don’t leave now, I’ll have someone drag you to the hospital for an abortion.” She panicked: “You wouldn’t dare!” “Ethan won’t let you get away with it.” I raised my chin, lowering my voice threateningly: “If you don’t get lost, the media will show up here instantly and expose you.” “You tell me—what’s more important, you or the company’s reputation?” The mistress panicked. She glared at me resentfully. I knew she wouldn’t let this go, but she also wouldn’t dare act rashly. She was in it for the money. If my husband’s company ran into problems, she’d lose her meal ticket. And my husband would hate her. After the mistress left, I turned to look at my son, my expression complex. My eldest son gestured with his eyes for me to get in the car. Once in the car, he said: “We need to protect my sister. I’m afraid that bad woman will hurt her.” I nodded. I didn’t expect that at dinner that evening, he’d bring it up: “Dad, someone came to find me today and told me to call her stepmother.” My husband immediately guessed who it was, his expression uncomfortable: “She’s crazy. Ignore her. It won’t happen again.” My son nodded calmly: “Okay.” “I don’t want my sister to know.” My husband fled in embarrassment. My son and I exchanged glances without words.

Actually, I’m quite materialistic too. Because I only love money and my children, I’m emotionally stable in my marriage. I don’t care about my husband’s private life outside. But the thing is, my husband is actually a very good man. He doesn’t drink, works hard, even helps take care of the kids. And he respects me. On his office desk, he’s always kept a ceramic cat I made from clay. When we were dating, we visited a ceramics shop, and he wanted something I’d made with my own hands. So I made him a cat. A red-painted cat. The color has faded now, but it still stands firmly on his desk. My daughter loves stickers. Every time she sits in his car, she puts up a few. Even though she’s in elementary school now, if anyone touches those stickers, he gets upset. There’s also a little shoe hanging there. That little shoe, pink and crocheted from yarn. When my daughter was just a few months old, I crocheted it for her to wear for fun. Later, one went missing. He was so disappointed that he just hung it in his car as decoration. My husband is recognized as a good man. Everyone praises how lucky I am to have found such a good man. At every social event, his appearance makes people’s eyes light up. Either with jealousy or with envy. Especially recently, since he started his romance with the mistress, he’s been paying attention to his appearance. Wearing white dress shirts on top, the semi-transparent kind. Faintly revealing his newly developed abs. Tight-fitting dress pants, a belt highlighting his waistline. Red-soled leather shoes. When he walks toward me, there’s actually something seductive about it. Since he stopped loving me, he rarely initiated intimacy. I suppose this time, he felt guilty. And I wasn’t crying or making a scene, so he wanted to use another method to appease me. After an entire night of appeasement, I was indeed satisfied—the mistress had trained him well. But we were only halfway through when he was urgently called away by a phone call from the mistress. Before leaving, he looked especially guilty and uncomfortable. But I could already feel him going soft inside me. It was indeed uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t criticize him: “Go ahead. We can continue when you get back.” He felt even more guilty. Yet guilt didn’t stop his feet from moving. He still left. It seemed my husband was really invested in the mistress. He wouldn’t be coming back tonight. I kind of missed him already. Before long, the mistress sent me several photos. They were explicit images of them in the bathroom together. I replied: [You’re pregnant. Aren’t you afraid of a miscarriage doing something this intense?] She cursed at me angrily several times. I blocked her again. Actually, my husband being like this made me feel relieved. He used to be too good—so good that I’d have nightmares at night. I’d feel anxious. Anxious that a gold-digger like me had actually landed a good man. Now he’d finally cheated. The heart that had been anxious for so many years finally calmed down. Because my two current children weren’t even his.

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My wife is the most renowned genius artist of our time, but she suffers from emotional detachment disorder. When I accidentally fell down the stairs and called out to her for help, she asked me, “Why do you always bother me?” Then she stepped over my body in her high heels and left gracefully. That’s when I finally understood—a heart you can’t warm is not worth warming anymore. After she proposed divorce for the ninety-ninth time, I said, “I agree.” My wife froze for a long moment. “What did you say?” I handed her the signed divorce agreement. She stared at the papers, then looked up at me for a long time, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back. “You don’t even want our daughter?” I nodded. Right. I didn’t want any of it anymore. In the divorce agreement, I willingly gave up custody of our daughter. I had only one condition—Hannah Smith had to agree to let my mother continue receiving treatment at the hospital under the Smith family’s name. The Smith family owned the top medical team for bone cancer treatment in the country. Only there did my mother have a chance of recovery. After we got our divorce certificate, Hannah’s face remained calm and distant as always. “So what will you do now?” I knew this was just Hannah being polite. She had never truly cared about me. I gave a perfunctory answer. “Travel.” Hannah didn’t ask any more questions. Leo put his hand on Hannah’s shoulder and smiled at me. “Thanks for being willing to let Hannah go and give her freedom.” I instinctively glanced at Hannah. Facing Leo’s closeness, her expression was relaxed and natural—none of the discomfort she showed when facing me. Hannah suddenly spoke up. “Travel costs money. I’ll transfer some to you.” Her tone was still that flat, cold indifference, as if we were complete strangers. This divorce left me with essentially nothing. Hannah and I had signed a prenuptial agreement—whatever we earned after marriage would belong to each of us individually. All our expenses after marriage followed an AA system. There were no property disputes. But the key issue was that our daughter had poor health and high needs. I had quit my job long ago to stay home and take care of her full-time. If I couldn’t take on freelance work from home, I would have starved. Leo interrupted Hannah with a teasing tone. “Hannah, I’m sure he has savings. Besides, he’s a grown man—how could he have the nerve to take your money?” “Plus, the art exhibition is about to start. We need to manage our funds carefully.” As he spoke, Leo kept patting Hannah’s shoulder, his manner intimate and natural. Hannah nodded thoughtfully, looking at Leo with approval and admiration. “You’re right.” Leo seemed satisfied with this answer and smiled at me. “You better not go anywhere too remote on your travels. These past few years, quite a few solo hikers have gotten into trouble.” Hannah frowned and replied flatly, “What could happen to him?” I took a deep breath. See? That’s how little Hannah cared about me. Hannah had severe emotional detachment disorder. To put it bluntly, she lacked the capacity to love. When Hannah was young, her grandfather died. At the funeral, she showed no expression, like it had nothing to do with her. Everyone said she was a monster. I was afraid Hannah would be hurt if she heard them, so I covered her ears and comforted her. “Don’t listen to them. You’re not wrong. I know you’re sad too—you just don’t know how to express it.” But Hannah looked at me seriously and said, “Why should I be sad? Everyone dies eventually, don’t they?” I was stunned. As an eight-year-old, I couldn’t understand why Hannah would say something like that. Later, Hannah’s condition got worse. She even began self-harming and showing signs of nihilism—Hannah didn’t love anyone, including herself. But only when she saw me did Hannah’s condition improve. To save her, the Smith family made a deal with me—they would treat my mother’s bone cancer if I married Hannah. Hannah even looked at me with pleading eyes, like an injured young animal. “Don’t leave. Stay with me forever, Jasper.” I had no choice. We did have a period of affection once. During that brief time, we had our daughter. Our daughter was born with a congenital heart condition and needed constant care. Hannah couldn’t even take care of herself, so I certainly couldn’t count on her. I had no choice but to shift all my focus to our daughter, caring for her with everything I had. Without realizing it, Hannah and I grew further and further apart. Hannah was a famous genius artist online with a massive following. When her fans found out I was a stay-at-home husband, they all said I wasn’t good enough for her. [Hannah’s husband is just a useless pretty boy living off her. And he’s supposed to be some elite graduate? What a disgrace.] [How can the husband of a genius artist be such a worthless kept man?] [I heard their families go way back and arranged their marriage when they were kids. Feudal thinking ruins lives.] I asked Hannah for help, begging her to explain things to her fans. After all, nobody cared what I had to say. But Hannah was different. Yet Hannah looked at me with a strange, confused expression. “You’re so weird. Why do you care what strangers think?” “Besides, they’re not wrong. You are a stay-at-home husband.” What did I say back then? I can’t remember. I only remember feeling completely lost and on the verge of breaking down. Should I have blamed Hannah? Everyone around me kept telling me that Hannah was just sick, that she was incapable of love. As her husband, I should be understanding. I used that excuse to comfort myself countless times after that. Our daughter had poor health—even a little breeze would give her a cold and fever. I couldn’t sleep through the night, keeping watch by her bedside. Meanwhile, Hannah, her mother, never showed up once, completely absorbed in her paintings. I confronted her, asking why she didn’t care about our child. Hannah looked up at me. “Would it help if I went? I’m not a doctor.” Days of exhaustion and mental torment made my vision go dark, and I fell down the stairs. Blood pooled beneath my head in a spreading stain.

Before I completely lost consciousness, I called out to Hannah for help. She stood there, looking at me coldly. “Why do you always bother me?” Then she stepped over the pool of blood in her high heels and strode away without a care. In that moment, I truly understood for the first time what people meant when they called Hannah a monster. Hannah didn’t care whether I lived or died. But she was different with Leo, her young assistant. Around Leo, Hannah seemed to become normal. Like a wooden puppet suddenly growing flesh and blood, suddenly having warmth. At a press conference once, Hannah said, “Leo makes my withered soul grow wild with life.” “Because of him, I can feel that sunlight is warm and flowers are enchanting.” When we got home that day, I questioned her like a madman. “Hannah, do you even know what you’re doing? This is cheating!” “Jasper, you shouldn’t use the word ‘cheating’ to define my relationship with Leo.” Hannah’s expression didn’t change. As she spoke, she didn’t even lift her head once, continuing to work on her painting. The studio was filled with sketches—all portraits of Leo. Him laughing, him deep in thought, him frowning… Every stroke seemed to pour out all of Hannah’s energy and devotion. As I left in despair, Hannah called out to me. “Jasper, you’ve only ever been a passerby in my life.” “But Leo gives me a soul. He’s the wellspring of my artistic inspiration.” Suddenly, I lost all desire to argue with her. Utter exhaustion and powerlessness consumed me. I finally understood that Hannah wasn’t incapable of loving everyone. I just wasn’t the person she was willing to understand or accommodate. I thought my life was already as desperate as it could get. But then even my daughter started calling Leo “Dad.” Our daughter, just like Hannah, constantly fawned over and praised Leo. “Daddy Leo, you’re so handsome.” “I wish you were really my dad.” “I don’t want a useless father. My classmates all make fun of me.” Even my mother-in-law came to lecture me, telling me I should be grateful. “My Hannah is the best artist now. You should feel honored to be her husband.” “So what if she doesn’t love you? Love doesn’t put food on the table.” … As my memories flooded back, I turned to leave. “Goodbye, you two.” If I could help it, I never wanted to see Hannah again for the rest of my life. But someone grabbed my wrist. Hannah stared at me, her eyes full of confusion and bewilderment. “Why… why are you doing this?” “Let go.” My voice was cold. Leo glanced at me, then gently coaxed Hannah. “Hannah, could you let go first?” But Hannah acted as if she hadn’t heard him, her brow furrowed tight. When she spoke again, her expression was still innocent and clumsy. “Is this because of when you fell down the stairs? But you… you were fine, weren’t you?” I laughed bitterly. The only reason I was still standing here was pure luck. I yanked my hand back forcefully and looked at her coldly. “Get lost.” Hannah had never been treated this way by me before. She looked at me helplessly, clearly not used to it. Leo stepped forward in time to hold Hannah’s hand, saying somewhat helplessly, “Come on, calm down. Hannah doesn’t mean any harm. She just doesn’t know how to express what she’s thinking.” “Don’t keep forcing her. Hannah isn’t your property.” Hannah nodded, clearly agreeing with Leo’s words. I laughed out loud. How utterly pointless. “Goodbye, Hannah.” I waved my hand and strode away. Hannah stood frozen in place, her fingers trembling unconsciously—a sign she was nervous. Leo didn’t notice anything wrong and gripped her hand tighter. “Let’s go, my great artist.” Hannah stared at Leo in a daze. She tried to ease the discomfort in her chest. But found she couldn’t fill that hollow, lost feeling no matter what. Hannah wasn’t good at conversation and couldn’t express her thoughts precisely. To explain it in terms Hannah understood best—it was like a work she’d poured her heart and soul into had suddenly been destroyed. It made her heart skip a beat.

When people learned about our divorce, many came to talk me out of it. My usually arrogant former mother-in-law, Mrs. Smith, came to find me with her daughter. At the time, I was pulling my suitcase, preparing to leave. Mrs. Smith grabbed my suitcase, her eyes smiling. “Oh, you don’t need to move out.” “You haven’t worked in so many years. Can you even support yourself out there?” “Besides, you’ve done our Smith family a favor. If you starve to death out there, people will say we repaid kindness with cruelty.” My daughter, Riley, stood beside her, looking at me sideways and muttering, “Stingy jerk. You’re just jealous that we like Daddy Leo more.” Mrs. Smith pretended to scold Riley a few times, then turned to speak to me. “Good boy, Mom knows you’ve been wronged.” “But you know Hannah—she just doesn’t understand social niceties. But you’re the one she likes most.” Her tone was familiar and affectionate, as if nothing had ever gone wrong between me and the Smith family. I sneered. “Mrs. Smith, didn’t you always want us to divorce?” I cut straight to the point. The smile on Mrs. Smith’s face nearly cracked. She forced a dry laugh. “What are you saying? Your mother and I are such good friends. Of course I’m very satisfied with you as a son-in-law.” She looked sincere. But I only found her hypocritical. I couldn’t forget that after I fell down the stairs and was sent to the ICU, just as the operating room doors closed, I heard Mrs. Smith’s extremely cold voice: “It would be better if he died. The Smith family doesn’t need such a useless son-in-law.” In private, Mrs. Smith often told people, “Jasper doesn’t deserve my daughter at all. He’s worthless.” I looked at Mrs. Smith coldly. She must have had ulterior motives for coming to find me today. Sure enough, the next second, Mrs. Smith spoke, her tone turning cold and hard. “Hannah is at a critical point in her career. If news of your divorce gets out now, it won’t look good.” “So you can’t publicly announce the divorce yet. Can you do that?” Before I could respond, Riley pushed me. “Just agree already.” “Daddy Leo was right. You’re so selfish, always only thinking about yourself.” Riley’s words were like countless silver needles piercing my heart until it bled. I stared at her in a daze. My daughter used to cling to me the most. She would hug my leg and say over and over, “Daddy’s the best. I love Daddy most.” But she carried Hannah’s blood in her veins after all. Just like Hannah, she would immediately abandon me the moment Leo appeared. I hardened my expression. “Riley!” Riley stuck her neck out stubbornly, not thinking she was wrong at all. Just then, the door was pushed open. Hannah and Leo walked in side by side. Riley’s eyes instantly reddened as she rushed toward Leo. “Daddy Leo, I hate Jasper so much. He’s always yelling at me. Can you help me get rid of him?” Leo looked at me with disapproval in his eyes. “That’s going too far, don’t you think?” “Even if you’re Riley’s father, you can’t bully her.” “An irresponsible father like you would have custody taken away in other countries.” Hannah’s displeased gaze fell on my face. “Jasper, you’re getting more and more unreasonable.” “Go see a doctor if you’re sick.” I coldly dropped one sentence and left with my suitcase. As I got on the elevator, Leo caught up. He looked me up and down with a challenging expression. “You’re really never coming back, right, Jasper?” “Hannah’s pregnant—with my child.” I was somewhat surprised. I thought someone as proud as Hannah wouldn’t go that far. Leo’s mouth curved into a wide grin. “Hannah said she wanted to have a child with me, connected by blood.” “That’s between you two. It has nothing to do with me.” My expression didn’t change. But Leo wouldn’t let it go. He stepped closer and closer, lowering his voice. “Hannah also said that only with me does she feel alive, only with me does she understand passion.” “And you? You’re utterly boring.”

As he spoke, he backed up step by step, showing me a strange smile. Then he fell backward. The next second, a force hit me. I saw Hannah rush over like a madwoman, trying to catch Leo. But it was futile. “Bang!” Leo fell heavily down the steps. His head hit the railing, and blood gushed out. The bright red blood stung my eyes, making my whole body shudder. Not long ago, I had just experienced something exactly like this. Behind me came Riley’s wailing cry. “Daddy Leo!” “Leo, are you okay? You can’t… you can’t be hurt…” Hannah screamed desperately. She knelt helplessly in the pool of blood, gripping Leo’s hand, her voice nearly breaking. “Don’t be scared. I’ll get you to the hospital right away.” Hannah called the property management with trembling hands. When the staff arrived, several people worked together to get the unconscious Leo into the elevator. Hannah followed behind. Before getting on the elevator, she suddenly turned back, her eyes filled with hostility. “Jasper, I won’t let you get away with this.” The instant before the elevator doors fully closed, I saw Hannah press her forehead against the back of Leo’s hand. That kind of care, deep to the bone, was something I had never received in the nearly thirty years Hannah and I had known each other. Riley rushed over, hitting me repeatedly and glaring at me viciously. “You should just die! You hurt Daddy Leo. I never want to call you Dad again.” Hannah’s revenge came quickly. That evening, I received news from the hospital—my mother was about to be kicked out. “Mr. Reed, you have to understand that this hospital answers to the Smith family. We have no choice.” “Maybe you could ask Miss Smith? After all, you’re husband and wife…” The hand holding my phone was shaking. My mother’s condition had been well controlled. Victory had been within reach. Transferring hospitals now would undo all our progress. And my mother’s body couldn’t handle that kind of upheaval. Just to be safe, I quickly contacted other hospitals. But without exception, not a single hospital was willing to accept her. Either they feared the Smith family’s influence or thought my mother’s condition was too severe… I had no choice but to beg Hannah. In the hospital corridor, Hannah leaned against the wall, her demeanor growing colder. “You want to beg me to save your mother?” “Yes. According to the divorce agreement, you should let my mother continue treatment at the Smith family hospital until she recovers.” My voice was tight. Hannah sneered but didn’t respond. I took a deep breath and explained, almost humbly, “Leo wasn’t pushed by me. You can check the surveillance. He did it himself…” I was becoming incoherent. Hannah walked toward me in her high heels, step by step, her tone utterly cold. “Does it matter?” “What?” “Does the truth matter?” Hannah’s expression was haughty, carrying the air of a judge passing down sentence. “Either way, Leo fell down the stairs because of you.” I stared at Hannah in shock, the last thread in my mind snapping. I broke down and shouted, “That’s a human life, Hannah! Are you really going to watch my mother die?” “Using your mother’s life to pay for Leo’s injuries seems pretty fair to me.” A nearly cruel smile rose in Hannah’s eyes. I had no choice but to fall to my knees and kowtow to Hannah. “Please, please spare my mother. I’ll use my life to atone if I have to. I’m willing to die…” Hannah’s expression didn’t soften in the slightest. She looked at me like I was insane. “Jasper, you really look like a dog begging for scraps right now.” Right after Hannah left, I got a call from the caregiver. “Mr. Reed, I’m sorry for your loss. Your mother has passed away.” “The hospital was completely unreasonable. They just pulled the plug on her ventilator…” Boom— My world plunged into complete darkness. I handled my mother’s funeral simply, then carried her ashes to the seaside… Meanwhile, Hannah was at the hospital keeping Leo company. Leo looked at her, clearly preoccupied, and suddenly asked, “Are you worried about Jasper?” Hannah shook her head. Leo lay in the hospital bed, gently taking Hannah’s hand and speaking persuasively, “Trust me, nothing will happen.” “That serious illness was just Jasper’s act. His mother’s illness was cured long ago.” Hannah murmured in agreement. But her heart was still anxious. Until Mrs. Smith burst into the room, looking panicked. “Quick, quick, you need to issue a statement saying Jasper’s death has nothing to do with you.”

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I am the child of a mistress. The year I turned seventeen, my biological father died. At his funeral, wearing my school uniform, I stood before a room full of business magnates, brilliant young scientists, and A-list actresses, trembling as I said: “I… I’m here to fight for my inheritance…” Before I could finish, the legitimate children all stared at me. I burst into tears from fear. “If… if you don’t want to give me any, that’s fine too…” The actress’s eyes lit up: “A little sister? A soft, squishy little sister?” The scientist spread out paper and pen: “A high school senior? Come here and solve this calculus problem so I can see where you’re at.” The billionaire pulled out a black card: “What’s there to want from the old man’s measly savings? Call me ‘brother’, and I’ll give you ten times as much.” 1 My mother was a high-level manipulator, a “canary” kept by a rich man. Originally, the deal was simple: the sugar daddy provided the money, she provided her looks, a fair exchange with no strings attached. But when you live the good life for too long, greed easily takes root. She got pregnant, and relying on her pregnant belly, she staged a classic “canary runs away with the baby” trope. Before running away, she broadcasted her address all over her social media. Terrified that people wouldn’t be able to find her. She fantasized that her sugar daddy would lock down the entire city just for her, embarking on a domineering pursuit of love. That his wife would break down from an inferiority complex and willingly step aside. Unfortunately. She played herself. The sugar daddy didn’t even bother looking. He didn’t want her, or the baby. How could she accept this? Heavily pregnant and nearing her due date, she blocked the entrance to the sugar daddy’s mansion. Two bodyguards dragged her out and threw her by the garbage dump. They also passed on a message from the sugar daddy’s wife: “If you have the capability to take my husband, go ahead. Give birth to the child and give it to me to raise. Money? You won’t get a single cent!” After her relentless pestering proved fruitless, she finally gave up. But it was too late for an abortion. Harboring resentment, she gave birth to me and raised me haphazardly. Not out of love, but for money. The sentence she said to me the most was: “You are his seed, does he get to just say he won’t give us anything and that’s it?” “Dream on! Even if he dies, you’re entitled to a share of his estate!” And so, as she wished, the year I turned seventeen, my biological father kicked the bucket. Upon hearing the news, she swiftly dumped me at the funeral home. “Chloe Smith, remember this! Including you, your dad only has four kids! You get a quarter of his estate!” “Today is your last chance. If you don’t get the money, don’t bother coming back to see me!” Her contorted features terrified me. “Mom, don’t leave me here, I’m scared…” “Scared, scared, all you know is being scared. What did I raise you for? To make money!” “For over a decade, you’ve eaten my food, used my things, and delayed me finding a new man. Shouldn’t you compensate me?” “Get that inheritance, give it to me, and after that, I’ll still be your mom!” She walked a few quick steps, then suddenly stopped. She turned back, rummaged through my pockets, and took away the only ten dollars I had. I was stunned. Without money, I couldn’t take the bus. This funeral home was halfway up a mountain. Relying on my own two legs, I wouldn’t be able to walk back even by nightfall. She shoved me hard: “Only by cutting off your retreat will you work hard!” “If you get the money, you can take a taxi back. If you don’t…” She casually pointed to the surrounding mountains. “This whole area is a graveyard. You can just stay here and keep the ghosts company!” 2 The cold wind in the mountains blew, sending shivers down my spine. It felt like every little mound of earth in the deep mountains had eyes staring at me. I braced myself and walked into the funeral home. The funeral service had ended, and the guests were all gone. The room was empty except for the sugar daddy’s three legitimate children, discussing the final wrap-up with the lawyer. “According to Mr. Vance’s dying wishes, his estate, totaling two hundred million, will be divided equally among the three of you.” Two hundred million! So much money! No wonder my mom was so crazy. Jumping up and down for over a decade just to get a piece of the pie. And what I had to do today was try to get a quarter of that two hundred million. Fifty million! My palms were sweating with nervousness. With so much money, who would be willing to let a mistress’s child take it away? It looked like I was definitely going to get a beating. I just hoped they’d go easy on me when they hit me. I have an exam tomorrow, and I still need my hands to write… While I was thinking this, the division of assets over there had already begun. Sitting at the head of the table was the eldest sister, Mia Vance, a wildly popular A-list actress who had just swept the top domestic film awards. A simple black dress couldn’t hide her breathtaking beauty. Her soft, slender fingers took the document, glanced at it, and casually tossed it to the second brother. “Just this? Is it even worth wasting my time?” The second brother, Ethan Vance, dressed in black and white, wore silver-rimmed glasses that added a touch of maturity to his delicate, baby face. He kept typing on his laptop, not even looking at the piece of paper worth two hundred million. “Money is useless to me.” I had heard of him, the most brilliant young scientist in the country, a trailblazer in cutting-edge tech. It was true he didn’t need money; everything he needed was provided by the state. That piece of paper fluttered into the hands of the third brother, Liam Vance. He pinched it with his prominent knuckles, then casually tore it to shreds. “Two hundred million is worth a will? Just donate it.” Liam carried an aura of casual ruthlessness. For him, a regular on the Forbes rich list, two hundred million wasn’t worth his time. The eldest sister and second brother raised their eyebrows, neither having any objections. Seeing that the lawyer was about to draft a donation agreement instead, I weakly raised my hand. “Um… excuse me…” As soon as I spoke, the three legitimate children and the top lawyer—four pairs of eyes—all stared straight at me. My scalp tingled. The lawyer asked: “May I ask what business you have here?” I swallowed hard, speaking carefully: “I’m sorry, I… I’m here to fight for my inheritance…” 3 By the time I came back to my senses, I was already surrounded. The three legitimate siblings were tall, strikingly attractive, and possessed extraordinary auras. Compared to them, in my school uniform, I looked like a scrawny bean sprout in the corner. I was on the verge of crying from fear. Even though they didn’t treat money like money, it didn’t mean they were willing to throw it at a mistress! I shivered: “If… if you don’t want to give me any, that’s fine too…” Could you just lend me two dollars… So I can take the bus? I sneakily glanced up, terrified by their overwhelming presence, my whole body trembling. Forget it, forget it, it’s only a twenty-mile mountain road. Walking is fine too… I quietly shuffled toward the exit. I had barely taken a few steps when Mia grabbed the collar of my shirt and hauled me back. “Tsk, too light. She’s all bones.” Mia inspected me from top to bottom, her beautiful face full of disgust. “First, gain twenty pounds. She needs some meat on her bones to be healthy.” “Her hair is dry and has split ends, needs treatment. Her face is sunburned, needs repairing.” “Her uniform is frayed, her shoes don’t fit, the zipper on her backpack is broken.” “Change, change, change, everything must be changed!” She pulled out her phone and called her stylist: “Height 5’3″, weight 88 lbs. Prepare a full outfit from head to toe.” “Who is it for?” Mia’s tone became light and cheerful: “For my little sister, of course!” 4 I felt terribly awkward and uneasy: “Do… do you know who I am?” Mia threw an arm around my waist, her aloof face animated with excitement: “I know, the old man’s illegitimate daughter, right~” She pointed at her brilliant scientist brother and her billionaire brother, complaining to me: “Ethan here has been a prodigy since childhood. Memorized vocabulary at three, did advanced math at five. Take him out to play, and within five minutes he’s pulling out test papers to solve problems. Boring as hell!” “Liam is shrewd and cunning, full of schemes from head to toe. Started digging traps for me as soon as he could talk, and researching how to charter racing teams as soon as he could go out. Completely immune to being cute!” “Being the eldest sister is just an empty title, I have zero real authority.” “Now that I’ve finally caught a normal human sister, I don’t care about anything else, let me just enjoy the thrill of being a big sister first!” Mia said this while opening her makeup bag, getting ready to wash my face and do skincare. Ethan pushed her aside with his hip. He pulled out a pen and paper, an excited gleam shining from behind his silver glasses. “Little sister is a senior in high school? How are your grades?” “Come, solve this calculus problem first so I can see where you’re at!” Looking at the block of English letters on the paper, I went numb. “I… I don’t know how…” I’m a senior in high school, not a senior in college. Who learns calculus in high school? Ethan scratched his head in confusion: “That shouldn’t be. Even the dumbest person should have figured it out by seventeen, right?” Liam sneered, shoved him aside, and leaned in close to me. “You said you were here to fight for your inheritance?” That one sentence brought us back to the main topic. I looked at Liam nervously. This is it, this is it, finally time to talk about money and get beaten up, right? Liam pulled out a black card, his sharp features softening. “How much could the old man possibly have? Be a good girl, call me ‘brother’, and I’ll give you ten times as much.” Their enthusiasm made me feel a bit uneasy. This was completely different from what my mom had told me. Before I came, she repeatedly instructed me: “The richer people are, the stingier they are! If they don’t give it to you, just throw a tantrum on the floor!” “Getting beaten is even better! The harder they hit, the more money you can demand!” She said the Vance family were our sworn enemies. But the way these “enemies” looked at me… was a little warm? 5 I kept feeling like they were playing a simulation game with me. Like right now. I was brought back to the Vance family’s old mansion. Mia canceled all her recent schedules and hovered around me all day. On the first day home, she ordered a truckload of beef, lamb, fish, and seafood, and exquisite dishes were served one after another. I was overwhelmed by the favor. To not waste food, I kept my head down and ate until I was ready to throw up. Mia was shocked. She stopped me: “You’re going to make yourself sick like this.” “We made all these dishes just to see what you like. You don’t have to eat what you don’t like.” I was a bit confused. Did she mean I was allowed to be a picky eater? But my mom said being a picky eater was bad. When I was three, she brought back some leftover spicy stir-fried pork. I took one bite and cried from the spice, pushing it away with tears in my eyes. She got angry, grabbed me, and hit me: “So young and already picky? Want to eat well? Do you have the destiny for that?” But it was really too spicy, it hurt my mouth just eating it. I cried and only ate plain rice, staying far away from that dish. But she still wasn’t satisfied with that. She said I was being dramatic and that this bad habit must be broken. That plate of spicy pork was saved for the next meal if I didn’t eat it, and saved for three days if I didn’t eat it for two. I couldn’t eat new food until I finished it. I starved for three whole days and finally, crying, choked down that spoiled spicy pork. That night, I ran a high fever. After the fever broke, she stood next to me and lectured: “Being picky is bad. Mom is teaching you this for your own good, do you remember?” I remembered. So facing a table full of food, I ate with all my might. Hoping to finish it before it went bad. Preferences? Favorites? There were none. I had no right to be picky. Mia couldn’t stand watching anymore. She snatched my chopsticks, softened her tone, and said: “Chloe, don’t be afraid. You’re still a child, you can eat only what you like.” A wave of grievance suddenly welled up inside me. It felt like my three-year-old self, forced to eat chili peppers, was being hugged, a gentle voice comforting me: Did the peppers hurt your mouth? Be a good girl, we won’t eat it, we’ll eat something else! I gathered my courage and said in a low voice: “I… I can’t eat spicy food…” With a wave of Mia’s hand, several maids stepped forward and quickly removed all the dishes with chili peppers. And that wasn’t all. From that day on, I never saw another chili pepper on the dining table. So this is what it feels like to be favored. One sentence of “I don’t like it” could make that thing disappear from my world entirely. Under her meticulous care, I quickly filled out, gaining healthy weight like a balloon. My hair also visibly became dark and shiny. She was very satisfied, constantly showing off her results to her two younger brothers. 6 Not to be outdone, after doing a comprehensive assessment of all my subjects, Ethan was shocked that my grades were so abysmal. I’m already a senior in high school! I don’t understand Fourier transforms in math, I know nothing of quantum mechanics in physics, and I’m clueless about supramolecular chemistry. Tsk! How could someone be this dumb! He stopped going to his lab, took me to my high school to request a long leave of absence, and planned to personally create a customized tutoring curriculum for me. His car stopped at the school gate, attracting a massive amount of attention. Even though it was the most low-profile car the Vance family owned, it was still the most eye-catching presence on the street. He opened the door and carefully shielded my head from the frame. Just as I stepped out, I ran into my classmates. “Oh~ isn’t this ‘Mistress’ Chloe? Haven’t seen you for a few days, hooked a rich guy?” “What’s so surprising about that? A mistress’s daughter naturally becomes a mistress, it’s perfectly logical!” The group of them burst into loud laughter. My face burned hotly, and I opened my mouth to defend myself: “No, he’s my brother!” Isabella retorted rudely: “Oh, please! Who doesn’t know your mistress mom only had you? You’re so shameless, claiming relatives out of thin air!” “Hey big bro, you might want to stay away from Chloe, or her mom will latch onto you and fleece you alive!” The classmates nodded in agreement. Actually, they weren’t like this at first. Even though they knew I was an illegitimate child, they didn’t discriminate against me. Isabella, seeing my tattered clothes, even begged her mom to give me her old clothes to wear. We became good friends. But the good times didn’t last. One weekend, I went home happily wearing a red dress Isabella gave me. My mom grabbed the dress like a madwoman and interrogated me: “Who bought this for you?” I trembled as I explained that a classmate gave it to me. She launched into a frenzied tirade: “Are you that desperate? Accepting any piece of trash?” “Do you have any taste? You are a Miss of the Vance family! Not a beggar begging on the street!” She took scissors and cut the red dress into shreds. My heart ached terribly. I’d rather be a beggar on the street! At least beggars don’t have crazy mothers like mine! She dragged me to the school, caused a huge scene, and insisted Isabella was bullying me and insulting me with old clothes. I tried hard to defend Isabella, but she wouldn’t listen at all. She threw a tantrum in front of the school administration, demanding Isabella’s parents pay me compensation for emotional distress. Out of options, the school administration made Isabella apologize to me face-to-face. The way Isabella looked at me changed. From that day on, all my classmates knew that not only was I an illegitimate child, but I also had a greedy, money-grubbing mistress mother. They gave me the nickname “Mistress,” and no one ever wanted to speak to me again. Ethan patted my shoulder and stood in front of me: “Isabella? I’ve heard of you, the girl who helped our Chloe before. Thank you!” Isabella was dumbfounded, blushing and stammering: “I-I-I spoke to Chloe like that, wh-wh-why are you thanking me?” Ethan started to laugh, making him even more approachable. At this moment, the homeroom teacher arrived after hearing the news. He hurriedly invited him into the classroom and proudly introduced him: “Ethan Vance, the valedictorian of the city’s high school entrance exam, national champion in physics and chemistry olympiads, and a genius from Capitol University’s gifted youth program!” 7 Gasps erupted throughout the classroom. Among the students in the city, who didn’t know Ethan’s famous name? He was practically the synonym for a study god! Oh my god, a god-like figure like this is Chloe’s biological brother? The classmates secretly observed me, their previous disdain replaced entirely by surprise and envy. I quietly straightened my back. Having a brother like this, I’m really awesome! Upon learning that Ethan took a leave of absence for me to personally tutor me, the classmates couldn’t sit still anymore. One by one, they came up to add me as a friend and pull me into group chats. “Chloe, could you share some study materials?” “Chloe, can I study with you when you’re free?” “Chloe, my house is nearby, come over sometime~” “Chloe…” I was overwhelmed by the sudden attention, but I also knew it was all directed at Ethan. I asked for his opinion. He ruffled the hair on top of my head and said: “Why so cautious? Being an older brother means letting your little sister boss you around!” The satisfaction in my heart was about to overflow. In this class where I had spent over two years. After being pitied, humiliated, and isolated, this was the first time I truly integrated with my classmates. 8 If Mia was nourishing my body, and Ethan was nurturing my grades. Then Liam was much more straightforward and crude—he was fattening my wallet. After getting me a custom-made, pink “Princess” card, his performance began. First, he took me to the biggest mall in the city. Those stores I usually only dared to peek at through the glass were cleared out just for me. He sat on the sofa: “Pick whatever you want~” I recognized these brands. They were the things my mom dreamed of, the things she could only look at repeatedly in magazines. “Once you get the old man’s inheritance, I’ll buy all these new collections!” “My bags, my jewelry, my clothes, they will all be mine!” She had also possessed these things once. During the years she was a kept woman, my biological father was very generous to her. But she was never satisfied. Given regular leather, she wanted exotic skin; given silver hardware, she wanted diamond-encrusted. Eventually, she even thought about kicking out the lawful wife to take the position herself, having a child to abuse the legitimate heirs. Unfortunately, she gambled away her good life. The bags and jewelry she had accumulated were also gradually sold off and the money spent. I sneaked a peek at Liam, who was sitting on the sofa controlling the entire scene, and then looked at myself. There was no comparison at all. “What are you spacing out for? Pick.” I shook my head: “Third Brother, there’s no need. I’ve already troubled you guys enough.” Liam frowned slightly and lectured me: “A girl shouldn’t be so petty. Today, I’m going to teach you a lesson.” Anything I glanced at for more than a second was immediately wrapped up. Bags, watches, bracelets, haute couture—it was blinding. By the time we left, a whole bunch of sales associates behind us had their arms full. When he swiped the card, the price was longer than my lifespan. I jumped anxiously: “Third Brother, I’m still in school, I don’t need any of these things at all.” Liam said carelessly: “Oh, can’t use them, right? Let’s go, we’ll go sell them.” He turned around and took me to the nearest luxury consignment store. Without even opening the packaging, he threw everything on the counter: “Don’t want it anymore, calculate the total.” The sales associate was only stunned for a second before her fingers flew across the calculator in a blur. After the final tally, in and out, in just half a day, we lost six million dollars. My heart ached so much my jaw almost dropped. Seeing me like this, Liam smiled slightly: “Don’t feel bad, all the shops on this street are mine.” I shook my head. That’s not how accounting works! One thing is one thing. Even if it’s the family business, this six million was a real, tangible loss. Liam raised an eyebrow: “Don’t rush~” A few minutes later, over a dozen reporters rushed in with their cameras and microphones. Liam shielded my face, letting the reporters take photos. In less than half an hour, the reports were out and quickly climbed the trending charts. [Vance Group CEO Spends Millions on Mysterious Woman] A few minutes later, several related trending topics popped up: [Filthy Rich! Why is the Vance Family So Wealthy?] [Deep Dive into the Wealthy Vance Family: Assets Include…] [The Legendary Business Journey of Liam Vance, Head of the Vance Family] Liam opened the stock page to show me. Half an hour after the news broke, the Vance Group’s stock hit its daily limit up. With this single move, their market value saw a net increase of many hundreds of millions. He played with his phone, sitting in the car, and said to me: “Although this saying is vulgar, it’s common sense.” “The best way to demystify something is to own it. Your mom wants money but can’t wait, forcing you to fight and snatch it, which easily gives you a misguided desire for money.” “The best way to correct this is to spend money, making you the master of money, not its slave.” He waved his phone, adding: “Ultimately, you must become the invisible hand that manipulates money.” In a very good mood, he transferred money to my Princess card, saying it was pocket money and telling me to spend it however I liked. Looking at the balance on it, I felt a bit like I was in another lifetime. I don’t know if I got my dad’s inheritance or not, but anyway, my pocket money was already over five hundred million.

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On my first day back, I ran into a man in my father’s study. My father said he was someone our whole family needed to suck up to, holding enough resources to decide our family’s life or death. But I recognized him. When I was studying abroad, I had locked him in my room. And toyed with him for six whole months. 1 On the day after my father’s birthday, I timed my return carefully. I knew they didn’t want me appearing at the birthday banquet, so I simply stayed away to avoid being a nuisance. An unfamiliar car was parked in the villa’s courtyard, a place where vehicles were usually forbidden. Its aggressive parking job had crushed several of my dad’s most prized orchids. The inside of the villa was unusually quiet. The maids stood silently at attention, looking like they were preparing for battle. “Do we have a guest?” I asked. “Yes, so Miss, you’d better hurry back to your room,” said Mrs. Hughes, the most senior maid. Too lazy to argue about their attitude toward me, I lifted my foot to head upstairs to my room, but was suddenly yanked back by my suitcase. It was Olivia Vance, who had sprung out from nowhere. “Sister, I played a piano piece in front of everyone at Dad’s birthday banquet yesterday, and all the maestros present praised me. Good thing you didn’t come back, otherwise, what could you have possibly contributed?” She crossed her arms and looked me up and down. “Two years studying abroad, and your taste is still this trashy.” “Sister, you’re really an embarrassment to the Vance family.” I yanked my suitcase back and looked at her coldly: “Are you done?” “No matter what I’m like, it’s Vance blood running in my veins. But you, constantly emphasizing those things you can do, is nothing more than making excuses for your own insecurities.” I shook her off, picked up my suitcase, and headed upstairs. Just as I was about to step onto the final landing, I heard Olivia’s rapid footsteps behind me. She suddenly rushed up, grabbed my arm, and yelled: “Sister! If you’re mad at me, just take it out on me! How could you barge in and ruin Dad’s business!” “I already explained it to you! It’s not that Dad didn’t want to see you, he has important business in the study!” The urgency in her voice, the anxiety on her face—the Oscars owed her a golden statue. Funnily enough, amidst the roaring of this runaway Best Actress, my dad’s study door happened to open. He took in the entire dispute between Olivia and me. Wearing a formal suit, he glared at me viciously. Then, his face broke into an obsequious smile as he turned toward the man who had just emerged from the study. My dad’s furious glare hadn’t scared me. However, when I saw the other man, a mixed-race man in a black trench coat, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. He slowly lifted his eyes, sharp as a falcon’s. And locked eyes with me, standing on the spiral staircase. 2 It was during my second year studying abroad in Melbourne that I picked up a man off the street. More accurately, I was forced to pick him up. In the darkness, I couldn’t see what kind of injuries he had, I could only feel the cold, hard barrel of a gun pressed against my waist. Lightning split the sky, casting an even sharper, colder light in his eyes. “Shut up and take me to a safe place, now!” I stared at him fixedly, not moving. He didn’t know that going out on a stormy night like this, I was originally looking to die. But I still took him back to my place. It wasn’t the gun against my waist that scared me, but his face, illuminated for a split second by the lightning. He was truly an unparalleled, exotic beauty. That was my only thought. Having wandered around for so long, I had seen my fair share of top-tier handsome men. But this was the first time I had seen someone with such aggressive, wild sex appeal. The more dangerous, the more captivating. Since I was going to die anyway, why shouldn’t I enjoy the eye candy heaven sent me? He was very alert. When I bandaged him, I could feel the tense muscles underneath, like an agile panther ready to spring and attack at any moment. His tan abs were sharply defined. When I placed my hand on them, he opened his eyes almost instantly. Like the alpha wolf in a pack, glinting with ferocity. But he still needed my help, so he temporarily forgave my intrusive touch. “Bandaging is done…” Halfway through my sentence, I remembered he didn’t understand Chinese. My spoken English was terrible. After I stuttered out a few words, he finally spoke, unable to bear it any longer: “Speak Chinese.” He actually understood Chinese? Without time to ponder, I continued: “Bandaging is done, but there’s not enough medicine for the next change. I’ll go buy some tomorrow.” He gave a slight nod, but didn’t put away the gun in his hand: “When you go out tomorrow, don’t draw attention.” Saying that, he pressed the gun forward threateningly. The next day, while buying medicine, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I was clearly the one who saved him, yet I ended up being viciously threatened by him. At the time, I was at the absolute rock bottom of my life, having been abandoned for the third time. The anger rising from my heart, combined with lusting after his looks, made me do the most insane thing I’ve ever done in my life— I locked up this highly dangerous man. I wanted to tame a wild beast. I find it hard to imagine now why I had so much guts back then. I can only explain it as being fueled by a massive adrenaline rush. So much so that when I mixed a sedative with his wound medicine and applied it to his injuries, my hands didn’t even tremble. Otherwise, given his sharpness, my neck would have been snapped right then and there. Perhaps he never imagined that an ordinary international student he bumped into on the street would have the audacity to lock him up. So when he woke up three hours later and saw the chains on his wrists, his first words were: “Who sent you?” And it took him a whole week to accept the fact that I truly wasn’t acting on anyone’s orders, but was purely insane and lusting after his body. He never expected that after riding the wind and waves, seeing all kinds of schemes, tricks, and monsters, he would end up being sexually assaulted by a little girl in a cramped, poor alleyway. If word got out, he’d be too ashamed to show his face anywhere. I never knew his name. I only saw the letters “Mu” on a bloodstained business card when I changed his clothes. So, I called him “Mu.” He never objected to it. That’s right, not only did I lock him up, but I also changed his clothes and took the opportunity to grope him. To be honest, on the second day after locking him up, I regretted it. The adrenaline rush was over, leaving me with a massive mess. Everyone has moments when they don’t want to live, and then they go crazy. Now the crazy phase was over, I was sober, and there was no crying over spilled milk. I could only bite the bullet and ride out my mistake. If I let him go now, he would definitely kill me; if he escaped later, he would definitely kill me too. Since I was going to die either way, I might as well take some liberties first. After all, dying under a peony flower makes even a ghost flirtatious. Ever since he found out I wasn’t an assassin sent by his enemies, his attitude became very subtle. For the first few days, he would darkly remind me that when he got out, he would flay me alive and make me die a thousand deaths. After I gagged him with a cucumber, he visibly wanted to kill me even more. But after realizing I was purely lustful, every time I changed his clothes, he would lean there, eyes narrowed, following my movements, his gaze roaming over me. Like a large carnivore assessing the prey it was about to hunt. Dissatisfied with his gaze, I lifted his tank top and rubbed him all over. I wanted him to know that right now, I was the master of this body. But the moment he moved his leg, I fell onto him in a very undignified posture. I bristled and bit him right on the neck. 3 As you can see, our past interactions were… not exactly friendly. So much so that seeing him again today, my first thought was— Run. Run away fast. That damn Olivia Vance, she just had to grab me at this exact moment. “Sister, are you leaving as soon as you get back? Mom and Dad will be sad.” “If you cause trouble, you have to admit your mistakes. Mom and Dad taught me since I was little that as a daughter of the Vance family, you have to take responsibility.” After trying to put me down with her fake-sweet act, she turned back to my dad and Mr. Mu: “Mr. Mu, my sister was a bit reckless with her management, but she absolutely didn’t mean it. I apologize to you on her behalf.” Olivia smiled sweetly, but he didn’t even spare her a glance, saying calmly: “Apologize for her?” “Who do you think you are?” I really wanted to live without manners for once, just like Mr. Mu. It feels so good. Olivia choked instantly. My dad smiled apologetically from the side: “My daughter has been living abroad year-round, without anyone to teach her properly. She doesn’t understand etiquette and has a cowardly personality. If she offended you, it’s my fault for not raising her right.” Mr. Mu remained unappreciative: “Yesterday at his birthday banquet, Mr. Vance was introducing his beloved daughter everywhere. When did he suddenly get another daughter?” That one sentence made my dad’s old face flush red. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. But before I could hide my grinning teeth, Mr. Mu shifted his gaze to me again: “Cowardly personality?” “Mr. Vance probably knows absolutely nothing about his own daughter.” I only just realized that aside from his combat skills, Mr. Mu’s verbal sparring was also top-tier. In two minutes, he scolded all three of us. The three of us were completely dominated by him, none daring to speak. Until Mr. Mu dropped his gaze onto me again: “Since you say she offended me, then let her see me out.” My dad hurriedly said: “Yes, yes, yes, Chloe, go see him out…” Before he could finish, I interrupted him directly: “I don’t understand etiquette, so I won’t see you out.” Then I grabbed my suitcase and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. Back in my room, I leaned against the door, double-checking that it was locked before letting out a long breath. As tough as I acted just now, that’s how guilty I felt inside. Sure enough, people shouldn’t do bad things. Even if you do just one, it will come knocking on your door. I originally thought we were separated by mountains and rivers and would never see each other again. I never expected him to suddenly appear at my doorstep and become my dad’s company’s biggest client. A man with money and power, accustomed to being above everyone else, catching the culprit who kicked him while he was down and locked him up to play with—what would he do? I shuddered just thinking about it. Be alone with him? Even if you lent me ten guts right now, I wouldn’t dare. After living in fear for a few days, Mr. Mu still didn’t come looking for trouble. I deceptively let my guard down, becoming less vigilant. Tonight, Richard Vance asked me out to eat. The message Mrs. Hughes brought me was that it was a welcome-home dinner. I didn’t believe it for a second. Sure enough, as soon as we sat down, my mom, who hadn’t shown her face for days, scolded me. “You didn’t even come back for your dad’s birthday. Are you really that busy?” I moved my chair a bit further away: “But didn’t you guys also not want me to appear at the birthday banquet?” My mom choked on my words, turning pale: “Who said that.” I didn’t reply, just stared at her fixedly until she guiltily averted her gaze. Mom, I’m in my twenties, not a few years old. I’ve been able to read your emotions and attitudes for a long time. I got lost when I was four and was separated from them for twenty years. When I found them, I was more excited than anyone. They were probably like that at first too. Until they discovered that the university I attended was very ordinary, that I didn’t speak several foreign languages, and that I possessed no special talents. My value in their hearts plummeted. Knowing nothing about art exhibitions, unable to play the piano, not recognizing designer brands—this daughter, reunited after twenty years, gradually became the “poor relative” they couldn’t present in public. In contrast, Olivia, the adopted daughter they took in for comfort after I went missing, was the perfect high-society lady in their hearts. So they didn’t want me appearing too much. It was best if everyone didn’t know that the Vance family had a mud-covered sparrow. Olivia, acting like she was giving earnest advice, was actually fanning the flames: “Sister, no matter what, Mom and Dad are our closest blood relatives. You can’t ruin Dad’s business just because you’re holding a grudge.” ??? What a massive blame to shoulder. Reminded by Olivia, my mom reprimanded me: “Mr. Mu is our family’s biggest client. If you offend him, are we all supposed to starve?” “What kind of nonsense were you spouting at the study door that day? He’ll be here in a bit, apologize to him properly.” Wait, wait?! He’s, coming, here? I abruptly stood up: “Who did you say is coming?” “Mr. Mu?!” I stood up and ran toward the door. At that exact moment, the room door opened, and I almost slammed headfirst into the doorframe. Dodging backward hastily, I lost my center of gravity and fell backward. I was grabbed by the incoming person and yanked close. The person in front of me, like a demon from hell, smiled at me: “Don’t be in such a hurry, Chlo-e.” He recognized me. 4 The meal was agonizing; I didn’t dare lift my head the entire time. I didn’t hear a word of the pleasantries between my parents and Mr. Mu, until Mr. Mu suddenly spoke: “Miss Vance looks very much like an old acquaintance of mine.” My dad, hearing this, immediately became interested. This was a rare opportunity to bridge the gap. He hurriedly asked: “Is it a friend of yours?” Mr. Mu stared at me, a chilling smile on his face: “No, an enemy.” He twisted the thumb ring on his hand, the ruby set in the snake’s eye flashing an eerie light: “An enemy whose every bone I’ll crush if I ever see her again.” With a splat, the food in my hand dropped to the floor. Mr. Mu naturally picked up a fork, got a new piece, and placed it steadily in my bowl: “Just a joke, don’t be scared, Miss Vance.” My dad immediately smoothed things over: “Mr. Mu is truly humorous.” Olivia also chimed in at the right moment: “Mr. Mu, let me pour you some wine.” “This is an 18-year-old Triple Cask. I wonder if it suits your taste?” She watched Mr. Mu take a sip and said casually: “Dad said Mr. Mu might prefer the classic Double Cask, but I think the Triple Cask has a smoother texture and a richer finish. The distinct floral aftertaste is also more fitting for your collaboration with my dad this time.” Here she goes again. Olivia’s favorite thing to do is to show off her extensive knowledge of cigars, art exhibitions, wine, luxury brands, and so on in front of me. Mr. Mu’s large hand played with the wine glass, the golden liquid swaying slightly inside: “Mr. Vance’s daughter certainly knows her wine.” My dad laughed: “Not all of them. My youngest daughter is smart and sensitive, and likes these things. My eldest daughter is dull and completely clueless. It’s embarrassing.” “What a coincidence,” Mr. Mu gently set down the wine glass, a few drops of liquid splashing out: “I am also completely clueless.” As soon as he spoke, the father and daughter, who were naturally chatting and laughing just a moment ago, instantly became awkward. My eyes widened slightly. How could he be completely clueless. Back then, he clearly… I looked at him in shock, only to meet his teasing gaze. Is this… deliberately backing me up? Before I could finish being moved, as the banquet was ending, Mr. Mu spoke again: “Mr. Vance, your daughter looks so much like my enemy. I wonder if Mr. Vance would mind lending her to me to vent my anger?” ??? Is that something a human would say? My dad was also stunned for a moment, then braced himself and said: “Mr. Mu is joking again.” Mr. Mu laughed “Haha”, but his eyes swept over me: “Indeed, Mr. Vance saw right through me.” 5 I couldn’t stay here any longer. If Richard Vance went back, weighed the pros and cons, and actually sent me over to win Mr. Mu’s favor, I’d die even faster. Rather than staying here and being slowly boiled alive by Mr. Mu, waiting for the Sword of Damocles to drop, it was better to run away quickly. Luckily, I had just returned and most of my things hadn’t been unpacked, making it easy to pack up. If I can’t afford to provoke him, I can at least hide. No matter how many eyes and ears Mr. Mu has, he wouldn’t expect me to be so decisive and run away immediately. —Or so I thought. Just as I sneaked out of the villa, that familiar Cadillac stopped right in front of me. The window rolled down, and the person in the back seat took off his sunglasses and smiled at me: “We meet again, Chloe.” I turned and ran. Did he think I would surrender without a fight? In his dreams! Until I heard a familiar click-clack sound. The sound of a bullet being chambered. I stopped in my tracks in disbelief. We are in China, and he dares to carry a gun? “Chloe, take one more step, and guess whether I’ll shoot your leg or your foot first?” A smart woman knows when to yield. I braced myself and got into the car. I curled up in the back seat, my hands loosely tied by Mr. Mu with a necktie. It was less of a restraint and more of a tease. The streetlights outside the window flashed by rapidly, reflecting on his cold, sharp profile. Those dark brown eyes gleamed in the darkness, looking very much like a beast before a hunt, carrying a hint of danger. What made my eyes burn even more was the gun-shaped lighter he was playing with in his hand. Every time he pressed it, it made a click-clack sound like chambering a round, followed by a flame shooting up. I should have had faith in our motherland’s security. How could I fall for this bastard’s trick. Facing my indignant glare, he smiled mockingly: “A little handicraft, do you like it?” Like your a##… I cursed inwardly. Mr. Mu suddenly pinched my face: “Yes, exactly that look.” “The last time I saw a look of such unyielding defiance, it was that traitor who assassinated me and was caught by me again.” “I personally crushed over forty of his bones.” I blinked rapidly, trying my best to make my eyes look innocent. The car drove into a luxurious villa, and the iron gates slowly closed behind us with a dull thud. My heartbeat accelerated with that sound, my palms already soaked in cold sweat. I didn’t dare show too much fear, I could only keep my head down, trying to look obedient. A wise person submits to circumstances. In this situation, it was best for me to keep my tail tucked between my legs. Besides, I’m a coward by nature anyway. The lighting inside the villa was dim, and my nerves were taut. His jaw rested on my shoulder, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue against my neck. With a click, I felt a cold sensation on my neck. What did he put on me? A steel collar, attached to an iron chain on one side. Compared to the one I put on his wrist back in Melbourne, this one was clearly more degrading and controlling. But soon I realized in horror that this thing wasn’t just for restraint. Because it was tightening. Very quickly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Was he really going to strangle me like this? He lifted a chair with one hand and sat down with his legs spread. Due to the height of the chain, I could only kneel in front of him. His long fingers stroked my cheek: “Chloe, remember what you made me say in Melbourne?”

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This is the fifth year I’ve been by the side of that infamous playboy. Someone took a picture of me looking like I might be pregnant. Rumors instantly started flying around our circle. Everyone assumed I was trying to use a baby to force his hand and secure a spot in his billionaire family. Upon hearing the news, his first love—the one who had stormed off in a fit of pique years ago—flew back to the country, out for blood. Everyone expected a massive, dramatic war between us. But when Arthur returned from his business trip, all he heard was that I had aborted the baby and slipped back to my hometown. Sigh. We “good girls” can play around however we want on normal days. But if we actually tried to carry a bastard child with no name and no status? Our parents would kill us. 1 It was the middle of the night. Right after I hung up the phone with my doctor, the doorbell rang. I stood up my suitcase and turned to open the door. The man, wearing a sleek, cold leather jacket, casually tossed his heavy sports car keys into my arms. His expression was displeased. “Why did you change the passcode to the front door?” I pursed my lips and whispered, “I was worried stalkers might be waiting outside my door.” He let out a disdainful scoff. “With the security in this building? Without registering, not even a stray cat could get in, let alone a living, breathing person.” …Well, someone got in. I thought silently to myself. Like your first love, who came over and literally kicked my door in. I took his coat and stood on my tiptoes to hang it up. Beneath his usual crisp scent of cedar, there was a lingering trace of a cloying, sweet women’s perfume. It was the exact same scent as my uninvited guest from yesterday. I pretended not to notice. He suddenly reached out and rubbed my eyes with his knuckles. “Have you been crying?” I froze, surprised he even noticed my slightly swollen eyes. I threw out a random lie. “I was just watching a movie.” Seeing me lower my long eyelashes, his gaze trailed downward, landing on my bare feet. The autumn chill was creeping in, but I hadn’t put the rugs down yet. He frowned slightly, scooped me up into his arms, and carried me to the sofa. He probably thought I was getting worked up over the recent rumors. So he spoke: “People in our circle just love to gossip. They think having a baby is a guaranteed ticket into a wealthy family. Those women eagerly waiting for a chance have been trying to shove themselves in my face forever.” “This child has another purpose for me. Just be a good girl. Don’t be like those idiots dreaming of climbing the social ladder. The position of Mrs. Sterling isn’t that simple.” These words were both a reminder and a warning. He had plenty of women around him over the years. But playing around was one thing; when it came to matters involving his family’s interests, he never hesitated or blurred the lines. If I dared to act like the other women in his circle, trying to use a child to fight for a position… He could take everything away in an instant and send me right back to where I started. I felt a little tired. Leaning against his shoulder, I gave a very soft “Mhm.” Suddenly, his gaze paused, noticing my suitcase sitting on the floor. “Going back to your hometown again?” He frowned imperceptibly. “Yeah, my parents said they miss me.” Over the years, whenever I felt wronged, I’d run back home. I’d declare I was never coming back, only to secretly buy the earliest flight back because I missed him too much. Assuming it was because Thanksgiving was coming up, he didn’t mind too much. “Stay a couple of days if you’re going back. Don’t interact with people who have twisted intentions. We’ll talk about the baby later.” He didn’t mention the return of his first love. And I smartly didn’t ask. 2 For me, it was love at first sight with Arthur Sterling. If you asked me whether I liked him more or the benefits he brought more… That would be an insult to my pure, unadulterated crush. As a “good girl” who had been disciplined by rigid rules and expectations since childhood, I walked every stage of my life exactly as my parents planned. I went to a state teaching college, chose a humanities major, and returned to my hometown to work as a teacher after graduation. My delayed rebellion erupted during my first year of working. Looking at my older colleagues, I could see exactly what my entire future looked like— Teaching, blind dates, marriage, having kids. On a hot, mundane summer afternoon, I stared at my lesson plans and a bouquet of roses given to me by a new male teacher, zoning out for a long time. I knew from a young age that I was born with a pretty, innocent face. Countless men had shown interest in me—so many that it made me feel like an easily acquirable commodity. It was annoying and incredibly depressing. Of course, there were sincere guys among them, but their shy blushes and nervous stuttering always killed any interest I had. I wanted to rip off the labels attached to me. I wanted to become someone who commanded everyone’s attention, someone completely out of reach. This unrealistic desire was suppressed, only to pop back up again and again. Until an older friend in the industry asked me if I was interested in participating in their reality idol competition show. That was probably the most rebellious thing I’ve ever done in my life. I quit my job, cut off my heavy bangs, and moved to Los Angeles. Everyone said the entertainment industry was a brutal path. But I was young, and after making a small splash on the show, I thought I was God’s gift to the world, brimming with enthusiasm for the future. Until six months later, when I hit wall after wall. Facing contract termination with my agency and having absolutely no acting gigs lined up, I was also being harassed by a sleazy producer. The balding man promised me with lecherous eyes that as long as I slept with him, he’d make me a star. I looked at his receding hairline and silently looked away. …Honestly, I didn’t have to be famous. At the very least, I couldn’t stomach that. I thought my acting career was going to be buried before it even started, but then I met Arthur. In a private VIP room filled with D-list starlets and directors, the cynical playboy sat at the head of the table— A flirtatious voice, a lazy smirk, a cigarette held between his long, elegant fingers, and a watch worth more than a house glinting in the dim light on his wrist. He was a feast for the eyes. Just one look, and I was hooked. It couldn’t be helped. We “good girls” have absolutely zero resistance to a bad boy with a bit of a rebellious streak. Not to mention, he actually chose me and pursued me with massive fanfare. He publicly acknowledged me as his “little girlfriend” in front of the media. Imagine it. In the hot, late-night summer breeze, a lazy, incredibly handsome billionaire heir leans against his multi-million dollar red convertible, one hand in his pocket. A massive bouquet of delicate, fragrant red roses sits in the passenger seat. He looks through the crowd, catches your eye, and smiles at you. It could literally kill me. He was someone my dull, boring past life had never encountered. It was also the first time I heard my own heart thumping wildly in my chest. My best friend was incredibly supportive of me. Regarding this unequal relationship, she reasoned seriously: “So what? For a good girl like you, you have to play with the wild ones until you get it out of your system before you can settle down and marry a normal guy.” “With a billionaire like Arthur, whatever slips through his fingers is enough to feed you for a lifetime. Honestly, just squeeze a few more payouts out of him before he gets bored.” I deeply agreed. So I willingly drowned myself in the warmth he wove around me. Arthur was very generous. He never skimped on gifts. Knowing I wanted to act, he personally brought scripts to me to choose from. Because of him, all the bullying and hazing on set completely vanished. The road to an Oscar suddenly became incredibly smooth; all I had to do was hone my acting skills. If it hadn’t been for his first love coming back, I probably would have greedily stayed by his side for another two years, trying my hardest to win that ultimate acting honor. 3 I had long heard rumors about this Chinese-American actress who had spent years grinding in Hollywood before finally making a name for herself. The first time Arthur’s best friend met me, he compared me to her: “She’s pretty, sure, but her personality is too soft. She doesn’t hold a candle to Elena’s fiery spirit.” That was the first time I heard the name Elena. —The name that Arthur loved until it tore his heart apart, and later hated down to his very bones. Ultimately, the only reason his snobbish, elite friends tolerated a D-list actress like me was because they felt Elena had hurt him too deeply back then. The whole circle agreed he needed someone to keep him company and help him recover. The dazzlingly beautiful actress brought her bodyguards to my house, smashed my door, shattered my vases, and threw my kitten out the window right in front of me. The kitten’s agonizing shriek made my entire body tremble. My tears fell uncontrollably, but I couldn’t even form a complete, threatening sentence. She clapped her hands slowly, looking me up and down with pitying eyes: “To make Arthur willingly keep you for five years, I thought you were some masterful, cunning character. I didn’t expect you to be such a pushover.” “But it makes sense. A pet with no temper—anyone would be willing to keep it around for a few extra years. After all, it doesn’t take any effort to coax.” My whole body was shaking, and I bit my red lips until they bled. Breaking and entering, destruction of property, plus animal cruelty. If I just called the police and leaked this, it could ruin her in minutes. Her bodyguards blocked the door to my house. She seemed to see right through my thoughts. She stepped aside, clearing a path for me, and said arrogantly: “Go ahead. The police station is just a few blocks down the street. You can go right now. Let’s see who ends up trending on Twitter.” Her absolute fearlessness clearly came from having someone backing her up. And that backing probably came from Arthur. But I didn’t think she was in the right: “As far as I know, you and Arthur aren’t even officially exes. May I ask what right you have to break in here?” “Right?” She scoffed, as if she had heard a joke. “Years ago, he almost died drag-racing on the highway in a rainstorm trying to chase after me. What right do you think I need?” “Do you know why he keeps you around so publicly? It’s just a show for me, to force me to yield.” She let out a light sneer, looking disgusted. “Did you really think he likes ‘good girls’?” I clenched my fists, forcing a cold smile to match her attitude: “But I’m pregnant with his child. Do you think he’s just going to ignore that?” Hearing this, Elena laughed out loud: “You didn’t actually think you could trap him with a baby, did you?” Her tone was incredibly light as her gaze dropped to my slightly rounded stomach: “Before I even came back, he called me. He told me that as long as I was willing to compromise, he could get rid of this baby.” Seeing the color rapidly drain from my face, the smirk on her lips grew wider. She said nonchalantly: “But what if I don’t compromise? Ms. Davis, tell me, if my bodyguards accidentally get a little too rough next time, or if I ‘accidentally’ bump into you, will Arthur blame me for crossing a line, or will he blame the baby in your belly for being an eyesore?” The setting sun shone through the window. The sky was ablaze with sunset colors, reflecting the absolute certainty in her eyes. The blood in my veins turned to ice. As if I had lost my voice, I couldn’t utter a single word. She carried a commanding, absolute confidence. This was something I could never, ever possess. Even though I had been by Arthur’s side for so long, I had never truly figured out my actual worth to him. Just like the very first time we met, he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at a minor actress who looked very similar to Elena. As for why he eventually chose me? Perhaps he just wanted to use my soft obedience to prove that he no longer longed for his fiery, stubborn first love. Since he just wanted a child, then anyone would do. Why should I wade into these muddy waters? 4 But if you ask, over those five years, did Arthur really have absolutely no feelings for me? I can only say, I don’t know. He just looked like a cynical playboy, flirting with everyone. In reality, he didn’t care about most things. For example, every holiday gift he gave me was bought by his assistant, and the restaurants for our dates were always chosen at random. But occasionally, when I ran into trouble on set, he didn’t mind personally stepping in to back me up. During my five years with him, he spent fortunes multiple times to custom-produce starring roles for me. He hired A-list actors to support me and Oscar-winning directors to helm the projects. It looked like the ultimate display of affection, but he never realized that my image just wasn’t suited to be a leading lady. So, every project I starred in bombed. I flopped so hard it left everyone in the industry utterly baffled. Once, I even “won” a Razzie Award. A rival actress mocked my acting skills, and I was so upset I cried in his arms all night. At the time, he was probably trying to mold me into Elena. But that was the one area where I was least like Elena. He probably found it funny back then. His eyes held a teasing amusement: “It really is pretty bad. You didn’t even cry this convincingly in bed.” Over all these years, I was probably his first investment project that guaranteed a loss. He had a bit to drink that night. Maybe because he was in a good mood, or maybe because he just didn’t care. He pinched my cheek with amusement, then called the organizers right in front of me and bought a Razzie Award for that rival actress too. It sounds pretty childish, but people are always moved by these childish, trivial things. Just like how I agreed to give him a child. Even though he was the one who was drunk that evening, I was the one who, as if possessed by a ghost, agreed. 5 At that time, his father was critically ill. His siblings from different mothers were all busy locking down information and fighting over the inheritance. As the youngest and most favored son, he naturally became the target of everyone’s attacks. For several months, he didn’t come to see me. During that time, an industry executive assumed I had been dumped and started getting handsy, asking if I wanted to be with him instead. I repeatedly refused, politely but firmly, but it still pissed him off. After a dinner party, enraged by my rejection, he cornered me in a hallway and tore half my dress. Thankfully, my manager arrived just in time to stop the nightmare. After that incident, people constantly tripped me up on set, and accidents kept happening during my wire stunts. Until the news reached Arthur’s ears. He specifically took time out of his schedule to pick me up from the set. On an evening with a blazing sunset, his black Maybach appeared abruptly and quietly outside the studio. As soon as I got in the car, I smelled strong alcohol. Vodka. He must have drank quite a bit. A flush of red stained his neck. His collar was loosely unbuttoned, and the eye-catching red spread across his pale chest, more vivid than the sunset. “You lost weight,” he pulled me into his arms, his long fingers rubbing the soft flesh of my waist. His lazy voice masked his exhaustion. “You aren’t eating properly without me watching you, are you?” My nose stung, and my voice was soft: “No, the new role requires me to look a bit thinner…” He just held me for a while and said, “Winston will pick you up and drop you off at work for the next few days. Call him if anything happens.” Winston was his private driver. To those with dirty intentions, this was an implicit warning. I sniffled and said, “Okay.” Actually, I wasn’t the only one who had lost weight. He had lost quite a bit, too. This was probably the first time in all these years I had seen him so depressed and exhausted. So, when he spoke up and said he wanted a baby… I froze completely for a long time. This wasn’t the first time he brought up having a child. But the previous two times, he had smiled lazily, saying he was bored and wanted a kid to play with. But this time, he wasn’t smiling. Rich families are full of drama. If he hadn’t encountered some major crisis, he probably wouldn’t be so desperate for a child. “Okay? Baby,” he ruffled my hair, his breath still laced with alcohol. “Give me a child that belongs to us.” It was just a child. A person always has to pay a price for a smooth, easy life. —That was the excuse I made for myself. I rested my forehead lightly against his. My long eyelashes fluttered. Looking into his eyes, I answered softly but seriously: “Okay.” I said, I’ll give you a child. 6 The price this child brought me was enormous. After rumors of my pregnancy leaked, first my commercial endorsements were pulled, then the roles I had secured were recast, and my social media was flooded by paid trolls. I was originally just a mediocre, unknown actress, but suddenly a mountain of scandals appeared out of nowhere. They said my acting was terrible, I only got roles because of sugar daddies, I was unprofessional, and I acted like a diva. Worse still, they claimed I was a mistress intruding on someone else’s relationship. My ultrasound report was inexplicably leaked. Trending tags like “Mistress climbs the ranks by any means necessary,” “Unmarried and pregnant to force the heir’s hand,” “First love forced away, mistress is deeply manipulative” dominated Twitter. —It was impossible to tell whose handiwork this was. For several nights, I had nightmares. I dreamt of a woman pushing me down, and blood pooling all over the floor. When I woke up in the middle of the night, my forehead and palms were covered in cold sweat. But I didn’t think much of it. I just thought everything would be fine once I gave birth to the baby. This continued for four months. Until today, when I met Elena. The thing that truly made me decide to abort the baby was her final parting words— “If Arthur wants to solidify his position, he needs to bring home a legitimate Sterling heir, and a wife from a prestigious family who can bring him powerful connections.” “And what Ms. Davis probably doesn’t know is that when I was fourteen, I had an accident and my uterus was removed. I can never have children.” So it went without saying who this child was being prepared for. She stopped there, provoking me: “But as you know, I am a very proud person. I cannot tolerate another woman’s child.” “Even if it is born, I have a hundred ways to ensure it suffers an ‘accident’.” “Ms. Davis, you should know what choice to make.” She turned and left with her massive entourage of bodyguards. It seemed like she was leaving the choice in my hands, but every single word was a threat. The setting sun was a fierce, bloody orange. I stood alone in the trashed living room for a long time. The sting in my eyes slowly overflowed, my fingers curled slightly, and suddenly the tears fell. The clock on the wall ticked by, the shadows of the sunset slowly shifted, and the lonely time stretched endlessly. During my years by Arthur’s side, I experienced many moments of waiting alone. He always did whatever he wanted. One second he’d say he was staying the night, and the next he’d be heading out to a club with his friends. The rumors said he was a playboy. It was probably because whenever girls threw themselves at him at those parties, he didn’t mind popping a bottle of champagne for them amidst the cheering, or sharing a kiss with them. Occasionally, I would accidentally walk in on these scenes. Bystanders would joke around, asking if I wanted to find a new boyfriend. Arthur would drawl lazily, telling them to stop being a bad influence on me, then release the girl in his arms and pull me into his embrace. The gazes of the onlookers were too mocking, so I would blush and bury my face in his chest. He would rest his chin on top of my head, gently nuzzling my hair, sighing with satisfaction: “So good.” Later, as it happened more often, he would bite my earlobe and ask seemingly casually: “Why do you never cause a fuss? Aren’t you jealous?” I would look at the chaotic lights in the VIP room, unable to answer for a long time. Why not cause a fuss? Because I was confident in my own charm? Or because I was sober enough to know there was no future for us? Or maybe… I just hadn’t played enough? If many girls threw a tantrum, they could get some compensation before turning to the next luxurious party. But I was different. I wanted to enjoy being by his side for another two years. So, I never threw a fuss. Aside from having a lot of ambiguous flings with other girls, he was incredibly good to me. Because I casually said “Why aren’t there any fireworks?” on New Year’s Eve, fireworks lit up the sky over the bay for the entire night. Because I showed a bit of extra fondness for a piece of jewelry, he outbid everyone to millions just to buy it for me, personally putting it on me in front of everyone. Because I wanted to see the snow, he rented out an entire private gondola line in the Swiss Alps. I had kissed him passionately on the streets of Paris, tasted wine with him at a private estate in Italy, and driven his red Ferrari through the city streets at dawn. Behind all these scenes was a level of wealth that ordinary people couldn’t even imagine. Having experienced all this, I felt I should be satisfied. 7 When I finally started packing my bags, I surprisingly didn’t feel much reluctance. People change. The mindset of a 23-year-old and a 28-year-old are always different. LA was great, but my hometown was my true home. If Arthur had been a bit more observant, maybe he would have noticed. My favorite vase, which usually sat in the entryway, was gone. My usually clingy kitten was lethargically licking its fur in its bed, wrapped in bandages. And there was a shallow cut on my ankle from the broken porcelain. But he didn’t notice any of it. After dinner, he went into his study to handle business. He was flying to New York tomorrow to audit some shares and deal with a few illegitimate siblings. It would probably be a while before he came back. This perfectly gave me the time to get the abortion and leave. I did a lap around the house. The closet was mostly filled with luxury bags and jewelry. Even if I took them back to my hometown, they’d be useless. Just as I was about to close the closet doors. A diamond-encrusted ring fell out. At an auction last year, Arthur specifically outbid another executive’s wife just to spite her, and gave it to me. It was supposed to be a matching his-and-hers set. But he threw the men’s ring away. The implication was probably telling me not to get ahead of myself. I found the original velvet box to put it in, then found a postcard, wanting to write something about these past five years. But after thinking about it, I didn’t know what there was to write. It was all just a mutually consensual act anyway. On the brink of falling completely for him, I was almost thankful Elena had yanked me out. I rested my chin on my hand, zoning out as I wrote, the fountain pen bleeding ink dots where I paused after every sentence— “Arthur, thank you for taking care of me these past five years.” “I really like LA. It’s always so lively here, but I also often felt lonely.” “I really miss home, and I really want to settle down.” “My parents are getting older, they can’t be without me.” “Don’t blame me, Arthur.” … It was basically a stream of consciousness. At the end, I left one final sentence: “I hope you get what you want. Happy wedding.”

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My parents were cowards their entire lives. The only person they ever dared to throw their weight around with was my sister-in-law. They firmly believed: “She’s been chasing your brother since high school. She can’t live without him.” When they got married, my mom didn’t contribute a single cent. She even shamelessly took over the master bedroom that my sister-in-law had paid to renovate. My sister-in-law didn’t make a fuss about it. Because of that, my mom thought she had completely dominated this “pushover.” She bragged to everyone she met about how capable my brother was, landing a beautiful, successful wife who actually paid her own way into the family. But what they didn’t know was that every late night, after they had made things difficult for her, my brother would drop to his knees and beg my sister-in-law for forgiveness. Like a dog wagging its tail, begging for pity. In the second year of their marriage, my sister-in-law never came back. And neither did my brother. 1 My sister-in-law was my brother’s high school classmate. They had been together since college, dating for seven years. Whenever my mom brought her up, she always had a look of absolute certainty. “I saw her back then. Following your brother around with a huge smile, greeting me so enthusiastically.” “Your brother said they were just classmates, but I could tell even then she was throwing herself at him.” My sister-in-law really did do a lot. My brother admitted as much himself. “She’s too good to me.” He said that from Chicago to Boston, and then to New York, through all their moves, she handled everything. Renting apartments, buying furniture, settling in—she put in both the money and the effort. She worked hard, got promotions quickly, and eventually made twice as much as my brother. But she never minded. Even when it came to getting married, she took the initiative. In our rural town, taking in a daughter-in-law meant treating her like royalty. From the engagement to the wedding, money usually flowed out like water. But my sister-in-law was different. She loved spending money on our family. The first time she visited, she gave each of us a pearl necklace, packed in exquisite boxes. Seeing that our house was too dilapidated to be a proper bridal home, she paid out of pocket to have it fully renovated, inside and out. Later, when discussing the dowry, she only asked for ten thousand dollars. But the moment my mom heard that, she started crying poor: “Ten thousand? Where are we supposed to get that kind of money? Is she trying to drive us to the grave?” My brother got annoyed. “Mom, ten thousand is already the absolute minimum she could ask for under pressure. Any less, and she can’t justify it to her parents.” My dad, who usually took great pride in my brother, also pulled a long face. “It’s not that we don’t want to give it, but we’ve been paying for your education all these years. Where would we get savings?” “Son, Penny has a good temper. Just go coax her a little. She’s twenty-eight, a year older than you. Don’t you think her family is anxious?” “Mom,” my brother tried to reason. “Penny makes her own money. We just need to show some respect and do things properly so she feels valued. Won’t she be even more filial to you in the future?” “Filial?” My mom acted like she had heard a joke, her mouth twisting into a sneer. “Once she marries in, she’s a member of the Miller family. Isn’t it her duty to be good to her in-laws? Why should we have to buy that with money?” “What if she decides not to marry me?” My mom laughed, a shrewd glint in her eyes: “She’s been with you for so many years, everyone in town knows it! Who else is she going to marry? She knew our family’s financial situation from the start. I don’t believe for a second she’d throw away her reputation over a little money! If you won’t talk to her, I’ll go do it myself.” Terrified she would actually go and ruin everything, my brother bit the bullet and talked to her himself. When he came back, his face was ashen. And my sister-in-law, shockingly, asked for nothing at all. My mom excitedly slapped her thigh. “Really? I knew Penny was a good girl. Tell her not to worry, Mom will definitely love her like my own daughter from now on.” My brother didn’t reply and silently went into his room. But my mom was bursting with smugness, unable to hide her grin. “See, I told you. The more educated they are, the thinner their skin. They’re so easy to manipulate.” 2 On the day of the engagement, the bride’s relatives filled the room. But my mom stubbornly changed the agreed-upon $1,700 “meeting gift” to $1,100. She shoved the thin red envelope into my sister-in-law’s hands, sugarcoating her words: “$1,100. It’s a good omen, meaning you’re one in a thousand. You must accept it.” The bride’s parents’ faces instantly darkened. My brother anxiously pulled at her: “Mom! We agreed on seventeen hundred!” “This has always been the tradition around here!” She acted wronged instead, staring pointedly at my sister-in-law. “Penny, you’re not actually complaining it’s too little, are you?” My sister-in-law reached out to stop her parents, who were about to explode. The corners of her mouth lifted very slightly, and she pushed the envelope back. “Mrs. Miller, I can’t take this money. Leo and I can make our own money. It’s better if you two keep this for your retirement.” At the time, my mom completely missed the underlying implication in my sister-in-law’s words. She put up a fake show of declining twice, then turned to the in-laws with a radiant smile: “You’ve raised such a sensible daughter!” And just like that, the marriage was settled amidst my mom’s smug laughter. As soon as the guests left, she couldn’t wait to show off to the neighbors: “Oh my, our daughter-in-law is just too sensible. She knows we old folks have it hard, so she absolutely refused to take any money. She said as long as she’s with Leo, she’s perfectly happy.” Her smug face clearly broadcasted how capable she thought her son was. He didn’t have to spend a dime to marry a beautiful, capable wife who paid her own way. It allowed my parents, who had been cowards their whole lives, to finally hold their heads high with pride. The villagers were full of envy: “The Millers really lucked out. Marrying a daughter-in-law without spending any money.” “I heard she’s very successful too, even bought a house in the city!” “Tell me about it. Unlike our daughter-in-law, who asked for tens of thousands right off the bat. I lose sleep over it every night.” Hearing this, my dad proudly shared his “experience.” “Setups and blind dates are unreliable. You have to let the kids find an old classmate. There’s real affection there, so they don’t care about money.” “Sigh, my boy isn’t as capable as your Leo. He got into a great college!” The neighbor handed him a cigarette, his face full of envy. My dad immediately put on that same foolish, cowardly smile he’d worn for decades: “It’s just the kid working hard. We’re useless.” But before the ember on the cigarette even died down, he changed the subject: “Oh, by the way, that new AC in our house, and the fully automatic washing machine? Our daughter-in-law bought them. We told her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. Said she wanted us to enjoy life a little.” My dad tirelessly updated his “Daughter-in-Law’s Filial Piety Log” every single day. From her single-handedly organizing the wedding, to how meticulously she took care of me, his youngest daughter. In the winter, worried I’d be cold, she mailed an electric blanket directly to our house. Whenever new packages arrived, they were usually clothes or school supplies she bought for me. She would even frequently ask my brother to transfer me some pocket money, fifty or a hundred bucks at a time, never stingy. I liked my sister-in-law. She was ten years older than me, but she seemed to see my awkwardness from afar. Sometimes, before I could even voice a need, the thing I wanted would already be delivered to me. Her kindness towards me had clear boundaries; it was never overstepping, and it never felt like charity. Whenever I got a package and excitedly shared it with my mom, she would look at me with disdain: “Look, she’s at it again. Done sucking up to the old folks, now she’s sucking up to the kid.” My dad, after a couple of drinks, would smile in satisfaction: “Oh, she’s doing all this just to please your brother. If you ask me, she couldn’t survive without him.” But I always felt that wasn’t the case. I had video-called my brother once, and I clearly saw that with just one look from my sister-in-law, my brother would become incredibly careful and cautious. 3 But my parents didn’t see it that way. They ordered my sister-in-law around as if it was their divine right. Half a month before Thanksgiving, my dad urged my brother to come home: “This is the new bride’s first holiday with us. We have to visit all the relatives, and the gifts must be adequate. We can’t let people look down on the Miller family.” My brother agreed. They couldn’t come back right away, but he mailed a massive pile of things. My mom called every day to rush them. Finally, two days before Thanksgiving, they arrived. The moment their new car parked, my mom grabbed my sister-in-law’s hand, her smile hiding thorns: “Penny, you’re finally back! Making money in the big city really is different, you can only leave at the very last minute. Anyone would think the company couldn’t run without you. How much are they paying you that you can’t even get time off?” My sister-in-law smiled and nodded: “Yeah, the company is quite generous. They just gave me a ten thousand dollar year-end bonus, so I couldn’t just take time off casually.” My mom’s smile instantly froze on her face. Her mouth twitched, but she couldn’t find a response. She unconsciously let go of her hand and turned to dig through the gift boxes in the trunk. She raised her voice, as if trying to regain control of the situation: “This box is for your aunt! That carton of cigarettes is for your other aunt!” My sister-in-law didn’t reply. Meanwhile, my dad was squatting next to a case of premium bourbon, his fingers repeatedly tracing the gold lettering, his eyes wide. “Penny, you bought this? This… this must have cost a lot, right? Look at you, we’re all family, why are you being so polite? How is an old man like me worthy of drinking this?” He looked up and grinned, revealing a dark gap where a tooth was missing. My brother quickly walked over, helped him up, and said in a low voice: “Dad, Penny bought that specifically for her father. Since we didn’t give much money when we got married, her dad was pretty unhappy. We’re using the holidays to make him feel a bit better.” The smile lines on my dad’s face instantly froze. He let out a flat “Oh” and walked away with his hands behind his back. My mom’s face visibly darkened, and she immediately looked for another reason to exert authority. “Leo,” her voice was tight. “Before it gets completely dark, hurry up and take your wife to your eldest aunt’s house to deliver the gifts. We already arranged it, they’re waiting. Don’t be disrespectful.” My brother frowned: “Mom, I just drove for eight or nine hours, and Penny is tired too. Can’t we just go tomorrow?” “What kind of talk is that?” My mom kept smiling, but her words were forceful. “Relative etiquette is more important than anything. If you don’t go, people will say your wife doesn’t know any better. You need to think about your wife’s reputation.” Before she finished speaking, she looked up at my sister-in-law. “Penny, tell me, is Mom right or wrong?” My sister-in-law looked up, still wearing that docile expression, and nodded: “I’ll follow your arrangement.” I watched my brother and sister-in-law drag their exhausted bodies back into the car. “Mom, you’re rushing them too much. Leo is clearly unhappy,” I couldn’t help but say. “What do you know?” The smile vanished from my mom’s face, replaced by a cold, calculating gleam. “When a new bride enters the house, you have to establish the rules first. Don’t think that just because she makes more money, she can look down on our family. If you don’t grind down her temper right from the start, your brother will be the one suffering later. I’m doing this for your brother’s own good.” “I think my sister-in-law is perfectly fine. Don’t go overboard,” my dad said with a dark expression, pulling a bottle of the premium bourbon out of the case. “How am I going overboard? Your mom is right. Someone like her, who starts favoring outsiders the second she makes a little money, needs to be disciplined. Her dad is a dad, and I’m not a dad?” He stiffened his neck and poured himself a small glass. I was shocked. “Dad, isn’t that the bourbon my sister-in-law bought to give as a gift?” “I’m just trying it today. What’s she going to do if I drink it?” 4 My brother and sister-in-law came back very late. My sister-in-law was shivering from the cold, and my brother was busy boiling hot water for her. She turned around, saw me, and quickly pulled a red envelope out of her pocket, stuffing it into my hands. “Here, Chloe. Your brother and I’s holiday gift to you. Wishing you peace and joy every year.” She was still smiling gently. I squeezed the envelope, my throat tightening. The issue with the alcohol felt like a heavy stone pressing against the back of my tongue. But looking at her exhausted face, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. It was my brother who noticed the open case. His face turned dark. “Dad, did you touch this liquor?” My dad shuffled out of the back room in his worn-out slippers. He reeked of alcohol, his face flushed red, and his usually hunched back was now standing straight. “So what if I touched it? The liquor my daughter-in-law bought… as the father, I can’t drink it?” My brother was trembling with anger. “Didn’t I tell you…” “Tell me what? If I want to drink it, I’ll drink it!” Perhaps the alcohol had given him liquid courage, stripping away his usual cowardice, making the veins bulge on his neck. He suddenly turned his spear toward my silent sister-in-law: “Penny, you tell me! This liquor, can I drink it or not?” All eyes were pinned on my sister-in-law. She stood quietly in the doorway, still wearing that faint smile. “Of course you can,” her voice didn’t have a single ripple of emotion. “Since it’s open, you can keep the rest of this bottle. I’ll just buy another one for my dad. But I don’t have any cash on me right now, so the envelope Leo originally prepared for you will probably have to go toward filling this hole.” The arrogance on my dad’s face vanished instantly, freezing in place. “Buy? You’re going to buy more?” My mom’s shrill voice abruptly cut in. “Did money fall from the sky, for you to waste it like this?! You wasteful, useless…” “Mom!” My brother let out a low, sudden roar, cutting her off. “It’s the holidays, what are you trying to do? Just go back to your room.” My mom glared at my brother, her face red and her neck thick with rage. “Why should I go back to my room? Look at your wonderful wife, trying to use your dad’s money to honor her own family! Does she have any manners at all?” She took a sudden step forward. “I’m going to teach her a lesson for you today.” My brother anxiously stepped in front of my parents, grabbed their arms, and without another word, shoved them toward their room. My heart was pounding in terror as I stole a glance at my sister-in-law. There wasn’t a trace of the anger I expected. She just looked at my brother’s tense back, turned around, and went into her room. I felt incredibly uneasy and couldn’t sleep. My sister-in-law’s calm, almost apathetic look was like the winter moon—cold and distant. The living room had long since gone quiet. I noticed a faint sliver of yellow light leaking from under my brother’s door. Driven by some strange compulsion, I crept closer. I heard my brother’s voice, kept extremely low, carrying a kind of broken, desperate pleading I had never heard from him before. “Honey, I know they’re being unreasonable, I’m furious too… just one last time, one last time, okay? If they keep acting this oblivious, we’ll leave immediately… I’m begging you…” That voice didn’t sound like a husband. It sounded more like a dog wagging its tail, begging for pity. My heart skipped a beat, and my suspicions were finally confirmed. As it turned out, the one being manipulated was never my sister-in-law. It was my brother. 5 The next morning, my mom woke up early and banged loudly on my brother’s door. “Leo, time to get up.” I quickly ran over and pulled her away. “Mom, Leo and Penny went to bed late last night, you shouldn’t bother them.” She glared at me, using the opportunity to scold me instead: “You have the nerve to talk? Sleeping in until the sun is high in the sky. When you get married, let’s see who can tolerate this attitude of yours!” I lowered my voice and tried to reason with her: “Mom, Penny is going to get mad if you do this. Just for Leo’s sake, give it a rest.” She looked as if she had heard the funniest joke in the world: “What right does she have to get mad? If your brother hadn’t said we shouldn’t make a scene during the holidays, you think I would have let that wasteful brat off the hook so easily yesterday? She’s lazy and ruins our finances, your brother will divorce her sooner or later!” I panicked and blurted out: “Mom, can’t you see? Leo only said that to save face! He’s absolutely terrified of Penny, that’s why yesterday…” “You ungrateful traitor!” My mom cut me off sharply, poking my forehead hard with her finger. “What kind of magic potion did she give you? Bought your loyalty with a few cheap clothes, and now you’re seeing things? Where do you see your brother being afraid of her? Of her?” Her yelling grew louder and louder. My brother walked out of the room with a dark expression and pulled her out into the yard: “Mom! Can you keep your voice down?!” Being disrespected by her son in public, my mom couldn’t save face. “Leo, you can’t spoil a woman too much. Your wife…” “Mom, what young person doesn’t sleep in nowadays? You never used to wake me up like this, why do you insist on knocking on the door now that she’s married to me?” “I’m disciplining my daughter-in-law for you! How can we let her act like she owns the place in our house?” “Enough, do you just have to cause trouble?” My brother looked utterly exhausted. “I’ll wake her up in a bit. We’re not eating at home today, I’m taking her to visit a few of my uncles.” Hearing “uncles,” my mom’s expression instantly brightened. “Yes, yes, you should go! Have your wife prepare some good stuff. Your uncles are wealthy, they look down on cheap things. Take those two bottles of premium liquor with you.” “Yeah.” My brother gave a vague reply and turned to walk back inside. She didn’t notice the profound annoyance on my brother’s face. Filled with excitement, she enthusiastically shoved all the gifts my sister-in-law had originally prepared for her own family into the trunk. Not long after, he took my sister-in-law and left. For the next two days, they always left right after waking up and only returned late at night. My mom’s smugness practically overflowed at the dinner table. “See that? That’s how you order a new bride around. Making her run around visiting relatives and learning the routes is the only way she can earn face for us!” I stared at the greasy food in my bowl and couldn’t help but talk back: “Mom, have you ever considered that maybe Penny just doesn’t want to be in this house, which is why she’d rather be out running around all day?” “She wouldn’t dare!” My mom slammed her chopsticks onto the table, her eyes wide. “It’s not up to her whether she wants to stay in this house or not. You think your brother would let her get away with that?” I gave a bitter smile and didn’t argue with her. I just hoped that once my parents’ anger subsided, they would stop causing trouble and pushing my brother away. However, the conflict exploded during Thanksgiving dinner anyway. 6 That day, the Thanksgiving dinner was already on the table when my brother finally brought my sister-in-law home. My mom looked thoroughly displeased. “Penny, come help out in the kitchen. Learn how to prepare the fish. Leo loves fish, so you’ll need to know how to make it for him in the future.” My sister-in-law didn’t move from her seat, just offered a slight smile: “There’s no need. I don’t like eating fish, and I don’t know how to cook it.” “If you don’t know how, then learn! Are you expecting Leo to serve you for the rest of your life?” My brother quickly stepped in, trying to push my mom back toward the kitchen. “Come on, Mom. If you’re too busy, I’ll help you. I like cooking, and I’m better at it than she is.” “Nonsense!” My dad sat on the sofa, pulling a long face. “Women’s work. What’s a grown man doing getting involved? You’re embarrassing yourself!” “What’s embarrassing about it?” My brother’s voice was full of exhaustion as he reprimanded my dad. “How is a man loving his wife embarrassing? You should have thrown out those outdated, feudal ideas a long time ago!” Seeing my brother’s dark expression, my dad’s lips trembled, but he didn’t say another word. I quickly went into the kitchen, helped my mom finish the fish, and brought it out. But the atmosphere at the dinner table remained stiff. My sister-in-law didn’t seem to care, picking up her chopsticks and eating on her own. Seeing that my sister-in-law wasn’t angry, my brother seemed to let out a sigh of relief, smiling as he placed a piece of ribs in her bowl. My mom watched this and suddenly let out a sharp laugh: “Penny, in the city… do you also enjoy this kind of luxury? Every meal served to you ready-made?” My sister-in-law chewed slowly, swallowed, and finally looked up, smiling gently: “Yes. Leo just loves cooking and serving me.” She paused. “When he works overtime, I hire a maid. Anyway, I can afford it.” “A maid?” My mom’s voice pitched up sharply. “Does money fall from the sky? Now that you’ve married in, that money belongs to the Miller family! How dare you waste it like that?” “The Miller family’s?” My sister-in-law gently set down her chopsticks, her voice remaining calm. “Do you still not know that everything Leo has is mine? Even he himself belongs to the Davis family now!” My mom looked at her in disbelief, her voice trembling: “What do you mean?” My sister-in-law smiled. “It means he gave me all of his money, and I used it to buy a house that’s solely in my name, purchased before we got married. He transferred his residency to my address and became a part of the Davis household. Therefore, the head of the household is me. Now, don’t you think it’s perfectly justified for him to serve me?” Dead silence fell over the dinner table. My parents shot terrified and furious glares at my brother. He took a deep breath, as if using the last of his strength: “Why are you looking at me like that? Our family is so poor, and you weren’t willing to contribute a single cent. If I didn’t pay up, what right would I have to marry a wife?” “Penny is so outstanding. What made you think she would willingly pay her own way to marry me?” My parents looked as if they had been struck by lightning, unable to speak for a long time. My sister-in-law casually finished her meal, pushed her bowl away, and went back to her room.

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My dad used to be a punk. Later, my mom beat some sense into him, and he became a company CEO. But the year he made it big, he was surrounded by women. He always smelled of alcohol and often didn’t come home at night. So my mom didn’t want him anymore. And by extension, she didn’t want me anymore either. So, I hate Arthur Vance. 1. Another night. I got up to cook some spicy ramen. One pack of fire noodles, extra spicy, topped with two fried eggs. “Eat less spicy food, adding two pieces of vegetables would be better.” A cold female voice echoed in my mind. I quickly tossed two slightly wilted vegetables in. Legend has it this is the system my mom bound herself to back in the day. After my mom completed her mission, she left me a system. Besides that, she left nothing. I couldn’t even find a single photo of her in the house. When I missed my mom, I could only run to the cemetery. There was a photo of her there. Her high school graduation photo, which Arthur spent a long time finding. That’s the only good thing he’s done in his life. I scooped out the fire noodles and rinsed them in cold water. The cold female voice reminded me again: “Turn off the stove.” Oh right. I forgot to turn off the stove because I was lost in thought. I rubbed my head, then grabbed a box of pre-cut fruit from the fridge to cool down the spice. I picked up a piece of watermelon and stuffed it into my mouth, asking as I ate, “Auntie System, does this fruit taste fermented to you?” “It tastes a bit sour.” “Spit it out quickly, don’t eat anymore, it’s gone bad.” “The milk in the fridge is fresh.” Even though it was a cold, electronic voice, hearing it warmed my heart. In this world, Auntie System is my only relative. She’s been by my side since I was little. When I cried, she comforted me. When Arthur didn’t come home at night, she kept me company. When I was bullied by other kids, Auntie System would play games with me: “Leo, stand up, let’s have a race.” “Whoever runs home first wins.” I always ran the fastest. When I got home and called for Auntie System, she would always reply after a while: “Leo, good job, you won again.” As I grew older, even if I ran fast, I would still get caught and beaten. Getting beaten hurt too much. So I dyed my hair red, got earrings, and got tattoos on my arms and neck. Sure enough, people avoided me when they saw me. Arthur also avoided me. But he wasn’t afraid of me; he was disgusted by me. He looked at me no differently than he looked at an enemy. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I like him that much either. Suddenly, a car horn honked outside. I glanced out. Arthur was back. 2. The electronic door lock chimed, indicating a successful unlock. The next second, a tall, straight figure appeared in the doorway. I glanced back. Arthur was wearing an expensive suit, his hair perfectly styled, his gold-rimmed glasses gleaming with a cold light. His gaze fell on my newly dyed hair, and he frowned deeply. My hand gripping the chopsticks paused. I should have been used to this by now. I kept my head down and ate my noodles. The extra spicy fire noodles made my eyes water. So I chugged several mouthfuls of milk. Arthur stood behind me, his cold eyes sweeping over the food on the table: “Where’s the housekeeper? Who let you eat this junk food?” His voice was icy. I didn’t want to talk to him. He just stood there behind me. The air seemed to freeze. “Look at yourself, what do you look like now?” His voice was cold and heavy, and I clenched my fists. The atmosphere was at a stalemate. Auntie System quickly comforted me: “Leo, don’t fight.” “Your dad is a bastard.” “Ignore him.” I endured it, and endured it some more, but finally couldn’t hold back: “You hate how I look right now?” “You’ve never cared about me since I was born. What right do you have to care about me now!” I stood up abruptly. Arthur looked up at me, his eyes devoid of any warmth: “Leo Vance, who taught you to speak like that?” I sneered: “You think I have no manners?” “Well, who was there to teach me?” “My mom died early. Why don’t you find me a stepmom quickly, have a new child, and pretend I’m dead.” Arthur’s knuckles clenched tight. A crisp slap landed on my face. “Do you know what you’re saying?” He was angrier than I was. His gaze fell on my face, very cold, very heavy. I kept my neck stiff and looked at him, refusing to back down. I didn’t say anything wrong. As far back as I can remember, there have always been many women around him. Whenever he wasn’t around, they would secretly ask me: “What kind of women does your dad like?” I wanted to say he likes women like my mom. My mom loved wearing white dresses. Long hair, loved to smile. When she smiled, her eyes lit up, and she had a dimple. But I forgot, my dad hated my mom the most. So I changed my tune: “As long as it’s not my mom, he likes everyone.” Over the years, he’s had all sorts of women around him, just no one like my mom. If there were, I could at least see what my mom looked like when she was alive. My nose stung, but I still kept my neck stiff, refusing to back down. Time ticked by, second by second. Drops of nosebleed hit the floor. Shock flashed in Arthur’s eyes, then he looked at me with a cold face: “If you want to be a punk, go be one outside. Don’t let me see you in the house.” I pursed my lips, my fingers clenching and unclenching, and finally lowered my head: “I’ll leave after I finish this bowl of noodles.” Arthur didn’t say anything else and went straight upstairs. I looked at his back. He didn’t even remember that today is my birthday. I sat down, casually wiped my nosebleed, and kept my head down, taking big bites of noodles. Auntie System said I have to eat longevity noodles on my birthday. I don’t know how to make them. So I substituted fire noodles. The fried eggs were a must; Auntie System said they were the symbol of longevity noodles. I want my mom to know. I’m taking good care of myself. “Auntie System, can my mom see me?” I sniffled, took a deep breath, and fought back my tears. “Yes.” “Happy birthday, Leo.” I wiped my nosebleed with a tissue and smiled: “Thank you, Auntie System.” Arthur watched quietly from upstairs for a while. He stood in the shadows, unmoving. Until I was about to leave, Auntie System suddenly spoke: “Arthur really is a bastard.” I instinctively looked back. The second-floor hallway was empty. Only one bedroom door had just closed. The light seeping through the crack of the door went out in an instant. I gripped the doorknob tightly and slammed the door shut. The room suddenly fell silent. In the darkness, Arthur stood behind the door. The gift under his coat pressed painfully against his chest. He looked down at the exquisitely wrapped box, rubbing his fingers over it for a long time. Finally, he placed it in the deepest part of his drawer. Together with a white dress he had never given away. 3. I had nowhere to go, and not a penny on me. Arthur refused to give me money. He said I was doing bad things, using the money to support a bunch of punk underlings. Tsk. If I had known, I would have burned the tie I bought for him. A tie so expensive. I saved up for three months to buy it. I’d rather give it to a dog than him. “Auntie System, where can I go?” I stood at a crosswalk under a streetlight. Nowhere to go. Auntie System was silent for a moment: “Leo, let’s go home. It’s too late, it’s not safe.” I waved my hand, “Arthur hates me, I’d better not annoy him.” I wandered aimlessly. Only stray dogs accompanied me on the early morning streets. I don’t know how long I walked, but I passed a bar and took a second look. “Leo, minors aren’t allowed to drink.” Auntie System’s alarm bells rang. I quickly said: “I’m not.” “I’m looking at the guy getting beaten up. Why does he look so much like my underling?” “Mark! Is that you?” The person on the ground struggled to squeeze a hand out from under the feet of several people, waving feebly at me. It really was him! I strode forward, shoved them aside, and hauled Mark up from the ground. “What are you doing?!” “What are we doing? He watered down our drinks! If we don’t beat him, who do we beat?” Mark grabbed my sleeve, his eyes swollen to slits, wiping away tears only for more to well up. “I didn’t! Boss Leo, they told me to deliver alcohol, I delivered it, they didn’t pay, and they claimed I watered it down.” “You punk, got a death wish?” The lead guy raised his arm, his slap about to fall. I blocked it firmly: “Give him his money.” “I won’t, what are you gonna do about it?” I clenched my fists. “Leo, don’t fight, don’t get hurt.” “Call the police first.” Auntie System’s voice sounded a bit anxious. I clenched and unclenched my fists, holding myself back over and over. The guy threw off my hand, stepped forward, and patted Mark’s face: “Next time we get you to deliver alcohol, be smart. If you dare ask for money again, I’ll break your legs.” I couldn’t hold back anymore and landed a punch on the guy’s face. Both sides were quickly rolling around fighting. I don’t know who called the police, but the siren grew closer and closer. 4. Inside the police station, I clutched my stomach and wailed. “Officers, neither of us are adults yet. You have to protect the flowers of the nation.” “Look at us, he beat us up like this! My handsome face is swollen like a meat bun!” “I think I’ve gone deaf in one ear.” “My head hurts so much, save me, officers!” The officer sighed: “We know, let’s take your statements first.” After taking our statements, the police detained the group of guys. “We recovered the money, a total of 347 dollars.” “But, beating people is wrong. If you have a problem, call the police.” “I’ve already called your parents. You can leave when they come to sign.” I pouted and kicked the floor. Will Arthur come? Tsk. If he doesn’t, he doesn’t. The food at the police station is pretty good anyway. Mark sat next to me, his face bruised and battered, his eyes swollen to mere slits, fighting back tears. Even so, he still tightly held the recovered money. It was heartbreaking to see. “Is your mom doing better?” “Yeah! With dialysis three times a week, she’s much better.” “Last week she was even saying you should come over for炸酱面 (Zhajiangmian).” I clenched my fingers, my nose suddenly stinging. Back when Arthur kicked me out of the house and I was starving to death, it was Mark who took me home. His mom cooked a pot of noodles for me. That was the best meal I had ever eaten. Snapping back to reality, my eyes were already wet. I rubbed them hard before speaking: “Okay, I’ll go see Auntie in a couple of days.” “Great!” Mark nodded vigorously, a huge smile spreading across his face, but it tugged at the wounds on his face, making him grimace in pain. I turned my head and secretly smiled too. “Leo Vance.” A cold voice suddenly rang out. 5. I looked up, meeting a cold gaze. I instinctively sat up straighter, using my jacket to hide my injuries, tightly clenching my fingers. Arthur glanced at the injuries on my face, looking closely from my swollen, red eyes to my split lip. Finally, he said nothing and walked straight inside. I don’t know how long I waited. Before Arthur came out and stood firmly in front of me. I waited for a long time, but he refused to speak to me. He probably thought I was beyond saving. Tsk. If he won’t talk, he won’t talk. I grabbed my jacket from the chair and was about to leave when Arthur suddenly called out: “Stop.” I frowned and looked back, only to see the police officer leading out those punks. “Apologize.” Arthur said flatly. I tightly clenched my fists. Making me… apologize? Is Arthur blind? Can’t he see my face is covered in injuries? “Apologize. Do you want to stay in the police station forever?” Arthur looked up, his eyes already impatient. “We’re sorry, little bro. Please be the bigger person and let us go.” I froze in place, looking up only to see the back of Arthur’s head. So, he was telling them to apologize to me. I clenched my fingers, looking at Arthur’s back again and again. Only then did I notice his shirt was very wrinkled, the collar turned up haphazardly, and the buttons on his cuffs weren’t even buttoned. Arthur was always meticulous. In all these years, I had never seen a single wrinkle on his clothes. So, he was in a hurry because of me? Tsk. I don’t believe it. “Auntie System, do you think Arthur is standing up for me?” I asked quietly in my heart. Auntie System looked at Arthur for a long time before speaking: “I don’t understand him either.” True, even the most precise algorithms have a hard time deciphering human hearts. I’ll stop thinking about it. Arthur isn’t a good egg anyway. 6. Coming out of the police station, Arthur’s black car had its headlights on in the rain. I looked towards the driver’s seat. A woman with chestnut hair smiled with red lips, waving at me through the half-open window. “Little brat, in trouble again?” Mia, a famous actress. The woman who has stayed by my dad’s side the longest. All of my dad’s explosive scandals are related to her. Recently, rumors about an illegitimate child caused an uproar. In the end, Arthur suppressed it, and it didn’t affect Mia’s new drama release at all. You can see how much Arthur likes her. I ignored her, frowning fiercely at Arthur behind me. Arthur stopped walking and explained: “I drank, Auntie Mia drove me.” Seeing I didn’t move, he opened the car door for me: “Let’s go home first.” Disgusting. I glared at him fiercely. Just as I was about to leave, Arthur grabbed my arm, his grip very strong: “Get in the car, let’s go home first.” I gritted my teeth, staring dead at Arthur: “Why are you still pretending to care about me? Don’t you have an illegitimate child with her? In a couple of years, they’ll take over my and my mom’s place, you’ll be a real family, I’m just an eyesore to you.” Arthur’s face was tight, his grip on my arm not loosening in the slightest. “Leo, this is between adults.” “Bullshit!” “This is absolutely not just between adults! You lost my mom, you made me motherless! What right do you have to say it’s only between adults!” “Arthur, I will never forgive you!” I tried to shake off Arthur’s hand, but he held on too tight, his eyes full of emotions I couldn’t understand: “Leo, it’s too late, come back with me first.” “Leo, it’s too dangerous outside, listen to your dad, go back with him.” Auntie System also advised me. I clenched my fingers, fighting back my stinging tears, and got in the car. I wasn’t afraid of Arthur. I just didn’t want Auntie System to worry about me. It was getting late, she should rest too. 7. Arthur sat in the passenger seat. I crossed my arms and glared coldly at their backs. “How about it, little brat? Do your dad and I look good together?” Mia raised an eyebrow at me through the rearview mirror. I snorted coldly: “Yeah, you’re both sick in the head, a perfect match.” “Is that so? Thank you.” Mia laughed heartily. My face turned pale with anger. Arthur leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes: “Mia, stop teasing him.” Mia glanced at Arthur upon hearing this, then rolled up the window and turned on the heat. I sneered inwardly: “They should just lock themselves together, saves Arthur from bothering my mom after he dies.” “They won’t. They’re not in the same world.” “They’ll never have a chance to meet again in this lifetime.” Auntie System’s voice was very, very soft. The intermittent electronic voice made my heart feel heavy. Is that so? I glanced at Arthur, who was frowning even in his sleep. Never seeing my mom again is truly the best punishment. As the car neared the house, Arthur got out. There was a pharmacy outside. What’s he doing? He has more muscles than me, what’s wrong with him? Mia saw my confusion and spoke softly. “Actually, your dad’s health hasn’t been good these past two years.” I sneered, “What does that have to do with me?” I looked away, refusing to look at Arthur in the rain. She wasn’t angry, just smiled and continued. “Haven’t you noticed? There’s always a first-aid kit at home. The medicine you need has never been out of stock.” “Your dad prepared that for you, knowing you always get hurt. The bruise medicine has never been empty.” “Leo, your dad’s health is poor, stop making him angry.” “If he lives a couple more years, you’ll be comfortable for a couple more years.” I didn’t speak, my gaze falling on Arthur. He stood tall, shoulders broad. Aside from a slightly pale complexion, he showed no signs of illness. “How he is has nothing to do with me.” “But you’d better pray Arthur lives a couple more years, otherwise who’s going to raise your illegitimate child?” Mia touched up her lipstick in the mirror, her smile unchanged: “Don’t worry, for the child’s sake, I will.” A lump formed in my throat, I couldn’t swallow it down or spit it out. I really felt it wasn’t worth it for my mom. Why does she get everything, while my mom gets nothing? I gritted my teeth in hatred. I wanted to ask Arthur if he ever regretted losing my mom. But on second thought, he wouldn’t. He’s cold-blooded, only caring about profit. Looking up, Arthur was walking towards the car. I clenched my fists, looked away, and didn’t mention the previous topic. Arthur got in the car and handed me a bag of medicine. Iodine, anti-inflammatories, cotton swabs, band-aids… I sharply noticed him stuffing a box of painkillers into his pocket. I looked away and didn’t ask him. I thought, in his other home, that illegitimate child would care about him. He doesn’t need me. 8. After taking a shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and dried my hair. A light rain fell outside the window. I could only see the taillights of Mia’s car speeding away. I looked at the pile of medicine on the window sill, a bit puzzled. I simply kicked off my slippers and lay on the bed, looking up. “Auntie System, what do you think Arthur means by this? Is he caring about me?” “This is too weird! I’d rather he gave me a few slaps to get it over with.” Auntie System was silent for a moment, her electronic voice intermittent: “I don’t know either.” “Sigh, just apply some medicine and go to sleep early.” “Leo, no matter what, your dad won’t harm you.” I nodded and applied medicine to my facial injuries in front of the mirror. I couldn’t reach the injuries on my back, so I just ignored them. “Leo, your back is a bit swollen, let your dad come over and help you.” I lay on my stomach and shook my head, “Forget it, Arthur isn’t that kind-hearted.” “It’s okay, Auntie System. It’ll be fine tomorrow, don’t worry about me, go to sleep early.” I was so sleepy I could barely open my eyes. I didn’t hear what Auntie System said clearly, just mumbled a response. 9. Outside the door, separated by a wall, Arthur stood holding the doorknob for a long time. He pushed open the door; Leo was already asleep. The medicine on the table hadn’t been put away, left in a mess. The window wasn’t closed either. Arthur walked over and gently closed the half-open window. Through the warm light, his gaze fell on Leo little by little. This child, usually like a little demon, was only quiet when he was asleep. The little demon lost all his energy, sprawling on the bed. His back was covered in wounds, some deep, some shallow, making Arthur frown. Arthur walked over, half-crouching by the bed, using a cotton swab to treat the wounds on his back bit by bit. Some wounds, with red flesh exposed, were already oozing pus after being caught in the rain. It hurt him just to look at it. He didn’t know how this child managed to hold back his cries of pain. Frowning, he finished applying the medicine and put band-aids over the wounds. After a good while, he packed away the medicine bottles. He reached out to cover Leo with the blanket. The blanket had barely touched Leo’s legs when it was kicked away. Leo lay on the bed, his brow, which closely resembled Arthur’s, furrowed tight. He’s so big now, yet still doesn’t like being covered by a blanket. Arthur watched quietly for a while, then suddenly smiled. He remembered a long, long time ago, when Leo was just over a year old. At that time, Leo was just learning to walk, had no hair, and waddled like a little monster. Every night, he would keep his big eyes wide open, refusing to sleep. As soon as his body touched the bed, he would wail. Arthur looked at the red-faced crying child and pondered for a long time. He didn’t know where this child’s “off” switch was. Finally, Arthur strapped him into a car seat and drove slowly along empty roads. Feeling the wind. The little guy would smile in his car seat. Smiling so hard snot bubbles popped out. Evil little monster. That’s what Arthur called him. Later he found out, the child was afraid of the heat and feeling smothered. During that time, Arthur would lay the child by his waist to sleep, without a blanket. When the child got cold, he would snuggle up to him. His little hands clutching Arthur’s pajamas tight, his little feet pressing hard against his waist. At those times, Arthur would scoop the little guy into his arms and gently cover him with the blanket. The little guy would use his arm as a pillow, his little mouth slightly open, revealing one tiny tooth, sleeping incredibly soundly. Arthur looked at Leo on the bed for a long, long time, his eyes soft. Seventeen years passed in a flash, and the little monster has grown this big. Fearless of heaven and earth. Even when hurt, he doesn’t know how to cry. Arthur tugged the blanket, avoiding the wounds, and gently laid it over Leo. The warm light went out. The door closed. The room was plunged into darkness. In the silence, I buried my face in the pillow for a long, long time. My heart was in knots. I should hate him. He’s a bastard. He’s the reason my mom didn’t want me anymore. They said my mom was a shrew who once beat Arthur from a street punk into an honor student with a rolling pin. Later, it was also my mom who managed Arthur, guiding him step by step to become the CEO of a listed company. But he loved to play. He had more business dinners, drank more alcohol, and had more women around him. My mom caught him a few times, but as time went on, she stopped caring. Even when Arthur drank himself into a gastric bleed, she didn’t care. That year, Arthur achieved success and fame; he had everything. Except my mom. I should hate him. He lost my mom. But my heart just aches. I cried for a long time, falling asleep in a damp patch. I don’t know how much time passed, but an electronic voice sounded, a very, very soft female voice. She sounded like she was sighing, her voice choked with emotion. “Arthur, why are you… so harsh on the child…”

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