Category: English

The day my left eye was finally set to receive a cornea transplant and regain sight, the hospital suddenly informed me that the donor’s family had withdrawn their donation. I was so shocked I fell from the hospital bed and cut my head open. My sister, Lily, walked in with a smirk on her face. “Stella, did the hospital just call to cancel your surgery? Hahaha!” “I told the donor’s family you were faking blindness — just as a joke, you know.” My vision blurred as I screamed in despair. “Why would you do this? Because of your joke, I might never see again!” My mother, Mary, gently stroked Lily’s back and scolded me in a soft voice. “Could you keep it down? You still have one good eye, don’t you? Just wait for the next chance.” Watching their tender mother-daughter scene, I suddenly felt the absurdity of it all had no bounds. Later, Lily was diagnosed with kidney failure. The whole family went bankrupt waiting for a kidney donor. Right before she went into surgery, I smiled at the doctor and said. “Lily told me she’s given up on treatment. She wants to give her kidney to the old man in the next bed!”

I accepted Lily’s “joke.” I climbed out of the hospital bed, pressed my hand against my bleeding forehead, and rushed out of the room. The hallway was packed with people. My left eye could barely see anything, and my right eye’s peripheral vision could only make out blurry shapes. I felt my way along the wall, step by step, toward the Organ Donation Coordination office. I had to find those donor family members. The cornea hadn’t been transported yet — maybe there was still time. “Stella, slow down! With your eyes, you’ll fall!” Lily called out loudly. I ignored her and quickened my pace. The donor family was a couple in their fifties. Their son had died from traumatic brain injury in a car accident. He’d signed an organ donation agreement before his death. I’d been waiting for this cornea for three years. The day the match came through, I cried all night under my covers. They were sitting on the bench outside the coordination office. I dropped to my knees with a thud. “Sir, ma’am, please — I’m really going blind.” “I’m not a con artist. My medical records are all here. You can verify everything with the doctors.” I gripped the bench armrest. “Please don’t cancel the donation. This is my last chance.” The man pulled his wife back half a step. “Your sister already told us — you’re not really blind at all.” “My son’s corneas aren’t meant for scammers.” He clenched his fists. “Do you have any idea how hard this decision was for us?” “And you’re using my son’s organs as a tool to scam money?” I shook my head desperately, tears mixing with blood streaming down my face. “No, I’m not lying, I really am —” Lily caught up and crouched down, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Sir, ma’am, I’m so sorry about this.” “Stella’s always been like this. At home, she pretends she can’t see to get out of chores.” She suddenly covered her mouth. “Oh… I shouldn’t have said that.” “Stella’s actually pretty pitiful. She’s just gotten used to using her bad eyes to take advantage of people.” Her gaze shifted away. “Like that welfare fraud thing before… never mind, I shouldn’t say more.” “Welfare fraud? You committed welfare fraud too!” The man pointed at my nose. “My son is dead. We’re donating his organs to save people who truly need them!” “Not to be wasted on scammers like you!” The woman grabbed her husband’s arm. “Let’s go. We need to find the coordinator. We’d rather not donate this cornea at all than give it to her.” I knelt on the floor, mouth open, unable to utter a single word. Footsteps approached from behind. Mary had arrived. I turned my head. “Mary, please tell them I really can’t see!” “Just say something for me!” Mary pulled me up and brushed off the dust. “Enough, enough. Stop making a scene.” She turned to the couple with an apologetic smile. “Sir, ma’am, I apologize on behalf of my older daughter.” “This child has loved making up stories since she was little. Sorry for startling you.” “My younger daughter just speaks her mind too honestly. She told the truth.” The couple walked into the coordination office and slammed the door shut. A nurse approached with files. “Family of Stella Smith? The coordination office just sent notice.” “The donor party has signed the final refusal form.” She opened the file to check the records. “According to the sequence, the cornea will be transported to the next matched patient within thirty minutes.” “I’m very sorry. There’s nothing more we can do.” Lily sighed behind me. “Stella, see? It’s all because your credibility is so bad.” I said nothing. Blood dripped from my brow onto the hospital corridor tiles. One drop, two drops. I stood there for a long time. Long enough for the cornea that should have been mine to be placed in a transport container and wheeled past me. I couldn’t see anything clearly, but I heard the wheels rolling across the floor. That was the last time I would ever come close to light.

Back in the ward, I sat on the edge of the bed without saying a word. Lily leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me. “Come on, Stella, don’t be like this. You’re making it seem like I hurt you or something.” Lily pouted. “I really didn’t know that family would react so badly.” “I just said it casually. Who knew they’d take it seriously?” She walked over to the bed. “Besides, think about it — it’s not like both your eyes are blind.” “Just wait a bit longer. There’ll definitely be another cornea.” I didn’t have the energy to argue with her. My father, John, came in from outside holding a payment receipt. He glanced at the bandage on my forehead, then looked down at the receipt. “The pre-surgery examination cost twelve thousand dollars this time. Since the cornea surgery didn’t happen, can we get a refund?” Mary shook her head. “I asked. They won’t refund it.” John slammed the receipt on the bedside table. “Twelve thousand dollars down the drain!” “If you’d offended fewer people out there, would Lily have said those things to them?” I looked up at him. “John, those are my eyes.” “I know they’re your eyes.” John cut me off. “But think about it — Lily just made a joke, and this is what happened to you?” “Don’t you bear any responsibility yourself? If you’d been nicer to Lily normally —” “Enough, enough.” Mary patted Lily’s back. “Let’s not fight, family. Lily didn’t mean it.” “Stella, calm down. If we can’t do the left eye for now, just rest it. We’ll wait slowly for next time.” Lily nodded and burrowed into Mary’s arms. I watched their mother-daughter embrace and suddenly remembered something. “Mary, the wound on my forehead keeps hurting. A bandage isn’t enough — it needs stitches.” Mary didn’t even look up. “What stitches? It’s not like you broke an arm.” “You’ve always exaggerated things since you were little.” That night, the wound on my forehead started to feel hot. The next day when I woke up, the entire right side of my face was swollen. I told the nurse my head hurt unbearably. The nurse removed the bandage. “The wound is seriously infected. Why didn’t you get it treated earlier?” “This won’t work. We need to do debridement immediately, and you need an eye nerve examination.” When the test results came back, the attending physician called my parents into the office. I couldn’t hear what they said. But when my parents came out, Mary’s eyes were red. She glanced at me and spoke. “The doctor said the infection spread into your orbital cavity.” “Your right eye’s optic nerve… is damaged.” I froze. “What does that mean?” “It means your right eye is going blind too.” My left eye had started degenerating three years ago. Now it only had a faint light perception. My right eye was my last light. “That’s impossible — my right eye was fine — just because I bumped it?” The doctor came out holding the report. “The infection spread from the wound to the optic nerve, causing inflammation.” “If we’d done debridement and anti-inflammatory treatment immediately, it wouldn’t have developed to this point.” “But you waited an entire day.” He looked at my parents. “Why didn’t the family bring her in for treatment right away?” My parents were silent for two seconds. Lily sat on a chair in the hallway, legs crossed, eating yogurt. “Well, Stella’s always made mountains out of molehills. How were we supposed to know this time it was real?” No one responded to her. I sat in the examination room, watching the last bit of light perception in my eyes slowly dimming. Not even the last faint glimmer of light — no one was willing to help me keep it. I gripped the bed sheet tightly. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I was just thinking about one thing — something I would never have considered before.

My right eye’s vision dropped to near-total blindness within two weeks. The doctor said that with orbital decompression surgery combined with anti-inflammatory treatment, I might be able to preserve light perception. John asked, “How much?” “About eighty thousand dollars initially.” John said nothing. Mary said, “Where would we get that kind of money? We borrowed the money for Stella’s cornea surgery.” “We still haven’t paid it back.” She glanced at Lily, then at me. “Stella, get discharged for now. Rest at home. Every day we can save counts.” I was discharged. Standing at the hospital entrance, it was raining. I couldn’t tell if what was ahead was a road or stairs. I stepped out and immediately missed a step. I fell hard on the ground. I got up, walked less than ten steps, and crashed into a trash can. My knees and palms were covered in scrapes. My parents left right after dropping me at the hospital entrance. Lily didn’t come. I crouched in the rain, suddenly remembering many things. In high school, I worked part-time while studying. With my bad eyes, I couldn’t find normal part-time work, so I went to help at a massage parlor for the blind off campus. I washed towels and mopped floors. Lily came to pick me up from school once. The next day, she went around telling everyone with a smile. “Stella works at one of those massage parlors off campus. You know what I mean, right?” My classmates started avoiding me. The way the boys looked at me completely changed. The homeroom teacher called me into the office. In front of other teachers, she asked me. “Stella Smith, are you engaged in inappropriate work after school?” I said no, I was just helping with odd jobs at a massage parlor for the blind. The teacher said, “That’s not what Lily says.” Later, I had my first boyfriend. The boy knew about my bad eyes. Every day after school, he held my hand and walked me home. He said it was okay — he could be my eyes. After Lily found out, she asked the boy out for coffee. She stirred her straw. “That massage parlor where Stella works doesn’t just do massages — they provide special services.” “Plus, her eye condition is hereditary. Your future children will go blind too.” The next day, the boy blocked me on everything. I begged him to let me explain. I sent him dozens of messages. All of them went unanswered. I went crying to confront Lily. She rolled her eyes. “I just said it casually. If he believed it, is that my fault?” “Bottom line is he didn’t love you enough.” Mary tossed the vegetables she’d picked into a basin. “Lily’s not wrong. If he was truly committed, would a few words break you up?” “You’re so grown up and still dating? What about your studies?” Every time, they told me to be magnanimous, blamed me — a blind person — for caring about these things. I got up from the rain and felt my way home through the darkness. From that day on, I never mentioned my eyes to anyone again. And I stopped holding expectations of anyone. I put on sunglasses and went to work at the massage parlor for the blind. Three thousand dollars a month. I kept fifteen hundred and gave the rest to my family. My parents actually thought I’d finally matured. Lily occasionally came to the shop to see me and mock how little I earned. I smiled and agreed. I was waiting. One year and three months later, Lily suddenly collapsed at home. She was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with bilateral kidney failure, late stage. She needed a transplant. Mary cried in the hospital hallway, calling everyone to borrow money. She went through every relative and friend in her contacts. John sold the family car, then listed our small two-bedroom apartment with a realtor. They scraped together just enough for compatibility testing and preliminary treatment. Then came the wait for a kidney donor. They waited three months. During those three months, Lily’s temper grew worse and worse. She smashed a water glass in front of the attending physician. “What kind of garbage hospital is this! I’m dying and you can’t find one faster?” My parents always stood beside her. Mary hugged her with heartache. “Sweetheart, I know you’re suffering.” And every day after work, I took a two-hour bus ride to the hospital. I brought her meals, stayed overnight, wiped her down. Sometimes Lily would look me over. “Stella, do you think this is all your life will ever be?” “Eyes gone blind, massaging people’s feet — what’s the point of you being alive?” I smiled faintly. “Yeah, there’s no point, so you have to get better.” “The family’s counting on you.” She was satisfied with my answer. She had no idea that every time I came to the hospital, I wasn’t just bringing her meals.

After three months and nine days of waiting. One afternoon, the attending physician rushed through the ward door. “Family of Lily Smith, we’ve matched a donor kidney in the same city.” “Perfect compatibility. We can schedule the surgery.” The room went silent for a second, then erupted in loud crying. Mary held Lily and sobbed. John crouched in the corner, hands covering his face, shoulders shaking. Lily turned to look at me. “Stella, see? God still loves me.” She wiped her tears. “Forget about your cornea. You’ve already adapted to darkness anyway.” “But I’m still young. I can’t die.” I sat on the caregiver’s chair beside her bed and smiled at her. “Yeah, you’re really lucky.” I picked up a comb and brushed her hair. She closed her eyes and hummed a tune. The surgery was scheduled for three days later. During those three days, I was more gentle than I’d ever been. I bought Lily her favorite brownie, trimmed her nails. At night I chatted with her until she fell asleep, then collapsed on the caregiver bed myself. Mary patted my shoulder. “Stella, once Lily’s body recovers, she definitely won’t forget you.” I nodded without speaking. On the day of surgery, nurses came early for pre-op preparation. At ten o’clock, the transport gurney arrived. The nurse asked, “Which family member will accompany her to the operating room door?” The nurse flipped through another page. “Sorry, we’re still short forty-eight thousand dollars on the surgery deposit.” “A family member needs to go to the first-floor manual payment window.” My parents looked at each other, then both looked at me. “Stella, you watch Lily. We’ll go downstairs to pay. We’ll be quick.” I nodded. “Don’t worry, Mary. I’m here.” My parents hurried off. Only Lily on the gurney, the nurse, and I remained in the hallway. The operating room door stood open, light streaming through. Lily clutched the edge of the sheet and turned to look at me. “Stella, do you think something might go wrong with the surgery?” I crouched down and leaned close to her ear. “No, don’t be scared.” She let out a long breath. Just then, the old man from the next bed was wheeled out by his family. He also had kidney failure and had been admitted six months before Lily. But he’d never received a donor kidney. The old man’s wife sat beside the gurney, writing something — a will. The old man spoke in fragments while his wife wrote it down. “Leave the old house to our grandson… the bankbook is in the second drawer…” With each sentence, his wife lowered her head to wipe tears. Lily glanced over and frowned. “How unlucky. Can’t you do this somewhere else instead of in the hallway? It’s ruining my mood.” The old man’s wife heard her, looked up, but said nothing. She quietly moved the gurney to the other side. I looked at that scene too. Then I stood up and stopped the nurse who was about to wheel Lily into the operating room. “Wait.” Lily froze and looked up at me. “Stella? What are you doing?” “Give me some encouragement. Say something nice so I can go in with peace of mind.” I took off my sunglasses. I couldn’t see anything clearly anymore. But I could hear Lily lying on the gurney. Completely defenseless, waiting for me to send her on her final journey. I smiled. This time, I truly smiled. I turned toward where I heard the nurse. “Excuse me, Lily just told me she doesn’t want the surgery anymore.” “Give the kidney to the old man in the next bed.”

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My parents gave me a bank card and transferred twenty thousand dollars into it every month without fail. Everyone envied me for having such a wonderful family. But they never told me the password. I couldn’t even afford meals at school, so I applied for financial aid. My mother, Linda Harrison, stormed into the school and slapped me across the face. “We give you twenty thousand a month and you’re still not satisfied? Playing poor for attention, you ungrateful brat!” Later, I developed a perforated ulcer from starvation and lay in the operating room, desperate for money to save my life. I begged them to tell me the password. My mom just laughed coldly over the phone. “I already told you the password. You just forgot it yourself. Want money to go out and fool around? Not a chance!” I hung up, utterly heartbroken as I teetered on the edge of death. Three years later, my brother crossed a powerful heir and desperately needed that money to save his life. My mom knelt on the ground, crying and begging me to withdraw the money from the card. I threw the bank card on the floor and smiled. “Linda, you forgot—you never told me the password. This money can’t be withdrawn.”

“Ms. Anderson, Summer’s financial aid application shouldn’t be approved.” My classmate Ryan stood at the podium, announcing loudly. The entire class’s eyes instantly focused on me. I clutched the filled-out application form, my fingers tightening bit by bit. Ryan pointed at me, his tone full of contempt. “Her parents transfer twenty thousand dollars to her account every month. She even posted screenshots on social media. Now she’s pretending to be poor to scam financial aid. It’s absolutely shameless!” Ms. Anderson frowned at me. “Summer, what’s going on here?” I took a deep breath, my voice dry. “Ms. Anderson, I really don’t have any money in my account. I don’t even have money for food today.” As soon as I finished speaking, the classroom door was shoved open. My mom stormed in wearing high heels. She walked straight up to me and raised her hand. A crisp slap rang out. I was knocked sideways, half my face instantly numb. “How did I give birth to such an ungrateful brat!” My mom pulled a bank card from her purse and threw it hard at my face. “We transfer twenty thousand dollars to you every month, and you still run to the school to apply for poverty assistance. Are you deliberately trying to humiliate the Harrison family?” The bank card fell to the ground with a clear sound. The whole class erupted. “Oh my God, twenty thousand a month and she’s pretending to be poor?” “This girl is so fake. She’d do anything for that aid money, even throw away her dignity.” “Disgusting. If I had parents this good, I’d be smiling in my sleep.” Hearing the surrounding discussion, a flash of smug coldness crossed my mom’s face. I stared hard at the bank card on the ground, my eyes stinging. Yes, she did transfer twenty thousand every month. But she never told me the password. I bent down to pick up the card, held it in front of her, my voice trembling. “You transfer twenty thousand every month, but did you ever tell me the password?” My mom’s expression changed, her eyes flickering, but she quickly raised her voice. “I already told you the password! You just have a bad memory and forgot! Now you’re blaming me?” “You told me?” I stared at her, advancing step by step. “I tried my birthday, I tried your birthday, I tried our home phone number—all of them came up as errors! Do you dare repeat the password in front of the whole class right now!” My mom was forced back a step. Humiliated and furious, she pointed at my nose. “How dare you talk back! The password is your brother’s birthday. I’ve told you that countless times!” “Summer, you’re just used to spending money like water. When you run out, you play the victim. How did I raise such a useless daughter!” After speaking, she turned to Ms. Anderson with an expression of deep regret. “Ms. Anderson, we’ve spoiled this child. Please don’t approve any aid for her. We can’t afford this kind of embarrassment.” Ms. Anderson’s gaze turned completely cold. “Summer, I’m very disappointed in you. Take the application back.” I stood there, watching my mom’s arrogant departing figure, my chest feeling like someone had just squeezed it hard. She was lying. I had tried my brother Ethan Harrison’s birthday. It didn’t work at all. This card was just a leash to keep me chained. In everyone else’s eyes, I was a rich girl with twenty thousand dollars a month in allowance. But only I knew that I couldn’t touch a single cent of that twenty thousand.

At lunch in the cafeteria, I only had three dollars left in my account. I bought a plain roll and carried a bowl of free soup to sit in a corner. Before I’d taken two bites, a bottle of ice water suddenly slammed onto my table. Soup splashed all over me. I looked up into the mocking face of Ethan Harrison. Standing beside him was the fake heiress my parents had adopted, Chloe Harrison. Chloe wore designer clothes from head to toe, covering her mouth as she laughed delicately. “Summer, why are you eating this kind of stuff? Doesn’t Linda give you twenty thousand a month?” Ethan snorted coldly, snatched my roll, threw it on the floor, and ground it under his foot. “Stop playing pitiful! Linda said you caused a scene at school today. She sent me to teach you a lesson.” I stared at the trampled roll on the floor, anger suddenly flaring inside me. I stood up abruptly, staring hard at him. “Ethan, tell me the password.” “What password?” He froze for a moment, then sneered. “How should I know the password? Linda said you’re a spendthrift with no self-control. The money in that card is being saved for you. She’ll give it to you when you really need it.” “I need it now!” My voice was hoarse, almost shouting. “I can’t even afford to eat, and I’m a week late on my dorm fees. How am I supposed to survive!” Chloe sighed, putting on a concerned expression. “Summer, stop pressuring Ethan. If you really don’t have money, I’ll lend you a hundred dollars.” She pulled a bill from her twenty-thousand-dollar handbag and tossed it on the table like she was giving charity to a beggar. Students around us pointed and whispered. “Chloe is so kind. She treats her sister so well.” “Summer is so ungrateful. She has such a good sister but always has that sour face.” I stared at that hundred-dollar bill, my fingers tightening bit by bit. I didn’t take the money. I turned and walked out of the cafeteria with my back straight. That afternoon, my advisor called me to her office. “Summer, if you don’t pay your dorm fees today, you’ll have to move out tonight.” I opened my mouth but couldn’t say a single word. Bank card: one dollar and fifty cents. PayPal: two dollars and thirty cents. Combined, I couldn’t even rent a bed. I stood in the hallway and called my parents over a dozen times. No answer. I opened my mom’s Instagram. She’d just posted a minute ago. “Bought Chloe a new necklace. Girls deserve to be spoiled.” The photo showed a diamond necklace worth thirty thousand dollars. I stared at that post, my eyes gradually stinging. So they weren’t broke, and they weren’t stingy. They just didn’t want to spend money on me. That night, the dorm supervisor kicked me out. It was pouring rain outside. I dragged my suitcase down the empty street. My stomach cramped with pain. I squatted by the roadside, cold sweat instantly soaking my back.

The pain in my stomach felt like a knife twisting inside. I clutched my abdomen, trembling even as I breathed. My stomach problems came from long-term starvation. These past few years, refusing to bow to them, I’d worked multiple jobs and often ate only one meal a day. I leaned against a bus stop sign, shaking as I dialed my father’s number. The phone rang for a long time before someone answered. I could hear the TV in the background. “David…” My voice was so weak I could barely hear it myself. “My stomach hurts really bad. I might not make it. Tell me the password. I need to go to the hospital…” Two seconds of silence on the other end. Then my dad’s impatient cursing came through. “Summer, will you ever stop! Pretending to be poor at school during the day, pretending to be sick at night! Do you have to push us to death before you’re satisfied!” My throat tightened, tears instantly streaming down. “I’m not pretending… it really hurts…” “Then deal with it!” My dad cut me off mercilessly. “Linda said you just want to scam money to go out and party. I’m warning you, don’t even think about touching a cent of that money!” With that, he hung up directly. Listening to the dial tone on my phone, I felt a chill shoot from my feet to my head, my entire body going cold. These were my biological parents. I writhed on the ground in pain, my vision growing increasingly blurred. I don’t know how much time passed before a taxi stopped in front of me. The driver saw my condition and quickly helped me into the car, rushing me to a nearby hospital. In the emergency room, the doctor did a preliminary examination, his expression grave. “Acute gastric perforation. You need surgery immediately. Go pay the five-thousand-dollar deposit first.” Five thousand dollars. I lay on the hospital bed, in too much pain to even straighten my back. I grabbed my phone and went through every lending app. Because I was a student with no stable income, all my credit limits were zero. I bit my lip and dialed home again. This time Chloe answered. “Summer, what’s wrong at this late hour? Linda and David are already asleep.” Her voice was sweet and dripping with smugness. I bit my lip hard, quickly tasting blood in my mouth. “Put Ethan on the phone.” There was rustling on the other end, then Ethan’s voice came through. “Middle of the night, what are you freaking out about now?” I took a deep breath, my voice hoarse. “Ethan, I’m in the hospital. Acute gastric perforation requiring surgery. Tell me the password. I’ll pay you back.” Ethan laughed mockingly. “Gastric perforation? Who are you trying to fool? You were standing in the cafeteria yelling at me this afternoon.” “I’m not lying!” I got agitated, trembling all over from the pain. “The doctor says they can’t operate without payment. I’m really dying!” Silence on the other end. Then my mom’s voice came through, thick with annoyance. “Just tell her! Isn’t she just trying to scam money? Tell her the password is Chloe’s birthday!” “Take the money and get lost. Don’t call here bothering us again!” The phone was slammed down. I stared at the darkened screen, tears silently streaming down.

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My mom told me to go drop something off for my brother’s girlfriend. I pushed the door open and walked in. Only to see a gorgeous man, half-naked, with a tight, chiseled six-pack. I didn’t understand, but I fully supported it. I stammered, tears welling in my eyes, “H-hello, sister-in-law!” My brother’s ghostly voice sounded from behind me: “Very polite, but your sister-in-law is in the back.” Me: ??? 01 What a massive misunderstanding! I violently spun around to face the beautiful features of my brother’s actual girlfriend. In an instant, my face turned beet red. I was so embarrassed I wanted to find a crack in the floor and dive right in. My brother grabbed me by the collar, his voice gritting through his teeth right next to my ear, “Evelyn, what the hell goes on in that brain of yours every day?” Then, he bent down, picked up a white T-shirt from the sofa, and threw it at the man without a second thought. “Put a shirt on, my girlfriend is staring.” A pang of sorrow hit my heart. I don’t know if my future sister-in-law was staring, but I definitely was. Mainly because I hadn’t looked long enough! The man let out a breathless chuckle. He casually pulled the shirt over his head. The cool droplets of water flicked from his wet hair accidentally landed on the back of my hand. “Why are you back so early?” My brother shot him a cold glare. “My mom called and said my sister was coming over. I was worried her wild imagination would convince her that a home invasion or something was happening, so I came back to make sure she was safe.” He then abruptly changed his tune: “I just didn’t expect—she’d imagine a male sister-in-law for herself.” The end of his sentence was dripping with absolute annoyance. I was being publicly executed and didn’t dare say a word in my own defense. The man, however, seemed highly amused, narrowing his eyes to look my brother up and down: “Alex, with your looks, even if my sexual orientation was mistaken, I wouldn’t waste my time on you.” “Relax.” 02 Clearly, this was how they normally interacted. And I had actually heard of this handsome guy’s name long ago. He was my brother’s best friend from college—Liam Reynolds. After graduating, my brother honorably became a corporate drone, while Liam, thanks to his outstanding performance over four years, successfully secured a spot in a graduate program at the top-ranked university in my area—State University. Originally, Liam had come to my brother to ask for help looking at apartments. Who would have thought that while passing by a coffee shop, a delicate girl would “accidentally” twist her ankle and bump right into Liam’s chest, spilling her coffee all over his jacket? The girl looked deeply apologetic: “I’m so sorry I ruined your jacket. Let’s exchange numbers, and I’ll compensate you, okay?” It was obvious she had ulterior motives. However, Liam, acting as the ultimate heartbreaker, expressionlessly pulled up his Venmo QR code: “That’ll be seven thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven dollars.” The girl’s face lost its color, her voice full of disbelief: “Are you robbing me for one jacket?” Liam simply pulled up his purchase receipt. After carefully verifying the amount, the girl played dumb and fled without looking back. My brother vividly recreated the scene for me, looking incredibly smug. “This guy is a neat freak. Since the coffee got on his clothes, and my rented place was nearby, I brought him up to take a shower. I even generously sacrificed my own clothes for him.” I shook my head and sighed, “That was close. He almost got a girlfriend.” It’s true what they say: when God opens a door for a handsome guy, he shuts a window. Clearly, the compensation was fake, and hitting on him was the real goal. My brother acted all deep, “You don’t get it. This guy has experienced scenes like this countless times during his four years of college.” “When school started, out of a whole closet full of clothes, there weren’t many left at the end of the semester that hadn’t been ‘accidentally’ spilled on.” That makes sense. There are many ways to pursue someone, but damaging their property is definitely the most unwise. I totally agreed and muttered under my breath, “That way of hitting on someone is so cliché. If it were me, I definitely wouldn’t do that.” However, this lighthearted joke fell into Liam’s ears. A subtle light flashed in his eyes, and his calm voice sounded from above my head: “So, how do you pursue people?” “I…” I was instantly speechless. I looked up and met his pitch-black pupils. His searching gaze held a hint of seriousness. Looking at this 360-degree flawless, handsome face right in front of me. My heartbeat suddenly— Skipped a beat. 03 The apartment Liam rented was right upstairs from my brother’s. The distance from the university campus and my house was only three miles. Although it was very close, whether at school or near my home, the number of times I “accidentally” ran into Liam was exactly zero. At the beginning of the new semester, everyone was busy with school stuff. This included the fact that I failed Calculus last semester, and then failed the makeup exam at the start of this semester. For a moment, I didn’t know whether to doubt my brain or my luck. Seeing me crying my eyes out, my roommate, Chloe, wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. To help me adjust my mood and get over the trauma of failing twice, Chloe took me to a party organized by her friends. They were all friends she had made in the college town. People the same age always have more to talk about, and everyone was having a great time. Except me. After four rounds of games, I had drank for three of them. Realizing my alcohol tolerance was reaching its limit, I wisely raised a white flag and chose the “Truth or Dare” penalty. A senior guy casually pointed to a dark figure in the far corner of a table. “Go ask that handsome guy if he wants to make out.” Absolutely wild. The atmosphere instantly heated to the extreme. I looked in the direction he pointed. The dim lights flickered, smoke swirled, and through the shifting silhouettes, I couldn’t clearly see the handsome guy’s face. But I could faintly deduce from his broad shoulders and the long, elegant fingers holding the glass— He had an extraordinary aura. Countless expectant gazes landed on me. I was nervous, even a little desperate, but I didn’t want to be a poor sport. It wasn’t like we were actually going to do it anyway. I steeled my resolve and stood up. To prevent showing any fear and killing the mood, I deliberately straightened my posture and marched over. The glass cabinets reflected my image, looking righteous and marching like a soldier. Until I walked right up beside him, closed my eyes, and mustered all my courage: “Hi handsome, wanna make out?” I was afraid of his answer, so my mouth moved at double speed, “No? Okay, never mind.” After saying that, I turned to leave. But right at that moment, a drunk person passing by stumbled and bumped hard into my back. I lost my balance. My whole body pitched forward, weightless. In a complete accident, I landed squarely on the man’s lap. In my panic, I looked up and met an incredibly striking yet very familiar face. My red lips brushed against his cheek, leaving a soft, ambiguous mark. The dim lights made his gaze towards me obscure. We were so close our warm breaths mingled. My heartbeat suddenly lost its rhythm. It wasn’t until a large, warm hand steadied my lower back that I finally snapped back to reality. My heart plummeted to the bottom of the ocean, my face ashen, ready to bid farewell to this beautiful world. I was doomed. I took the joke too far. I had harassed my brother’s best friend. 04 Every single hair on my body stood on end with stiffness. I was so embarrassed I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. But Liam didn’t seem to plan on giving me the chance to play dead. “Evelyn, who exactly did you want to kiss?” That casual sentence woke me up like a bucket of cold water. I bounced up like a spring, pressing my hands together in prayer. “Good brother, I just lost a game of dare. Please don’t tell my brother, okay?” His gaze swept over me. His deep, cold expression looked like he was thinking, but when he opened his mouth, his answer had nothing to do with my question. “You shouldn’t go around calling people ‘brother’.” “Understand?” In the dim environment, his deep voice seemed coated with a hint of seductive provocation. I inexplicably felt the air around me thin out. My heart was beating a little erratically. I nodded blankly, but when I spoke, I still sounded dazed and silly, “But brother, you have to…” Halfway through my sentence, I realized something was wrong and quickly retracted it. He turned his head away and crushed the half-burnt cigarette between his fingers. It made it impossible for me to see his obscure gaze clearly. But I heard a very faint chuckle from him. Probably because the alcohol was starting to eat away at my brain, my head felt even dizzier. “You’ve been drinking,” Liam stated flatly. But it wasn’t a question. To prevent him from telling my brother about my drunken embarrassment, I said stubbornly, “Just a little bit, but it’s nothing.” He didn’t seem to understand the subtext of my words. “Sit for a while. Your brother is coming over soon. You can have him take you back to school, or go home with him, either is fine.” “My brother?” That little bit of dizziness and unknown fluttering in my heart vanished instantly. I even suspected Liam was intimidating me. Threatening me. When he saw my brother, he was going to snitch on me hardcore. Saying I acted terribly when drunk. Saying I harassed him. My voice trembled slightly, “My brother can’t know I’m here. Before he gets here, I have to leave.” I was in such a rush that I bumped my calf hard against the corner of the table in my panic. My wrist was gently grasped by his palm. Warmth spread layer by layer. His voice seemed deep and comforting, “Don’t panic.” But the end of his sentence carried a hint of amusement, like he was watching a good show. “Little sister, it seems you’re a bit too late to run.” At the same time, a ghostly voice sounded from behind me. With a bit of gritted teeth: “Evelyn, you’ve really got some nerve. I can bump into you anywhere now?” Ugh— My life is over. 05 I think I’m sick. Ever since that night, Liam’s ambiguous smirk, his dark, shifting gaze, and the feeling of my lips brushing his cheek… there was too much. Like a spam pop-up ad constantly appearing in my mind, impossible to get rid of. At the same time, it was accompanied by a strange current zipping through my chest. An absurd and bold thought emerged: Could I be harboring inappropriate intentions toward my brother’s best friend? This realization made my face lose all its color once again. It wasn’t until my roommate Chloe excitedly grabbed my arm that I finally snapped back to reality. “Babe! They’re done!” “Did you see the guy in the blue jersey, number 9, in the crowd? That’s my crush! Isn’t he ridiculously handsome?” Saying that, she sighed, “It’s a pity I didn’t get to see him playing basketball. He must have looked incredibly attractive.” Today was the State University departmental basketball league. Chloe had gotten a guest pass early on, put on flawless makeup, and dragged me along to cheer for her crush. But because our Calculus professor suddenly rescheduled class, we missed the game. By the time we rushed over, the basketball game was almost over. Chloe happily pulled out her phone, the camera swaying as she aimed it at her crush’s face, but right as she pressed the shutter, she captured another figure. She gasped, “Liam Reynolds!” My teenage heart fluttered with a mix of emotions. All my absent-mindedness was instantly replaced by an inexplicable nervous energy. “Wh-what?” Chloe didn’t notice my strange reaction and excitedly handed her phone to me. In the photo, the man’s bangs were slightly messy, his facial bone structure was incredibly superior, his tall figure and clean, sharp muscle lines were visible under the white jersey. The setting sun cast a glow over him, making him look inexplicably radiant. My heart beat wildly. Beside my ear, Chloe was still excitedly educating me: “Don’t tell me you don’t know who he is? He’s practically the campus heartthrob at State University. The most handsome grad student. It’s just that he’s very aloof. Rumor has it the number of girls he’s rejected could circle the track three times. He’s an existence you can only admire from afar…” “Oh, I’m not talking to you anymore. My crush saw me! I’m going to bring him some water~” The power of love. The same girl who almost dies running the 100-meter dash in PE class… in the blink of an eye, she was already squeezing into the crowded field. She didn’t even bother to take her phone. My gaze fell back onto the phone screen. Just as the phone was about to go to sleep, my finger tapped the screen, accidentally zooming in on the picture. Those eyes, which looked deeply affectionate even when looking at a dog, almost filled the entire screen. It felt like he was looking right at me. The next second, those very eyes actually appeared right in front of me. “Secretly taking pictures of me?” I spun around in a panic, my hand trembling, and Chloe’s phone went flying through the air. Seeing it was about to go into freefall. I made a desperate grab for it. But the phone landed steadily in that man’s long, elegant hand. And I— Grabbed his strong, pulsing wrist. His palm was slightly warm. He tilted his head down, his eyelids slightly lowered. I don’t know if it was an illusion, but he seemed to smile. “Evelyn, are you trying to destroy the evidence?” The curve of his lips made my head spin. “No.” Chloe’s phone was the newest iPhone, worth over a thousand dollars. I breathed a sigh of relief, “How could I bear to?” But the moment the words left my mouth, I realized something was wrong again. I bit my lip. “I wasn’t secretly taking pictures of you.” “Oh.” His tone was flat, “I thought you were going to deny everything after we created a scandal.” Is there any possibility that I am a living person, not a corpse? What I feared most was the person involved coming to interrogate me. I braced myself, and under his burning gaze, I earnestly explained: “I didn’t do it on purpose. I didn’t see that it was you.” “Oh.” He sounded indifferent. “I thought you were going to refuse to take responsibility after we caused a scene.” Is there any chance I’m alive and not dead? What I dreaded the most was the person involved coming to confront me. I braced myself and quickly stated my position. “I will take responsibility, but I don’t know how to make it up to you.” After all, the whole school is talking about it now. I felt a bit frustrated. “I’m sorry, I ruined your reputation…” I sighed dramatically as I said it. But looking up, I met his slightly surprised eyes. However, it was only for a moment before a spark danced in them. “Reputation? Ruined?” He enunciated the words slowly, repeating it once. What was a simple sentence from me suddenly seemed to hold countless deeper meanings. I bit my tongue, ready to argue, but the man looked at me seriously, looking as if the situation was grave: “It seems you really have to find a way to take responsibility for me.” 09 I looked up. In disbelief. Could such a good thing really happen? Twisting my fingers together, I felt a glimmer of anticipation. “How should I take responsibility?” But he didn’t respond to me. He just lowered his head and casually scrolled through his phone. It was as if the sentence that had me imagining things was just a casual remark from him. Probably just words spoken in the heat of the moment. Pushing down my disappointment, I was just about to try and save face. The next second, my phone buzzed. Immediately after, Liam calmly held his phone in front of me. On the lit screen, there was a brand new friend request. [I am Liam Reynolds.] “First, you have to accept the friend request.” Whether it was at the bar, in the public lecture, or accidentally rejecting his friend request, ultimately, I had acted recklessly. Thinking about it, as the first step of compensation, “Can I buy you a coffee?” He raised an eyebrow, almost without hesitation, “Sure.” While waiting for the coffee, I was genuinely curious. I tapped into his WeChat profile picture. His Moments feed was very clean, mostly reposted academic articles. The only photo related to life was one someone else had taken of him. It was a very casual angle, not posed at all, yet still so handsome it was hard to look away. Unlike me, whose massive Moments feed was always endless, documenting everything from birthday parties to my dog chewing up my slippers. I repeatedly zoomed in on that photo. Drooling. However, when I went to exit, my finger slipped, and I hit ‘like’! Help— Before I could undo it: “Evelyn.” He called my name softly. It was the most plain, deep tone, yet I always felt it sounded so good. Like a low chant. I clenched my fingers, feeling a bit shy, playing dumb: “What’s wrong?” Looking at someone else’s Moments isn’t a crime. He smirked, “I’m sitting right in front of you.” “Huh?” I think the way I slightly opened my mouth, not understanding why, must have looked incredibly stupid. That’s why he smiled so amiably. “If you want to look at me, just look up. Why take the roundabout route and look at my Moments?” “Or—” He paused slightly, “You want to get to know me?” Everything fell silent, with only the sound of my heart pounding. The one who falls first always loses their composure easily. In front of him, my novice status was too obvious. I didn’t know if he had seen through my teenage crush. But I always felt his smile held a deeper meaning. What did he mean by asking that? What did he mean exactly?! I tried to argue: “I… I was just thinking…” He was extremely patient: “Thinking what?” Thinking— Thinking about getting you. 10 I heard the sound of my own surrender. I gave up struggling. If I like him, I like him. If I like him, I should fight for him. Why should I force myself to give up? So what if he’s my brother’s best friend? If someone like my brother can be his best friend, why can’t someone like me be his girlfriend? So what if he’s out of my league? I want to try and see. After cheering myself up, I decided on a one-word strategy: Chase! Before I could even rack my brains to figure out where to start, my brother, with his loose lips, completely exposed the fact that I failed Calculus last semester while we were eating. My dignity, boo hoo hoo── So, my mom furiously kicked me and my books out of the house. Also caught in the crossfire was the fat dog who was happily eating. I rescued him during my freshman year. Before my brother could even enjoy the show, he received an order from our mom: “Make sure she gets some serious Calculus tutoring!” My brother looked shocked: ??? Wait, me? Tutor her? I was incredulous: ??? Wait, him? The dog… The dog, not understanding why, wagged his tail furiously, only wondering why his food bowl got thrown out too. Although I hated my brother for playing dirty, I also found it funny. That idiot tried to be clever and ended up shooting himself in the foot. But if I really relied on him to tutor me in Calculus, I’d probably fail again next year. However, that bit of disgust towards my brother was quickly shattered by some sweet thoughts. The moment I thought about Liam, who lived just one floor above my brother, I couldn’t help but let out a smug, villainous chuckle. How could this be considered a pathetic eviction? This is a heaven-sent opportunity! Liam lives right above my brother. The rabbit loves the grass near its burrow, the early bird gets the worm—perfect timing, perfect location, perfect people. My plan to win him over starts now! Liam has a habit of going for morning runs. So, the first step in chasing my future husband: accidentally “run into” him. Imagine the soft morning light, the spring breeze brushing our faces. After our run, we admire the beautiful morning scenery together. Romance and chemistry slowly heating up… It! Simply! Couldn’t! Be! Better! However, the ideal is plump, but reality is bone-thin. I had already run three laps around the apartment complex, and I hadn’t even seen Liam’s shadow. Starving, my body, unused to exercise, was truly running out of energy. Just as I was about to give up, a familiar, tall figure gradually became clear in the halo of light not far away. He was wearing a simple black athleisure outfit, his messy bangs falling casually over his forehead, radiating youthful energy. I stood on my tiptoes and waved, putting on an act with zero preparation, “What a coincidence, Liam.” I jogged towards him. But because I had run two miles without eating breakfast, my low blood sugar kicked in. In the moment my vision went black, I thought to myself, this is bad. However, the imagined scene of embracing the cold, hard ground didn’t happen. I fell into an embrace carrying a fresh, clean soap scent. Those hands gentlemanly held my shoulders. “Evelyn, is this your low blood sugar acting up? Let me take you to get some breakfast.” I originally wanted to say no need, I have a habit of carrying candy with me. But before the words could leave my mouth, in my gradually clearing vision, Liam’s incredibly handsome face up close also became clear. I swallowed hard, a greedy thought flashing through my mind. My hand, which was in my pocket holding the candy, let go. Let me just forget the fact that I can split a durian with my bare hands. The world still needs some delicate, helpless little white lotuses. I silently leaned a bit closer to him. My eyelashes fluttered, and I pinched my voice into a sweet, syrupy tone, “Thank you~ Liam.” But he looked panicked, “Is your low blood sugar this severe? You don’t even have the strength to speak. I’m taking you to the hospital.” Me: …

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I loved her. But that love was born out of ruin. My greatest joy in life was bullying her. I wanted to see her—so high and mighty, so untouchable—pinned beneath useless me, making a shattered expression. Later, I got bored. I wanted to start a new life, to get away from this deformed family. But before I could even board the flight out of the city, my vision went black. I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I was tied to a bed. Sloane stood by the edge, watching me. “You always agreed to whatever I did to you. Since that’s the case, can’t you just be a good girl and stay by my side?” “Riley, where else do you think you can run to?” 1. When I was ten, my mom brought a girl home. She said that from then on, she would be my sister. That was also the day I completely became a “defective product.” It was a weekend. I remember it clearly because I had just been sent to the principal’s office, and they called my parents. My mom rarely showed up in person, so when she walked into the office, I was actually happy. Because I hadn’t seen her in a long time. But I couldn’t smile for long. On the drive back from school, my mom’s face was completely blank. She didn’t say a single word to me the entire way. I would have preferred a beating when we got home, or at least a scolding. That would mean she still cared. But she said nothing. She just sat in the car in silence, as if I didn’t even exist. When we walked into the house, I saw a girl sitting in the living room. She was much taller than me, thin, with her hair tied in a ponytail. She wore a washed-out, faded uniform. She sat on the very edge of our expensive leather sofa, her back perfectly straight, hands resting politely on her knees. Hearing the door, she looked up, revealing a clean, delicate face. I froze in place. I hadn’t figured out why this girl was in my house. My mom explained the situation through her actions. She walked over and stood right next to her. “This is Sloane. She’ll be your sister from now on.” I didn’t say a word. Because I didn’t know what to say. A sister? Where the hell did I get a sister? I stared at the girl, and she looked back at me. Then she smiled slightly and called out softly, “Hey, little sister.” At that exact moment, with those words, I understood everything. I looked at my mom and her standing side by side. I didn’t say a word. I turned around, went back to my room, and slammed the door as loud as I could. Growing up, the phrase my mom said to me the most was: “Riley, you need to be a person of value.” I always kept those words in my heart, trying my hardest to be the “valuable person” my mom talked about. I worked myself to the bone to get straight A’s, just to earn a fleeting smile or a brief word of praise. But everything started to change after I got into a car accident in the third grade. That day, the chauffeur was driving as usual, and I was in the backseat looking at my spelling words. But then came a blinding white light, a deafening crash, and the world spun out of control. I completely lost consciousness. When I woke up, I didn’t know how long I had been asleep. I just heard my mom’s cold, rational voice outside the hospital room: “Since she’s not in critical condition, let’s discharge her tomorrow.” I had barely survived the crash thanks to my seatbelt. But after that, I lost interest in almost everything. Whether it was life or school. My mom quickly noticed something was wrong. She took me to see top therapists, but the feedback was always the same… “She’s perfectly healthy.” “There’s no underlying condition.” I will always remember coming out of the doctor’s office for the last time. She stood on the sidewalk in Manhattan, sighed, and checked her watch. Then she told me: “Take a cab home yourself.” After that, my mom never took me to see another doctor. But I knew. Even though she didn’t say it, that sigh made it all clear. She was saying: “Riley, you’re useless now.” Sloane was an underprivileged student my mom had been sponsoring. Her father passed away, her mother remarried and abandoned her, and she lived with her grandmother in poor conditions. My mom had sponsored her for three years. She found her obedient, sensible, mature, and academically brilliant. So, she decided to officially adopt her. My mom never discussed this with me. She didn’t even give me a heads-up. It was as if adding or losing a daughter in this house had absolutely nothing to do with me. I was just someone who lived in this mansion. I had no voting rights, no right to speak, not even the right to be informed. In her eyes, I was a failure. A useless daughter. So whether I knew about this or not wouldn’t change the outcome. Similarly, my feelings, my everything—none of it mattered in this house. I figured that out very early on. That night, I lay face down on my bed, burying my face in the pillow. I didn’t cry. At ten years old, I already rarely cried. I just thought: every mother in the world loves her daughter. Why doesn’t my mom like me? 2. I thought about it for a long time and came to a conclusion. It must be because I wasn’t good enough, so she needed another daughter. And Sloane was that “good enough” daughter. She was four years older than me. She was fourteen when she came to my house, just starting middle school. Her grades were shockingly good. My mom transferred her to the best private prep school in the city, and she ranked first in her grade on the very first exam. When my mom saw her report card, a look of absolute joy appeared on her face—a look I had never seen before. From the day I was born, she had never looked at me with those eyes. My mom transferred me out of my school and put me in the elementary school attached to Sloane’s prep school. I didn’t know what her reasoning was. Maybe she thought it was easier for the driver to pick us up together, or maybe she wanted Sloane to “rub off on me.” But whatever the reason, it made no difference to me. I was still completely apathetic. I went from being at the top of my old class to the dead bottom of the new one. I adapted to this new dynamic very quickly. I was still constantly getting calls sent home, but now, the person showing up was Sloane. Because my mom never had time. My mom was never available. She was a senior partner at a top-tier investment bank, leaving early and coming back late. Sometimes she’d be away on business trips for days. We had a housekeeper who cooked and cleaned, taking care of me and Sloane. From childhood, my mom’s style of parenting me was simple: Give me money, give me a school, give me a place to live. She didn’t care about the rest. I was just a project in her life—a failed project she had abandoned to focus on a new, much more promising one. That was Sloane. From then on, I started to hate Sloane. No, more accurately, I started to bully her. I bullied her in many ways. At first, I hid her things. Her backpack, her textbooks, her iPad. I hid them all. I wanted to see her get anxious. I wanted to see her panic, running around looking for things. I wanted to see her cry. But she never did. Every time, she would calmly find me, crouch down to my eye level, and say in that gentle voice: “Riley, do you have my math book? Could you give it back?” I glared at her and threw the book right at her face. She caught it, smiled slightly, and said, “Thank you.” Thank you? I threw a book at her face, and she thanked me? What a psycho. Sloane changed her first name and took our last name. I couldn’t even remember what her original name was. Maybe it was Chloe? Or Claire? It didn’t matter to me. What mattered was that she was now Sloane Sterling. She shared my last name. My mom’s last name. Her name was clearly printed on the family trust documents as the “Eldest Daughter.” She looked exactly like my real sister. Sometimes, I’d flip through the photo albums at home and look at pictures of our “family of three.” My mom, Sloane, and me. Sloane stood next to my mom, who had her arm around her shoulder. Both of them were smiling. I stood on the other side, a scowl on my face, looking like an outsider forced into the frame. I stared at that photo for a long time, then smashed the album onto the floor. She wasn’t my sister. She was an intruder, a “perfect product” bought to replace me. I hated her. I hated her gentleness, her patience, her perpetually calm demeanor. I hated her stellar grades, her maturity, her ability to satisfy my mom. I hated how she prepared my coffee and left it on the counter every morning. I hated how she brought me an umbrella when it rained. I hated how she stayed awake all night by my bed when I had a fever. Because all of it made me feel like she pitied me. She was pitying a defective product. She was using her goodness to highlight my badness. Using her perfection to prove my flaws. Later, my bullying escalated. I poured her expensive makeup down the toilet. I tore her meticulously prepared college application essays into shreds and threw them in the trash. I pulled the potted plant she had been growing up by its roots and threw it on the balcony to dry out in the sun. When she came back and saw the dirt and dead leaves all over the floor, she crouched down and picked it up piece by piece. Then she stood up and looked at me. I thought, this time, she has to snap. But she didn’t. She just sighed softly and said, “I took care of that plant for two years. What a shame.” Then she went back to her room to study. She never hit me, never yelled at me, never even raised her voice. She just looked at me with those quiet eyes, as if she could understand anything I did, as if no matter how I acted out, I was just a child throwing a tantrum. That look drove me insane. But I always felt she was faking it. 3. She had to know I was my mom’s biological daughter. She didn’t want to lose my mom as her benefactor, so she tolerated me. All her gentleness, all her patience, all her “goodness.” It was all just a survival strategy for someone living under another’s roof. She wasn’t genuinely good to me; she was flattering me. Because my last name was Sterling by blood, and she was just adopted. That thought gave me a twisted sense of balance. Yes, exactly. The reason she didn’t dare get mad at me was that she was terrified of losing everything she had. The elite school, the luxurious life, the wealthy adoptive mother, the bright future. Once I figured that out, any lingering guilt vanished. I bullied her with absolute peace of mind. Because she brought it upon herself. She chose to stay and play the role of the perfect sister. So she shouldn’t blame me for being merciless. This dynamic lasted for years. From when I was ten to eighteen. From my elementary school days to my high school graduation. From when she was an adopted girl living under our roof to when she got into an Ivy League school. And then, she entered my mom’s corporation, stepping up to take control of the conglomerate. Sloane became more and more formidable. She called the shots at the company, decisive and ruthless, managing thousands of employees. Even the seasoned executives in their forties and fifties respectfully called her “Ms. Sterling.” My mom grew increasingly satisfied with her, increasingly dependent on her. She bragged to everyone, “My daughter Sloane did this, my daughter Sloane did that,” her voice dripping with pride. And me? After barely graduating high school, I went to some third-rate college. In my mom’s eyes, I was completely useless mud that couldn’t be molded. My mom could easily have sent me abroad or pulled strings, but she didn’t even want to waste those “resources” on me. Which proved she had truly given up on me. She didn’t even bother mentioning me anymore. I was air. I was full of resentment. But that was fine. I had my own ways to vent. “She’s here for Ms. Sterling again…” When I walked into the corporate lobby with my hands in my pockets, looking like the world owed me a million bucks, the two receptionists immediately started whispering. Sure, this was how I looked every time I came to see Sloane. Ever since Sloane moved into my house, she had become my mom’s “real daughter.” After all these years, besides me, no one even knew Sloane was adopted. As for my mom… she probably wished she could rip my page out of the family trust just to bring her “precious daughter” closer. The entire conglomerate knew the CEO had a useless younger sister who idled her days away, had no skills, and whose only hobby was harassing her older sister at work. They assumed I came to ask for money. They were wrong. With full clearance, I took the private elevator straight to the top floor. This entire floor belonged to Sloane. It was dead quiet. She was the one in power now, spending her afternoons handling affairs from her office. When I pushed the door open, Sloane was sitting behind her desk, reviewing files. She wore wire-rimmed glasses and a sharply tailored black blazer. Her hair was pinned up, revealing a pale, slender neck. Hearing the door, she looked up at me. I walked straight over, bypassed the massive desk, and stood right in front of her. She leaned back in her chair, looking up at me. The eyes behind the lenses were as calm as water, as if she already knew what was about to happen. I reached out, snatched the glasses off her face, and tossed them on the desk. Then I leaned down, gripped her chin, and kissed her. She didn’t dodge. Or rather, she never dodged. My kiss was vicious, almost vengeful. I bit her lip, my tongue roughly forcing its way past her teeth. She was pushed back by the force of it, her leather chair letting out a soft creak as I took whatever I wanted. I hated this look of hers the most. As if nothing I did could cause even a ripple in her heart. I deepened the kiss, pressing my other hand against the top of her chair, trapping her completely between me and the leather. Her breathing finally hitched for a second, but that was it. When I pulled away, her lips were swollen from my biting, her lipstick smeared. She merely raised a hand, wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and cast her eyes down at the red smudge on her skin. Then she picked up her glasses and slowly put them back on. “Are you done? I need to work.” Her tone was completely flat. Exactly like when we were kids and I hid her notebook, and she’d calmly ask me “Where did you put it?” I stared at her, the anger in my chest unable to find an outlet. Or rather, I’d never been able to find an outlet for it. “No.” After saying that, I lowered my head and sealed her lips again. This time, I was even rougher, practically biting her. One hand gripped the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her pinned-up hair, tearing the hairpins out one by one. Her hair cascaded down, slipping cool and silky through my fingers. She still didn’t push me away. Even when I drew blood from her lip, she only frowned slightly. The taste of copper spread between our mingled breaths. When I tasted it, a twisted sense of gratification surged in my chest. I let her go, stood straight, and looked down at her. Her head was tilted back, her lip broken and bleeding. Her hair was a mess, her glasses sat crookedly on her nose, and I had pulled her blazer wide open at the collar. She looked thoroughly wrecked. Yet beneath that calm gaze, there was only a hint of resignation. She adjusted her messy hair and her collar. “Don’t make such a mess.” She didn’t even care about her bleeding lip. She only cared if her hair was ruined and her collar was buttoned properly. Always so composed. I pinched her jaw, forcing her to look at me. “Sister.” My voice softened, ending with a sickly-sweet lilt. I saw Sloane’s eyelashes flutter. Her expression paused for a split second before she pulled up that gentle smile. “What is it?” I only called her “sister” at moments like this. I knew she was drowning in her role as the “gentle older sister,” so I was more than happy to indulge her. Only in these specific moments, of course. I brushed my thumb over her smeared lipstick. “Getting kissed like this by your own ‘little sister’…” “Aren’t you a bit of a freak?” 4. She didn’t answer. She just turned her head to break my grip. Then she reached up to fix her collar, tucked her stray hair behind her ear, lowered her head, and went back to her documents. “There’s coffee and pastries on the table. Eat it yourself. Be a good girl.” She said it just like that. As if nothing had happened. I let out a cold scoff, threw myself onto the leather sofa, and started eating. She was like this every single time. After so long, I was used to it. I had no idea what went on in Sloane’s head, and I didn’t care to know. Ever since I turned eighteen, she and I had been trapped in this extraordinary, “deformed” relationship. It all started on my eighteenth birthday. They called it a coming-of-age party, but it was really just an excuse. My mom booked a ballroom at a luxury hotel and invited a bunch of her Wall Street friends and business partners. Everyone wore perfectly tailored smiles, offering their congratulations. But I knew they weren’t congratulating me. They were congratulating my mom. Congratulating Sloane on taking on more of the company. Congratulating the Sterling family on having a worthy successor. As for me, I was just a prop for the banquet. I kept a scowl on my face the whole time, holding a glass of champagne in the corner, watching my mom link arms with Sloane as they toasted table after table. “This is my eldest, Sloane. She’s helping me out at the firm now.” When my mom said that, her smile was brighter than any she had ever given me. Sloane stood beside her in a champagne-colored evening gown, her hair swept up in an elegant updo, wearing simple pearl earrings. She looked dignified and poised. Halfway through the banquet, I ditched the party and went to hang out with my own crowd. They weren’t really friends—just a bunch of rich kids like me with too much money and zero ambition, gathering to drink and waste away. When I arrived, they were already a round deep. Seeing me, they cheered and made me take three penalty shots. I didn’t say a word and downed three glasses of whiskey back-to-back. The hard liquor burned its way down my throat, making my stomach churn, but the burn felt good. I was annoyed. Not just because my mom treated me like nothing, but because of Sloane. “Riley, did you and Skylar break up?” My friend Liam leaned in. I glanced at him and sighed. “She’s going to study abroad. We ended it on good terms.” Liam looked stunned. “Huh? Just like that? You could go with her.” “She didn’t ask me to,” I shrugged. “Besides, my mom can’t even be bothered to look at me right now, let alone send me abroad. She’d just think I was wasting her money.” Liam went quiet. He probably couldn’t understand my mom’s parenting style. “How… how long were you guys even dating?” He quickly changed the subject to cut the awkwardness. “Three days.” “…….” Conversation over. I ended up being carried to the car by my friends. When I got out, I pushed the front door open, didn’t even take off my shoes, and stumbled into the living room, collapsing onto the sofa. The main lights were off; only a dim yellow nightlight glowed in the entryway. I lay there with my eyes closed. My head was spinning, and my stomach kept rolling. Then I heard footsteps. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who it was. For years, it was only ever her and me in this massive house. The footsteps got closer and stopped by the couch. I felt someone crouch down in front of me. “Riley.” “Why did you drink so much?” I didn’t open my eyes. I didn’t speak. I felt her stand up and leave, returning a moment later. Then, something cold pressed against my forehead. A towel. An ice-cold towel. She supported the back of my head with one hand and used the other to carefully wipe my forehead, cheeks, and jaw. “How much did you have? Does your stomach hurt? Want me to make you some hangover soup?” Her voice was laced with the perfect amount of concern. Exactly what a perfect older sister would sound like. But was she? She wasn’t. She was just too good at acting. She had played the role for nearly ten years; she probably believed it herself by now. Who did she think she was? Did she think putting on this act would make me grateful? Make me call her “sister”? “Don’t touch me.” I smacked the towel out of her hand. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move. I opened my eyes and saw her crouching by the couch, one hand still hovering in the air, maintaining the exact posture from when she was holding the towel. “Riley, you’re drunk. Let me help you to your room, okay?” She reached out, trying to help me up. At that exact second, the tight string in my brain snapped. “Cut the act!” I grabbed her wrist and yanked it hard. Caught off guard, she lost her balance and fell forward onto me. Sloane crashed onto my body, her hands bracing against the back of the sofa on either side of my head just in time to stop herself from crushing me. Her face hovered right above mine. Inches away. I saw her freeze. For a split second, that mask of hers cracked with shock. I stared at her. Stared at that perpetually calm, gentle face. At those eternally unbothered eyes. Whenever I was a mess, Sloane was always there, like she could accurately smell my impending emotional breakdowns and deliberately lean into the blast zone. Every word she said, every action she took, challenged my limits. I had tried so many ways to make her stay away from me, but she was completely unfazed. And now, looking at her face. 5. A crazy, impulsive thought exploded in my mind. I tipped my head up and kissed her. It was rough, totally devoid of skill, driven by a vengeful sort of malice. I waited. Waited for her to shove me away, to yell at me, to hit me. Waited for her to finally “snap.” But she didn’t move. Her lips pressed against mine—warm, soft, and trembling slightly. But she didn’t push me away. I opened my eyes. She was still in the same position, hovering over me, her eyes half-closed, eyelashes fluttering. Her breathing had grown erratic. Warm breath washed over my face, carrying a barely detectable tremor. She didn’t push me away. She even closed her eyes. The living room was dim, but I could still see the change in her face. A thin flush crept across her cheeks, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears, looking incredibly vivid under the glow of the nightlight. I was completely stunned. I knew Sloane indulged me. She never said no to me. But I never expected she would allow me to do this. And then, I smiled. In that moment, I felt an unprecedented rush of pleasure. The thrill of dominating her. The forever untouchable, perfectly composed Sloane. She was finally no longer that flawless “sister.” I had finally dragged her down into the mud. From that day on, this twisted game between us began. I would seek her out after drinking, crash into her office when I was in a foul mood, and push her bedroom door open in the dead of night. She never refused. Just like my “pranks” when we were kids. Whatever I did, she silently accepted. Oddly enough, since we started doing this, my hatred for seeing her lessened. Maybe it was just habit after all these years. But more likely, it was because I had finally found a sense of equilibrium within my own bitter resentment. And the key to maintaining that balance… Was this sick, intimate contact between us. I leaned back on her office sofa, ate half a plate of pastries, and drank two cups of black tea. The couch was soft, the sunlight was warm, and after eating my fill, I started feeling sleepy. I was too lazy to leave, so I just slouched down, closed my eyes, and planned to take a nap. It wasn’t like I had a job, meetings, or networking to do. My entire existence consisted of vast amounts of time I could just waste. If I ran out of money, I just asked Sloane. She was never stingy; she gave me whatever I asked for. From Sloane’s desk came the rustle of papers, occasionally punctuated by her talking on the phone. She spoke quickly, her logic razor-sharp, sounding like a completely different person from the one who talked to me. Listening to it, I drifted off. Half asleep, I heard a knock at the door. Sloane said, “Come in.” I didn’t bother opening my eyes, just rolled over and buried my face in a throw pillow. The door opened. Someone walked in. “Sloane.” A clear, masculine voice rang out, carrying just the right amount of familiarity. Sloane paused. “Parker. Can I help you with something?” “Don’t be a stranger, just call me Parker,” the man laughed. “I came specifically to see you today. Didn’t your mom mention it?” I squinted, peering through the gap in my arms. A young man stood in front of Sloane’s desk. He looked to be in his early thirties, wearing a sharply tailored dark grey suit, handsome and clean-cut. He looked exactly like a successful corporate elite. He was holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped in dark green paper. It looked expensive. Sloane glanced at the flowers but didn’t reach for them. “Parker, if there’s something you need, just say it.” “Why the rush? Your mom said you were free this afternoon, so I thought I’d wait for you to get off work and grab dinner. I know a great omakase place you’d love.” I froze. Who the hell was this? My drowsiness vanished instantly. I sat straight up on the sofa. The movement was loud. The man heard it, turned around, and clearly froze when he saw me. He evidently hadn’t expected someone else to be in Sloane’s office, let alone someone slouched on the couch with their shoes on, looking like they just woke up from a bender. His gaze lingered on me for a second before he smiled politely, turning back to Sloane with a questioning look. Sloane looked at me. “This is my sister, Riley,” she said. “Sister?” Parker obviously didn’t know Sloane had a sister. His expression slipped for a second, but he quickly recovered and nodded at me. “Nice to meet you, Riley. I’m Parker.” I ignored him. I leaned back on the couch, crossed my arms, and shifted my gaze from his face to Sloane’s, then back again. Sloane had no intention of elaborating. She lowered her eyes and went back to the file in front of her. “Parker, I’m busy tonight. Let’s take a raincheck.” “What could be so urgent? Your mom said you didn’t have any other plans,” Parker said with a smile, a hint of persistence in his voice. “It’s just dinner. It won’t take up too much of your time.” As he spoke, his eyes briefly flicked toward me. He was probably wondering why the “third wheel” wasn’t leaving. 6. I stared at him, then suddenly laughed. “Hey, sis,” I spoke up, my voice not loud, but clear in the quiet office. “Who’s this guy?” Parker’s brow furrowed slightly. My tone wasn’t exactly friendly. Sloane looked up at me. “Riley,” Parker spoke first. “Sloane and I have known each other for a bit. Your mother introduced us.” My mother introduced them. My mom was setting Sloane up with men? I turned my head and glared at Sloane. “Sloane,” Parker tried again. “Are you really not free tonight? It’s just dinner. I already made the reservation.” I didn’t wait for Sloane to answer. “She’s not free tonight.” Parker looked at me, a flash of genuine displeasure finally crossing his eyes. Sloane also looked at me. Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t say anything. I tilted my head, studying Parker. “She has plans with me tonight.” “Some other time, then.” He took a step back, walking to the door, then glanced back at Sloane. “I’ll get going. I’ll leave the flowers here. If you like them, I’ll bring more next time.” The door clicked shut. The office fell silent. I stared at that bouquet of Lisianthus. The white petals were pristine and beautiful. Sloane kept reading her files, completely unbothered. Like nothing had happened. I grabbed the bouquet, walked straight over to the trash can, and shoved it in. The flowers hit the bin with a dull thud. A few petals broke off and scattered on the floor. “Have the cleaning staff clear that out later.” Sloane looked up, glancing at the fallen petals, her tone perfectly flat. From start to finish, she remained entirely unfazed. But I wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “He’s decent looking. Rich family, I assume? Or Mom wouldn’t have given him the time of day.” “Riley, Mom just wanted me to network with him. It doesn’t mean anything.” Sloane’s tone was so soft. Whenever she spoke to me, there was always that underlying tone of “coaxing.” Like I was just a petulant child throwing a tantrum. I hated that attitude. “Doesn’t mean anything? Bringing you flowers, taking you to dinner?” For some reason, an indescribable emotion surged in my chest. I couldn’t tell what it was, but I frowned, the words spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Sloane, we both know what Mom is scheming. When did you meet him? How many times have you seen him? Have you slept at his place?” Sloane put down her pen. Her eyes, magnified slightly by the gold-rimmed glasses, looked at me directly. “Riley, I’ve only met him once at a gala. We haven’t met privately, and I definitely haven’t slept at his place.” She sighed, a helpless but gentle smile curving her lips. “If I tell you that, will you stop being mad?” Hearing her say that, the knot of anger in my chest loosened a bit. But her almost overindulgent, doting tone made me inexplicably irritated again. “Don’t get it twisted, Sloane. Nothing you say matters to me. You’re just a toy.” Sloane smiled, saying nothing. After Parker showed up, everything changed. No, to be exact, I changed. I couldn’t say why. Sloane was supposed to be nothing to me. Just a “toy” I could bully and vent on. If she had suitors, if guys brought her flowers, if guys took her out—what did it matter to me? But I couldn’t control myself. That night, I tossed and turned in bed, my mind filled with the image of Parker standing at her desk. And those damn white flowers. White petals, so pristine. Sloane seemed to like white. I rolled over, pulled the blanket over my head, and squeezed my eyes shut. But when I closed my eyes, all I saw was Sloane looking up at him. Did she smile at him? I couldn’t remember. But I assumed she did. In my eyes, her smile was worthless. But who the fuck was Parker? What gave him the right? The next afternoon, I showed up at the lobby of Sterling Global again. The two receptionists exchanged a look. “Good afternoon, Ms. Riley.” I ignored them and walked straight to the elevators. As the doors closed, I looked at my reflection in the mirrored walls. My brow was deeply furrowed, dark circles under my eyes from staying up all night. My whole face practically screamed “don’t mess with me.” No wonder the receptionists always looked terrified. Even I thought I looked like a psychopath about to snap. What was I doing? I wasn’t here to catch a cheating spouse. When I pushed open Sloane’s office door, she was on the phone. Hearing the door, she looked up, her lips curving into a small smile. She told the person on the line to hold, covered the receiver, and whispered, “There’s snacks on the table. Sit for a second.” That tone again. Coaxing a toddler. I sat on the couch, crossed my arms, and stared at her while she talked. She was wearing a white silk blouse today, the collar slightly open, revealing her collarbone. Her hair wasn’t pinned up; it fell loosely over her shoulders, the ends curled and soft. I stared at her for a long time until she hung up the phone and met my gaze. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

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The first time I noticed something was wrong with this world was during a first-aid training session at the company. The instructor pointed at the CPR mannequin and said, “Remember, human blood is blue. It only slowly oxidizes and turns red after being exposed to air.” At first, I thought he was making a joke. It wasn’t until I saw all my colleagues nodding seriously and taking notes that I couldn’t help but raise my hand. “Sir, did you misspeak? Blood is always red.” The instructor and every single one of my colleagues turned to look at me as if I were a monster. The instructor frowned, flipped open the training manual, and pointed it out to me. Right there, in black and white, it read: “Blood is blue.” I was dumbfounded. I pulled out my phone and searched the internet, only to find that every single result perfectly matched what was written in the manual. My coworker, Chloe, secretly tugged at my sleeve and asked with concern, “Have you been too tired lately? How could you forget such basic common sense?” I didn’t know how to answer her. Under the strange stares of my colleagues, I could only force an awkward smile and say I was just joking. As soon as the training ended, I immediately rushed into the restroom, gritted my teeth, and pricked my finger with a safety pin. Bright red blood welled up. Finally, I let out a long sigh of relief. My memory was correct. Although I didn’t know the reason, they were definitely playing some massive prank on me. Just as I was about to walk out, a conversation between two colleagues outside reached my ears. “Evelyn was so funny today. I can’t believe she actually said blood is always red.” “I know, right? My gums just happen to be bleeding. I really wanted to call her over to take a look.” I peeked out through the crack in the stall door. My colleague was baring her teeth at the mirror, using a tissue to wipe the blood from her mouth. On her white teeth, blue blood was slowly turning red. 01 This was probably the first time I had ever seen blue blood on a real person. I was so shocked that I instinctively covered my mouth, not daring to make another sound. They were right. And I was right, too. So, what exactly was wrong? Long after they left, and I was sure no one else was in the restroom, I secretly crept out. Walking through the office, I looked at everything that was once familiar, yet it all felt terrifyingly alien. Because I had already realized that I was different from them. I was, I feared, an anomaly. Back at my desk, my direct supervisor, Mr. Davis, quickly called me into his office. “I heard you haven’t been sleeping well lately? Are you under too much pressure?” I knew what he was referring to, but I didn’t have the courage to admit it to him. Because subconsciously, I always felt that being an anomaly was not a good thing. I just gave a few perfunctory replies, making the excuse again that it was just a joke and I didn’t expect everyone to take it so seriously. Fortunately, Mr. Davis didn’t press the issue. He just smiled, agreed with me, and told me to make sure I got enough rest. That night, I tightly locked all my doors and windows. I drew the curtains, lit some aromatherapy candles, and went to bed early. I hoped this was all just a dream, just a figment of my imagination. I hoped that when I woke up, everything would return to the familiar track I knew. But staying awake until 3 AM, I became more and more certain that there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. So, what on earth was going on? I got out of bed, turned on my computer, and searched for information about blood again. The results were no different from the daytime. No, it wasn’t just that there was no difference. I made an even more shocking discovery. The description for the Statue of Liberty read: “A landmark building located in Brooklyn, New York, completed just before the 2008 Beijing Olympics.” I searched for “Times Square,” and the images that came up were three bizarre buildings I had never seen before, called the “Financial Three Pillars.” I searched for “Hudson River,” and it showed “a river flowing through Chicago.” I violently slammed my laptop shut, breathing heavily. This was sheer madness. At the same time, I finally confirmed that this world was absolutely not the one I was familiar with. 02 However, I didn’t make a fuss about it. Because when I posted on an online forum questioning all this, I quickly received two replies. [The original poster needs to see a doctor.] [Did the original poster escape from somewhere?] The second reply instantly served as a wake-up call. As someone who didn’t belong to this world, this might not just be a matter of astonishment for me. Exposing myself recklessly would very likely put me in danger. So I immediately deleted the post and started to camouflage myself in my subsequent life. I tried my hardest to look like a “normal” person. At the same time, I carefully observed everything in this world. Fortunately, aside from some basic facts differing from my memory, I hadn’t found any issues that would affect my daily life yet. This allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief; perhaps my previous worries were unnecessary. But three days later, the first-aid training instructor came to our company again. He handed everyone a test paper, told us not to talk, and to hand it directly to him after finishing. He said it was to test the results of the training. I didn’t think much of it at first, until an older colleague who had been at the company for years muttered softly: “After all these years of training, this is the first time we’ve had to take a test.” A shiver instantly ran down my spine. Could this be… targeted at me? So I secretly peeked at my colleague’s test paper. Cold sweat instantly crawled down my back. My colleague’s test paper was filled with questions about first-aid knowledge. But mine… The first question was: What color is human blood? The second question was: What color is a baby’s hair when they are born? … I quickly realized I was being targeted. Although I didn’t know what this meant, my intuition told me it definitely wasn’t anything good. I controlled the trembling of my fingers and calmly wrote down blue and white. When I handed the paper in, the instructor gave me a meaningful look but didn’t say anything. I didn’t know if this meant I had passed, but I knew that from now on, every moment, I had to be much more careful. 03 The next day at noon, a few colleagues and I went to a newly opened restaurant near the company for lunch. My experiences over the past few days had made me subconsciously sensitive to the people and things around me. So I quickly noticed a man in a gray jacket sitting alone at a table diagonally behind us. In my memory, I seemed to have seen this person on the subway this morning as well. Now there was a single meal set in front of him, but he hadn’t taken a single bite and was constantly looking at his phone. I picked up my phone, using the screen as a mirror, pretending to touch up my makeup while keeping an eye on his movements. In the span of less than a minute, he looked up three times, and every single time, he just “casually” glanced at me so perfectly. I knew it in my heart. As expected, he was coming for me. I didn’t expose him. I pretended not to notice and finished eating with my colleagues. When I returned to the office in the afternoon, I found excuses to go down to the convenience store a few times. Unsurprisingly, I “coincidentally” ran into him every time. When getting off work, I stood at the entrance of the office building, hesitating. Should I just catch a cab home and hide? Or follow my usual routine and accept the gray jacket’s “coincidental” accompaniment? Or go straight up to him and ask him clearly what he exactly wants? It would be a lie to say I wasn’t afraid, but deep down, I wanted to figure out what was really going on even more. So I made a bold decision. I took a different route home. I didn’t take the main road I usually took, but instead detoured into the old streets and narrow alleys where I used to rent an apartment. After turning three corners, I ducked into a convenience store, ordered some oden, and brazenly sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling window to wait. The road down from the convenience store was a dead end. And the only resident there was my former landlord. Therefore, I only needed to wait for the gray jacket to turn around, and I would formally lay my cards on the table. No matter how he tried to argue, he could no longer find an excuse for following me. Up until now, neither the training instructor nor the gray jacket had confronted me directly, which meant they didn’t want to do anything to me yet. So I should still be safe for now, which was my biggest trump card. But after the gray jacket walked past me, I waited for a long time, and he never came back. As it grew darker, I stood outside the convenience store in surprise, looking to the right. The dead-end alley was eerily quiet. Only the streetlights lit up punctually, casting light on the mottled stone walls and the ground. The gray jacket, as if he had never been there, vanished. At this moment, I finally felt, once again, a chilling terror. 04 I hurried home and double-locked all the doors and windows. After drinking a whole bottle of ice water to force myself to calm down, I wrote down some questions on a piece of paper. [1. This world is not my previous world.] [2. People are paying special attention to me because I brought up the anomalies of this world.] [3. These people, and what’s behind them, are absolutely not simple.] [So, what do they want?] I chewed on the end of my pen, starting to analyze this problem. Do they want to determine if I am someone from this world? No, for this matter, they completely wouldn’t need to go in such a huge circle. My blood is red. With their abilities, finding out this result would be effortless. At this moment, I remembered the meaningful look the training instructor gave me when collecting the test papers. I gripped my pen and wrote firmly below: [They want to determine if I have realized that this world is abnormal.] Yes, their current actions are probing and observing based on my reactions. If I am content with the status quo, maybe they won’t overly interfere with my life. But if I show very clear suspicion and resistance, I might be in danger. I took a deep breath and continued to think about the next question. So, what should I do? This was actually a topic I had been asking myself for the past few days but dared not face. Should I force myself to accept all this and live in this world like a native? Or find the source of all the weirdness and, at all costs, return to my original world? I didn’t dare write down the answer, but in that instant, I already had the answer in my heart. 05 I registered an account on the country’s largest Q&A community, then asked a question: [I have a bad memory and always get landmark buildings in the wrong cities. What should I do?] I didn’t dare blatantly mention the anomalies of this world again, let alone the highly sensitive topic of blood color. I could only ask obscurely. If there was a companion of mine in this world, I hoped he could understand what I meant. A day later, three answers were added under the question, none of which were what I was looking for. So, I tried to add to the question: [For example, the Statue of Liberty. I always misremember where it is. What should I do?] The next morning, I saw a private message notification from that community on my phone. After unlocking my phone, in the thumbnail preview on the homepage, a user named [Peach] left me a message: [New York?] At that moment, even my heartbeat seemed to stop. I immediately clicked on it, but the community page was completely empty. That question had been deleted, and my account was inexplicably banned. I instantly realized they had discovered my little trick. At this moment, I felt both terrified and excited. I didn’t know what they would do next, but I knew that I was not alone in this world. 06 After a brief moment to compose myself, I decided to go to work as usual first. The path to the subway station required walking through a narrow alley. Just as I stepped into it, someone suddenly darted out from inside and bumped into me. He said “sorry” and hurried away. I was a bit surprised, because in that split second just now, I seemed to see that the corners of his mouth were turned up in a smile. I turned back, continued walking forward, and suddenly a loud crash came from above my head. Immediately after, an air conditioning unit fell right in front of me. The shattered pieces flying up almost grazed the tip of my nose. My mind went completely blank for a moment. Then came the overwhelming sense of terror. I was almost entirely soaked in cold sweat, trembling all over. This was the first time I had been so close to death. The police arrived quickly. The investigation concluded it was due to long-term disrepair and an accidental detachment. Moreover, the police told me that the family in that apartment had moved out months ago, and the place was empty. A passerby beside me comforted me, “Young lady, surviving a great disaster means you’ll have great fortune later.” My face was as white as paper, because I knew very well the reason why I hadn’t died. Someone had bumped into me. So I understood even more clearly now what his faint smile meant. 07 When I arrived at the company, I happened to run into my direct supervisor, Mr. Davis, talking on the phone at the entrance. Seeing my pale, traumatized face, he asked me what was wrong. I tried hard to squeeze out a smile, saying I almost had an accident on the way and was still feeling scared. He immediately asked with concern, “Are you okay?” I shook my head and said I was fine. “That’s good,” he said, seeming to think for a moment. “Evelyn, how about I give you the day off? You really should go to the hospital and get checked out.” I smiled and said it really wasn’t necessary, and that he could just waive my tardiness this time. Mr. Davis didn’t say anything more. He just waved his hand and let me in. After sitting at my desk for a good while, I finally completely calmed down. But then I suddenly remembered that Mr. Davis didn’t even ask what happened to me. So why did he want me to go to the hospital? I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles the whole day. I could be certain that after they discovered my little trick, they were going to take action against me. The incident this morning was a warning. And they were right beside me. When I got home at night, I discovered more things that were wrong. Someone had entered my house. Although they were very careful to put things back exactly as they were, because I have lived alone for a long time, I am habitually very sensitive to every detail. Moreover, in the wastebasket, the paper on which I had previously written down questions had been opened. That crumpled paper was originally in the middle of the trash, but now it was deliberately pressed all the way to the bottom. At this moment, I was incredibly thankful that I hadn’t written down my final thoughts. If they had seen it, what would have happened? Would they have just taken me away directly? But what do they plan to do now? Give me a chance to remedy the situation? Then, what should I do? I lay in bed, awake all night. As dawn approached, I made a decision: escape. 08 After sending a message to Mr. Davis asking for annual leave, I immediately bought a ticket for the earliest flight to Denver. Not long after dawn, I had already packed my suitcase and rolled it out the door. The morning rush hour hadn’t started yet, and I quickly got a ride-hailing car. The driver was a silent middle-aged man, and the whole ride was quiet. After the car got onto the highway to the airport, I finally felt waves of exhausted sleepiness. Leaning against the window, I tried hard to keep myself from falling asleep. After my head bumped against the window an unknown number of times, I jolted awake. This wasn’t the road to the airport! “Sir, are we going the wrong way?” I tried my best to make my tone sound less panicked. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “That’s what the navigation says. There might be road repairs causing a detour.” I let out an “oh” and sneaked a peek over. His phone screen was black; the navigation wasn’t even turned on. My heart practically leaped into my throat, but I forced myself to pretend to be calm. I knew that telling him to stop now was absolutely impossible. I could only outsmart him. Seeing a coffee shop not far ahead, I told him to stop there for a moment so I could buy a cup of coffee. But the driver didn’t answer me; instead, he stepped on the gas. My heart sank. Was it time to drop all pretenses? I felt for my phone; there was no signal, and the car’s speed was still increasing. If we kept driving down this highway for much longer, we would leave the city limits, and not far beyond that were mountain roads. I didn’t dare think any further. I tightly gripped the handle, my mind racing as I considered where to make a desperate stand against the driver. Just as I made up my mind, there seemed to be a major traffic jam ahead due to an accident. The car slowed down, and, there were police! Like a desperate survivor, I frantically pounded on the window, even intending to open the car door regardless of everything. Thank goodness, the police saw me. A motorcycle with flashing lights made the driver pull over. The moment the car stopped, I opened the door and rushed out, speaking incoherently. “Police! He’s trying to kidnap me! Help!” The driver remained silent throughout. Even as he was taken away, he only gave me a deep look. I missed my flight and followed the police to the station to give a statement. After I recounted all the events of the morning from start to finish, the female police officer taking my statement comforted me: “Miss, you’re probably just overly frightened. We’ve already notified your family, and they’ll be here soon.” I instantly felt something was wrong. Family? My parents are in my hometown, how could they… The door to the reception room opened, and two people walked in quickly, looking anxious. One was Mr. Davis, and the other was Chloe from the HR department. “Evelyn! Are you okay?” Mr. Davis looked full of concern. “You scared us to death! We got a call from the police saying you were in trouble…” Chloe hugged me. “Evelyn, don’t be scared, don’t be scared, we’re here.” I looked at them, unable to even force a fake smile. “Mr. Davis, Chloe, why are you…” “In the company files, we are your designated emergency contacts,” Mr. Davis said. “The form you filled out when you joined, did you forget?” I really didn’t remember. No, I definitely wouldn’t have put them as my emergency contacts. In that moment, I realized my previous judgment of them was too naive. The forces behind them were unfathomably deep. The police suggested I go home and rest, and Mr. Davis drove me. Along the way, he and Chloe kept comforting me. As we got closer to my house, he finally asked me tentatively. “You haven’t been looking well lately. Do you want to… go see a doctor?” He said he knew a very good psychologist who should be able to solve my problems quickly. I suddenly remembered, this was the second time he had brought up me seeing a doctor. And, it was also immediately following an “accident.” “Dr. Lee is really very professional.” After the car parked downstairs at my apartment, Mr. Davis turned his head and looked at me with sincere earnestness. “Sometimes, what we see and believe isn’t necessarily true. It might be that you’re under too much pressure and are experiencing hallucinations. A doctor can help you distinguish between what’s real and what’s imagination.” His words already carried a very obvious implication. It was as if something had suddenly clicked together in my mind. Everything was done by them, after they discovered my actions. The two “accidents” weren’t me being lucky, barely surviving each time by a hair’s breadth. It was them warning me. So, would I have a third chance? Facing the concerned gazes of Mr. Davis and Chloe, after staring blankly for a few seconds, I nodded. “Then I’ll go… give it a try.” They both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Mr. Davis handed me a business card, and Chloe told me not to worry about my leave; she would handle all the arrangements. I thanked them, took my luggage, and got out of the car. After the car drove away, I looked at the business card in my hand. [Dr. Richard Lee] [Center for Cognitive and Perceptual Disorders Treatment] I knew what this meant. They were giving me one last chance. To go see the doctor, receive “treatment,” and admit that everything was my “hallucination.” Then, I could continue to be a “normal person” in this world. So, should I go?

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The System ordered me to adopt the true billionaire heiress. Its instructions were clear: scold her and bully her every single day to forge her into someone with an unbreakable, iron-willed personality. Once she was finally claimed by her ridiculously wealthy family, I would be rewarded with a massive payout. I nodded viciously. “That’s easy. I absolutely hate kids!” Sixteen years later, her biological family and I finally crossed paths at the gates of her high school. I was standing there in a pair of cheap flip-flops, holding two greasy street-cart hot dogs. Her parents had pulled up in a fleet of luxury SUVs, their arms full of sixteen extravagant gifts—one to make up for every birthday they’d missed. The wealthy matriarch looked me up and down with poorly disguised disgust. “It must have been so hard for you all these years.” The fake heiress leaned against her mother, looking like a frightened little deer. “Sister, please don’t make them send me away.” The true heiress shot them a look like they were aliens. Then, she sprinted straight past them, beelined for me, and snatched one of the hot dogs right out of my hand. “Mom! I told you to stop eating this junk!” 1 When I found the true heiress by a dumpster in a back alley, she was barely a month old. She was painfully frail. Even her cries were as weak as a dying kitten’s. But the moment I picked her up, she stopped crying. Those big, round eyes stared up at me, suddenly curving into happy little crescents. I furrowed my brows and let out a cold scoff. “Don’t think you can bewitch me with that look.” “I’m only keeping you for the money.” The System chimed in: […Then why are you gently pinching her cheeks?] I quickly yanked my hand back. Damn it, I was bewitched! I quickly regained my senses. Sticking to my villainous parenting principles, I went to the pharmacy and bought the absolute cheapest baby formula on the shelf. But she didn’t seem to like it. Her little nose wrinkled, and her eyes filled with grievance. I sneered relentlessly. “You’re awfully picky. Drink it or starve.” Instead of crying, she babbled softly, reaching out her tiny hand to wrap around my index finger and giving it a gentle shake. Early the next morning, I picked up three extra shifts at the diner. That night, I bought the premium, organic formula that actually tasted good. The System: […Is this part of the evil plan?] I snapped back out of sheer embarrassment: “If she doesn’t drink the good stuff, she won’t grow! And if she doesn’t grow, how am I supposed to trade her for the cash?!” That night, she was exceptionally quiet in her crib. I tossed and turned, getting up every single minute to check if she was still breathing. I even frantically Googled: “Is it normal for babies not to cry?” By the sixth time I leaned over the crib, I finally woke her up. The System: […What exactly are you doing?] I breathed a sigh of relief, trying to cover my tracks: “I was just making sure she wasn’t dead…” When the little squirt grew into a healthy three-year-old, I finally had the chance to unleash my wicked nature. I pinched her chubby little cheeks and whispered like a demon: “Starting today…” “You will tie your own shoelaces!” The System: [?] 2 Maybe it was just good genetics, but the true heiress was incredibly smart. She quickly learned to tie her own shoes, put herself to bed, feed herself, and even wash her own little socks in the sink. The System asked numbly: [What kind of abuse is this supposed to be?] “You don’t get it.” I chuckled evilly. My master plan was only just beginning. “Next, I’m going to make her learn how to mop the floors, cook the meals, and do all the dirty, exhausting chores.” “I’m going to turn her into my personal Cinderella.” The System finally agreed: [Ah, now that is the right direction.] What I didn’t expect was for her to be so unbelievably obedient. She did exactly whatever I told her to do. But as her strict, cruel mother, I couldn’t allow a single mistake. So, when she accidentally knocked over the mop bucket, I put my hands on my hips and scolded her ruthlessly. “You’re so clumsy! Your real, rich parents are going to hate you when they see this!” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she ran into her room crying. I panicked, hurrying over to press my ear against her door. The crying inside grew quieter, and my anxiety skyrocketed. “Oh no, what do I do? Did she pass out from crying too hard?” The System: [Isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration?] I paced back and forth, nodding to myself: “You’re right. I’ll give it five more minutes…” The System: [That’s more like it…] “Four minutes… three minutes… one minute. Forget it, I’m going in!” Before I even finished my sentence, I shoved the door open. When I rushed in, she was sitting at her little desk, drawing. I scooped her up into my arms, keeping my face stern as I tried to explain myself: “I was just talking nonsense earlier. You’re so cute, your parents would never hate you.” But she just handed the drawing to me. “Mommy.” It was a drawing of a big stick figure holding hands with a little stick figure. She rested her head on my shoulder. “I don’t want anyone else. I just want Mommy.” I fell silent. She reached up and patted my cheek. “Mommy, don’t cry.” I turned my head away. “I’m not crying.” 3 I realized that scolding her was completely useless. It only ended up making me cry every single time. So, I changed my tactics. I bought a stack of flashcards and aggressively forced her to learn how to read. The System: [And what is this supposed to accomplish?] I was brimming with confidence: “You wouldn’t understand. I’m going to crush her spirit with academic pressure.” On the first day, I taught her the words “You, Me, Him.” On the second day, I taught her “Love, Hate, Like, Dislike.” On the third day, she put it all together. Like a little chirping bird, she chased me around the apartment yelling, “I love Mommy! I love Mommy!” I blushed furiously and threw the flashcards on the floor. Damn it, it didn’t work at all! Right before she started elementary school, I needed to officially get her birth certificate and Social Security card sorted out. That was when I realized I hadn’t even given her a real name yet. I had just been calling her “kiddo.” The System: [This is a crucial plot point.] [You need to give her a name she will never forget, something that brings her pain and struggle.] [I suggest naming her something truly unfortunate. Something that constantly reminds her she’s a burden, like ‘Misery’ or ‘Sorrow’.] “A burden…” I thought about it all night. The next day, I confidently filled out the legal paperwork and bragged to the System about my success. “I took your advice. I gave her a name that will truly torment her.” The System: [Oh? Did you finally figure it out?] I slapped the birth certificate down in front of her. “From now on, your name is Dawn Miller!” The System: [?] I laughed triumphantly. “The kid absolutely hates waking up early, so I named her Dawn! Won’t she be furious having to hear that every day?” The System: […] The next second, Dawn threw her arms around my leg, looking up at me with absolute adoration. “Mommy, thank you for letting me have your last name!” Huh? This wasn’t going according to plan. 4 Once she started school, I gave her strict orders that she must study hard. Dawn obediently agreed, and her personality grew much more mature. She no longer ran around screaming “I love Mommy” all day. Instead, the moment she got home, she did the chores, finished her homework, and even made the bed for me before going to sleep. I boasted to the System: “Look! We’re finally growing estranged!” “This proves my evil parenting plan is progressing perfectly!” Yet, I couldn’t resist secretly creeping into her room at night just to make sure she was okay. The next day after school, she walked up to me holding two greasy street-cart hot dogs. I glared at her fiercely. “Where did you get the money for those?!” Dawn looked up, blinking innocently. “Didn’t you secretly slip five dollars into my backpack, Mom?” “…I dropped that in there by accident!” Dawn smirked. “Then you were also ‘accidental’ the day before yesterday, and last week, and last month…” I quickly cut her off, snatching the hot dogs away. “Stop talking! This is junk food! Who said you could eat this?!” Under her pitiful, longing gaze, I devoured both hot dogs in three bites. Two hours after we got home, I walked into her room carrying a plate of premium, organic sausages I had cooked myself. “Look at this! This is what you call healthy!” Dawn didn’t say a word, but her eyes sparkled as she ate the plate clean. The System: [And what exactly is this?] I walked away fully satisfied. “What do you know? I was just making her act as my royal poison tester.” 5 Dawn was a genius. She practically got straight A’s on every test. Finally, during her third-grade finals, she only scored a 98 on her English exam. I seized the opportunity, keeping my face dead serious. “How could you be so careless? Why did you lose those two points?!” Dawn lowered her head, admitting her mistake, and silently walked into her room. The System: [Yes! This is great! You’re finally…] Before it could even finish, I was already staring at Dawn’s retreating back, silently shedding tears. “Oh God, what have I done!” The System: […You literally didn’t even do anything.] A few minutes later, Dawn came into the kitchen to start cooking and found me squatting in the corner, crying. I immediately jumped up and aggressively wiped my face. Dawn looked at my red-rimmed eyes. “Mom, are you crying again?” “I’m not crying! The smoke from the stove got in my eyes!” Dawn sighed. “Mom, I promise I’ll get a 100 next time.” I shot back: “What do you know?!” “I know.” Dawn leaned against my shoulder, gently patting my back. “I know that Mom loves me very much.” I stiffened, secretly wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The System: […Aren’t you supposed to be teaching her a harsh lesson?] Me: “Shut up! This is called playing the long game! Once she fully trusts me, then I’ll hurt her deeply!” But I waited a long, long time, and that opportunity never came. Instead, what came was Dawn running home from school in tears. I hadn’t seen Dawn cry in a very, very long time. The moment she walked through the door, she slumped over the table. I paced around her anxiously, practically begging her to tell me what was wrong, until she finally sobbed out the truth. “They said… they said I’m not your real biological child!” “Oh, is that all?” I let out a massive sigh of relief. “Yeah, I found you next to a dumpster.” Dawn froze. “…Are you serious?” 6 “Yeah.” I was completely blunt about it. “I’ve told you that a million times.” I used to threaten her all the time that she came from the trash. But she never thought it was actually true. Her lower lip trembled, and she looked like she was about to wail again. But I asked her: “So what?” Dawn’s brain short-circuited, and the crying abruptly stopped. I asked again: “Am I good to you?” “…Yes.” “Did I raise you all these years?” “…Yes.” “Does the fact that you’re not biologically mine change anything about your life right now?” Dawn thought about it really, really hard. Eventually, her eyes grew brighter and brighter, and she answered loudly: “No!” “Then what’s the problem?” I threw my hands up in victory. The System: [This was supposed to be a devastating psychological trauma for the true heiress.] I coughed lightly: “Mind your business. I operate on my own rhythm.” The next day, Dawn went to school. Those annoying boys started mocking her again for being an abandoned orphan. Dawn stood up perfectly straight, tilting her chin up proudly: “So what?” “Tommy, your clothes are always wrinkled and dirty. Your parents don’t even care enough to do your laundry—they definitely don’t love you!” “Bobby, you fail every single class, and your parents don’t even show up to the meetings. They’ve totally given up on you!” “Hunter, you eat junk food for lunch every day and your parents never stop you. They clearly don’t care about your health!” The three boys stared at each other, their faces turning beet red. “Well… you’re still a dumpster baby!” Dawn remained impossibly arrogant: “So what?” “My mom loves me! I have nothing to be afraid of!” 7 Life with Dawn went on, day by day. With her stellar grades, she got into the best public magnet high school in the city. Overjoyed, I scraped together the money to move us into an apartment closer to her new school. When Dawn found out how expensive the rent was, she immediately volunteered to take on tutoring gigs. I panicked. “Absolutely not!” Dawn blinked. “Why not?” I struggled for a moment before blurting out: “Tutoring will distract you from studying! If you don’t get into an Ivy League college, you won’t make enough money to support me when I’m old!” Dawn nodded seriously. “That makes perfect sense.” I breathed a sigh of relief. But I was terrified she might actually take me seriously and drop out to wash dishes just to help me pay bills. So I quickly added: “Supporting you for a few more years is no problem for me. This is what you call a long-term stock investment.” Dawn smiled. “Thank you, Mom.” I pulled out a brand-new backpack and tossed it to her. “Here. Found it on the street.” Dawn: “Mom, my old backpack is still fine.” I glared at her viciously. “I told you to use it, so use it! Stop arguing!” Dawn smiled brightly, taking the bag. Right before she left for school, she poked her head back in: “Mom, I’m really craving one of those street cart hot dogs today.” I waved her off dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, got it.” That evening, I showed up early at the school gates, holding two hot dogs, ready to pick her up. Suddenly, an absurdly expensive luxury car rolled to a stop right in front of the school. Under the shocked and envious gazes of all the parents, four people stepped out. Leading them was a beautifully maintained couple dripping in Old Money elegance. Behind them was a pair of siblings. The younger sister was clutching her brother’s blazer, looking incredibly nervous. The brother was looking around in disgust, clearly feeling it was beneath him to breathe the same air as the rest of us. The System, which had been silent for ages, suddenly pinged: [The Kensington family has arrived to pick up the true heiress.] I froze in place. The System had told me that once I raised Dawn to be sixteen, her biological parents would come for her. I just never expected it to happen so abruptly.

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I was with Ethan Vance for four years, and we were incredibly compatible. So compatible that it gave him a delusion. “Just making do with Sam for the rest of my life actually seems pretty good!” He proposed to me, deciding to settle down and build a life with me. But right at this critical juncture, my sister—who had previously gone abroad to get married—suddenly got divorced and returned to the States. Ethan jumped at the chance to take her out, bringing her to high-society galas and networking events to help her rebuild her connections. Everyone in our circle was waiting to watch me become a laughingstock. I, however, let out a massive sigh of relief. Phew, scared me to death. Who actually wants to marry him? 1 The day Haley returned to the country, Ethan was in my bed. He gripped my waist, pinned my hands, and pressed me into the mattress, clearly aroused. But when that exclusive, custom ringtone chimed from his phone, he stopped immediately. I wrapped my arms around his neck and refused to let go. “Where are you going?” He pushed me away without a second thought. “Stop messing around. Haley wouldn’t call me if everything was fine!” He answered the phone in a frantic rush, not even bothering to put on his shoes. I didn’t hear what the person on the other end said. But his tightly furrowed brows relaxed. He spoke softly: “Don’t do this again next time. Wait right there, I’ll be right over!” While Ethan was in the shower, I lay in bed, deep in thought. I didn’t care what Haley had actually said to Ethan. I was only thinking about that ringtone. The exclusive ringtone Haley had set on Ethan’s phone herself. Three scenes flashed through my mind. Scene One: Ethan indulgently letting Haley mess with his phone. Haley pouting playfully: “You’re not allowed to change this ringtone, or else I’ll ignore you!” Ethan smiling and nodding: “Whatever you say!” Scene Two: Haley got married and moved to Europe. A blackout-drunk Ethan smashed his phone. He roared at his assistant to buy him a new one, then clumsily tried to set that exclusive ringtone back. But in his state, he couldn’t do such a simple thing. He looked at me with pleading eyes: “What do I do? Haley will ignore me!” Scene Three: Just now, that exclusive ringtone chiming again. Ethan’s current iPhone was the one I gave him three months ago. It turns out, he doesn’t need my help anymore; he can set that ringtone back all by himself! Ethan came out of the bathroom quickly. While hurriedly getting dressed, he told me: “I’m heading out. Don’t wait up for me!” I called out to him. “Ethan!” “Yeah?” “We… are done. Let’s end this here.” 2 My relationship with Ethan had always been a bit muddy. In the beginning, someone asked him: “Are you dating Sam?” He shook his head: “Just friends with benefits!” I didn’t express an opinion on that. After all, he wasn’t wrong. But two years later, when introducing me to others, he’d say: “This is my girlfriend!” I was genuinely stunned for a moment back then. But I didn’t say much. Half a year ago, he proposed to me. His friends were shocked: “Are you serious?” He took a deep drag of his cigarette, his expression unreadable: “Making do with Sam for a lifetime actually seems pretty good.” But I felt entirely dazed. I did nod. I said yes. But my heart felt ungrounded. And I grew more panicked day by day. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Until Haley made that phone call. I suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. It turned out, I never wanted to marry Ethan at all! 3 “What did you say?” Ethan’s usually passive face suddenly turned freezing cold. His gaze was incredibly heavy. But I wasn’t his subordinate. I was never afraid of him. So I smiled at him. “I said, we’re over. This ends here. Game Over!” I never used to believe that a gaze could kill. But the look Ethan gave me felt like he wanted to swallow me alive. He turned his head and left coldly. “Suit yourself!” 4 I heard about Haley returning to the States from our mutual friends. Along with the news of her divorce! “Apparently that painter cheated on her, slept with his muse, and even hit her. Tsk tsk, artists… we ordinary people just don’t understand!” I found the wording hilarious. That phrase originally came from Haley’s own mouth. Back when she recklessly followed that painter to Paris, she claimed he was an artist, and we ordinary people wouldn’t understand! We didn’t understand romance, love, or soulmates! But she was completely blind to the fact that what sustained their “epic romance” was the massive allowance our family wired to her every month. And I was the one earning that money! But none of that mattered. I just suddenly realized that Ethan would definitely not be attending tomorrow night’s gala with me! It had been three days since I told Ethan it was over. I sent him a text, asking when he would come pack his things. He didn’t reply. I contacted his executive assistant to handle it. The assistant hemmed and hawed, saying he didn’t know, and that it wasn’t his job. I couldn’t be bothered anymore. If it wasn’t to accommodate Ethan’s commute, I would never have lived in that condo anyway. Now that I had moved back to my own penthouse near the company, I realized how stupid I had been. Isn’t sleeping an extra half hour every morning a beautiful thing? Back at the company, I asked my assistant to arrange a plus-one for me for the evening gala. My assistant looked confused: “Aren’t you going with Mr. Vance?” “He probably has another date!” My assistant’s expression shifted drastically. Her imagination must have run wild because she looked righteously indignant. “Don’t worry, Ms. Hayes, I’ll arrange the absolute best for you!” I wanted to say that wasn’t necessary, anyone would do. But she had already run off. By the afternoon, she mysteriously told me: “Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, eight-pack abs, righteous face. The absolute best guy from the premier security firm in the city. Ms. Hayes, you’ll definitely be satisfied!” … That really wasn’t necessary! But seeing the actual person, I was still taken aback. How should I put it… this physique and face really could make a person weak in the knees. If only he wasn’t so damn talkative! “We are a legitimate security firm, we don’t do escort services!” “Of course, we don’t completely refuse them, but that’s a different price bracket!” “And Ethan Vance is also a premium client of our company. If I go with you, he won’t file a complaint against me, will he?” “Our company prides itself on a 99.9% positive rating. If I get a complaint, I have to write an incident report!” “Of course, these things can all be resolved, if you insist, it’ll just have to be…” “Shut up!” I couldn’t take it anymore, gritting my teeth. He looked innocent, saying calmly: “…an extra charge!” I took a deep breath: “If you keep yapping, I’ll report you. Of course, if you perform well, I’ll give you a massive five-figure bonus afterward!” He contentedly made an OK gesture. “Don’t worry, I’m a professional!” 5 Professional Guy had sharp eyes. As soon as we entered the ballroom, he muttered, “Damn!” My eyebrow twitched. “No swearing!” He pointed not far away. “Your fiancé!” Of course, just my fiancé wouldn’t be enough to make him curse. Mainly because there was a woman standing next to my fiancé, holding his arm and smiling sweetly. “You’re being cheated on!” “That’s my sister.” “Wow, double kill!” Great, I could barely maintain my smile anymore. I don’t know if it was because of the professional guy—Jax Thorne’s—constant banter, or if I had truly reached inner peace. Seeing Ethan and Haley together, I actually didn’t feel much. Of course, I had no intention of going up to say hello either. But Haley took the initiative to come over to us. “Sister, I missed you so much! I’ve been back for so many days and I finally get to see you! Why didn’t you answer my calls?” Translation: Sam and Haley have a bad relationship, Sam refuses to answer her sister’s calls, how un-sisterly! “Mom and Dad miss you too. When are you coming home for dinner? They’d definitely be very happy!” Translation: Sam has a bad relationship with our parents, doesn’t go home to see them, how unfilial! “I even brought you a gift from Paris, please don’t be mad at me, okay?” Translation: Sam is petty, Haley is kind and generous. When I was little, I didn’t understand the subtext. Clearly, it was Haley’s fault, and she’d say she was wrong, but in the end, I was the one who got punished. As I grew older, I realized Haley was a master manipulator. You had to read between the lines! While I was deep in thought, Jax spoke up. “Mad at you? Did you do something to wrong Sam? Then apologize! Do you know how to say ‘I’m sorry’? What’s the point of bringing gifts, you have to say sorry first! Only after you say sorry can people consider whether to say it’s fine. After all, it depends on what you did wrong and if it’s worth forgiving. If you committed arson, murder, and robbery, then we’d have no choice but to cut ties for the greater good!” Jax talked so fast and relentlessly that Haley couldn’t get a word in edgewise despite trying several times. Until Ethan coldly intervened: “Who are you?” His sharp gaze swept from Jax to me, finally landing on my hand holding Jax’s arm. I didn’t answer, pulling Jax a step back. “You guys are busy, excuse us!” I had already lifted the hem of my gown, ready to turn gracefully. But Jax grabbed both my arms and lifted me straight up. Yes, that’s right. With the posture of moving a potted plant, he physically moved me from the left to the right. My feet left the ground, and I was utterly bewildered. Only when I landed did I realize that Ethan had reached out to grab me, but was interrupted by Jax in the nick of time. For a moment, I had mixed feelings. Am I really that light? Ethan glared fiercely at Jax. “Let her go!” Jax gave a cynical, street-smart smile, full of swagger. “It’s a society ruled by law, pal. You can’t just harass someone else’s date!” “She is my…” “Ethan!” “Ethan!” The moment Ethan was about to blurt it out, Haley and I spoke at the exact same time. My tone was ice cold, while Haley’s carried pure panic. She gripped Ethan’s sleeve, her face pale! Ethan looked at me. Just one glance, then he withdrew his focus back to Haley. He retracted his aggressive aura, pulled Haley’s hand into his, and turned to leave! 6 That night, aside from the conflict with Ethan and Haley, Jax acted very professionally. He said his face was almost stiff from smiling so much. Being able to smile breezily while fending off corporate sharks is really damn hard! He asked me if I was tired. “Drinking, smiling, and making small talk. I feel like my soul has been sucked dry!” Hearing this made me really want to smack him. But I had to admit, it was indeed exhausting. I gave Jax a huge bonus envelope. And told him I would book him again next time. He drove me home with a dark expression. At the same time, he repeatedly emphasized: “I am a decent person! A top-tier bodyguard who navigates the light and the dark!” I nodded perfunctorily. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll introduce you to more clients next time!” After sending Jax off, I slowly went upstairs to my penthouse. As soon as I got out of the elevator, I saw Ethan. He was leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette, looking at me quietly. I didn’t want to talk to him, and tried to walk past him to my door. But he grabbed my waist and pressed me hard against the wall. I grunted as my back hit the drywall. He pressed toward me recklessly, trying to capture my lips. I turned my head to dodge. “Move!” Ethan acted as if he didn’t hear me, continuing to chase me. I was thoroughly enraged. I brought my knee up and kneed him hard in the groin. Ethan let out a muffled groan. He curled up and squatted on the ground, looking at me with bloodshot eyes, as if he had suffered a massive betrayal. But the words that came out of his mouth were incredibly vicious. “Why are you acting like some chaste saint with me? Didn’t you climb into my bed yourself back then?” Even though I had already said it was over. Even though I thought I had completely let it go. My heart still contracted violently. It shrank so hard it seemed to stop beating for a few seconds. A metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I climbed into your bed. But so what? You weren’t the only one getting off! Besides, did I force you? It was completely consensual. Now I say it’s over, which means it’s over. If you touch me one more time, it’s assault!” 7 Ethan and I could be considered childhood friends. We were born in the same year; he was three months older than me. Our families ran in the same corporate circles, and our parents were friends. We even grew up in the same gated community. Ethan was my first love when I hit puberty. But he didn’t like me. He liked the lively, cheerful, sunshine-like Haley. As for Sam? Wooden, boring, old-fashioned. Some people even suspected Haley and I weren’t biological sisters. “Even their last names are different. Could Sam be a half-sister from a previous marriage?” (Sam Hayes vs. Haley Davis). “Maybe an illegitimate daughter!” At one point, such rumors were rampant in our social circle. After hearing this, Ethan beat up the guy who spread it the loudest. Not for me. For Haley. He forced Haley to apologize to me. Saying: “Haley was just being willful, don’t hold it against her!” Haley stuck her tongue out: “I was just talking nonsense, who knew they’d actually believe it! Sorry, I was wrong!” Ethan always favored and defended Haley. Even if she wasn’t perfect. So, when Haley met her “true love” and eloped to Europe, Ethan became a desperate, trapped beast. So desperate that he found a substitute whose eyes and brows resembled Haley’s. So I offered myself. “With me as this high-quality replica, do you still need those cheap knockoffs?” Ethan said: “I don’t like you!” I said: “I don’t need you to like me!” I never needed Ethan to like me. Being with him wasn’t a gamble on developing deep feelings over time either. I just weighed the pros and cons and chose the solution that minimized my losses at the time. 8 Haley had been back in the States for half a month. During this half month, Ethan kept her by his side constantly, taking her to various galas and expanding her network for her. And my mom seemed to finally remember my existence. She called me and immediately started scolding. “Haley has been back for so long! Not only did you not help her, you didn’t even make a single phone call. Sam, do you still consider yourself a part of the Davis family?” That’s hilarious. As if me treating myself as a Davis would make them treat me like family. “Is there something you need?” “What kind of tone is that?” “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up!” My mom ultimately knew my temper. Despite holding a belly full of fire, she finally got to the point. “Come home for dinner tonight, I have something to tell you. Also, bring back that pink diamond you bought at auction last time, Haley will definitely love it!” I chuckled lightly and hung up the phone. She’s got some nerve! A five-million-dollar pink diamond, who wouldn’t love it? For a setup like this, logically, I shouldn’t attend. But I knew if I didn’t go tonight, my mom would make a scene at my corporate office tomorrow. Just like when Haley rebelliously insisted on marrying that broke artist. My mom stormed into the company, slapped me across the face in front of my staff, and demanded to know why I didn’t keep Haley in check, letting her meet someone like that. But I wasn’t a pushover either. I immediately returned that slap to Haley’s face and yelled: “I’m asking you, when did you hook up with such a shady guy?” When I arrived at the estate, they had already started eating. The family of three looked harmonious, and Ethan was there too. Seeing me, he froze, stared at me for a long moment, then expressionlessly looked away. Haley was the first to stand up, pulling me to the table. “Sister, don’t be mad at Mom and Dad. You know I have low blood sugar. Seeing you hadn’t come back, they were afraid I’d starve, so they didn’t wait for you!” My mom had a cold face. “Don’t mind her. If she doesn’t keep time herself, who can she blame?” I laughed. “Then I’ll leave?” “You!” My mom glared at me viciously. She gritted her teeth and pulled me into the kitchen: “Come in here with me!” “Speak, what’s the matter!” My mom hesitated for a second, then said: “Haley is going to get engaged to Ethan!” I froze. The next second, she eagerly continued: “Ethan liked Haley in the first place, it was you who shamelessly insisted on fighting Haley for him. Now that Haley is back, shouldn’t you give Ethan back to her? Besides, Ethan doesn’t even like you, so your thing with him is over! Also, you are not allowed to tell Haley, she still doesn’t know about the messy relationship between you and Ethan!” Actually, not just others, even I had suspected countless times that I wasn’t their biological child. So when I was little, I secretly took their hair to do a DNA test. The result disappointed me. Sigh, what a pity! My zoning out made her very dissatisfied. She interrogated me: “Did you hear clearly what I said or not?” I opened my mouth, just about to speak, when Haley opened the kitchen door. She looked innocent: “Mom, what are you secretly saying to my sister behind my back? I want to hear too!” My mom’s expression did a 180-degree turn. She smiled gently: “Sister said she brought a gift for you!” Saying that, she even gave me a push. Haley looked at me expectantly: “Sister? Really?” “A gift?” I curled the corner of my lips, “Sister’s gift to you, do you dare to accept it?” Haley’s face stiffened, recalling some not-so-pleasant memories. “You…” My mom wanted to say something more, but I had already strolled out to the dining room. What a lavish spread! This whole table of food was entirely Haley’s favorites. Ethan stood up, looking at me scrutinizingly. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” I looked at him. “I’m perfectly fine!” Never better than right now! I gripped the edge of the heavy mahogany dining table and lifted it a bit. It was heavy. So I made a phone call: “Jax? Still downstairs? Come up for a second!” Less than ten seconds after hanging up, Jax barged in. He asked me: “What’s up?” I lifted my chin: “Ten thousand dollars, flip this table!” “Sam!” “Don’t you dare!” I don’t know who it was, probably Ethan and my mom’s voices. Couldn’t hear clearly. Because the very second after my words fell, Jax grabbed the edge and flipped the entire table! The crisp sound of crashing porcelain and breaking crystal was too pleasant to the ears. Looking at the mess all over the floor, I smiled with satisfaction. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time! 9 I met Jax at the security booth of my office building. He was chewing on a cigarette, hands in his pockets, chatting with the security guard. I asked him what he was doing. He said applying for a security guard job. “Aren’t you a VIP bodyguard?” He chuckled: “Developing a side hustle!” “Short on cash?” “Yep!” So I let him into my car. I originally wanted to fulfill our verbal agreement and introduce him to a client, but I didn’t expect him to come in handy here! My mom tried to rush up and hit me, but Jax blocked her. “Ma’am, I hit women!” My mom’s face turned black. “Sam, have you gone crazy?” Haley supported my mom, looking worried: “Sister, quickly apologize to Mom!” I averted my gaze and said to Jax. “Let’s go!” With Jax’s intimidating presence, no one dared to step forward. But as Jax and I were about to walk out of the front yard, Ethan chased after us. His gaze pierced through Jax, staring dead at me. “Sam, who is he?” “None of your business!” His face looked awful. I turned to leave. He spoke again: “Haley said she wants to be with me!” I paused. “Oh, congratulations. You got your wish!” “Don’t you have anything else to say?” I looked at him: “When you guys get married, I’ll definitely send a generous check!” Ethan laughed. A laugh uglier than crying. “Good, very good!” Watching Ethan’s retreating back, Jax stroked his chin. “Why do I feel like that guy is up to no good?” I was silent for a moment. “Do you really hit women?” Jax stiffened. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not a matter of men or women, I didn’t mean I want to hit women… No, I mean I don’t just hit any woman… Actually, I mean if necessary, I can hit women… Hey, why does it sound weird no matter how I say it!” Seeing him about to start rambling again, I immediately interrupted him with a headache. “Do you want to be my personal bodyguard?” Jax blinked: “Personal? How personal?” … I glared at him sideways. He shrank his neck. “Then, then, then… what’s the salary?” “How much do you want?” Jax held up one hand. “Five thousand?” “No…” “That works too!” Jax’s eyes widened. I looked at him in confusion: “What were you just trying to say?” He straightened his back and saluted me. “From now on, you are my boss! I guarantee 24-hour standby!” 10 Actually, hiring Jax as my bodyguard didn’t have any other underlying meaning. I just felt that after this battle, my future days might not be peaceful. I know what kind of characters my parents and sister are. I can generally guess what kind of shady PR moves they’ll pull. Plus the unpredictable variable of Ethan. I just hoped they wouldn’t get too hot-headed! At 11 PM, I had just finished a video conference with my European partners, poured a glass of red wine, ready to drink it and go to sleep. My friend called. She said: “What’s the situation? How come Ethan brought Haley out, and they even kissed in public? Didn’t he propose to you?” Making a fuss over nothing. “Hasn’t he been keeping her by his side ever since she returned?” “But back then he said he treated Haley as a sister, and told us not to spread rumors!” There’s this part too? No wonder this confrontation came so late. But it’s understandable. Probably Haley hadn’t given him a clear signal, and he didn’t want to make things difficult for her. Now that Haley’s attitude had softened, he definitely couldn’t wait! Thinking it through, everything suddenly made sense. “Is everyone there?” “Yes, are you coming out?” “I’m not going. Put it on speaker, I have something to say!” Not many people knew about Ethan proposing to me. Besides our parents, it was just this specific group of friends. Now it was definitely time to clear things up. Otherwise, it would always seem like I was the one being cheated on. So I said: “Ethan and I are already over. From now on, we are free to marry whomever we choose, and have nothing to do with each other!” After speaking, I directly hung up the phone. I didn’t care if Haley heard it or not. If they wanted to hide it from Haley, that was their business. I didn’t agree to keep playing the fool! Besides. Did Haley really not know? I don’t believe it! Downing the wine in my glass in one gulp, I was preparing to go to my room to sleep, but heard noisy sounds outside in the hallway. In the middle of the night, a noise complaint? I opened my penthouse door, just about to get mad, but saw Jax’s beaming face. “Good evening!” … “What are you doing?” He pointed to the apartment opposite mine: “Moving in!” I rubbed my temples with a headache. “Moving?” He nodded repeatedly: “If I don’t live on the same floor, how can it be considered personal protection? What if something happens to you when I’m not around?” I wanted to say: You’re overthinking it. But recalling Ethan’s crazy behavior a while ago, I hesitated. So I beckoned him over: “How much is the rent? I’ll reimburse you!” Jax didn’t hesitate at all, directly presenting the lease agreement. I was defeated by his unpretentious sincerity. “Keep it quiet, I need to sleep!” He zipped his lips and gave an OK sign. Nodding heavily, a look of “You can trust me!” I sighed and closed the door. I originally thought I’d hear some noise from the move, but realized it was truly dead silent. So silent that I fell peacefully asleep.

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More than three thousand years after my death, my tomb was finally discovered. Only then did I learn that later generations all called me a “Femme Fatale” who brought ruin upon the empire. Until one day, a team of archaeologists decoded my diary. They discovered that my life was never under my own control from the very beginning. They made a documentary about my life. The documentary was titled: A Lifetime Consumed: The Girl Who Fell Through Time. 01 My consciousness didn’t dissipate after I died. Instead, I was trapped within this underground mausoleum built for me. When the mausoleum was opened again, time within it began to flow once more. “We’ve finally found the tomb of the First Demon Queen of the Great Yin Dynasty!” Archaeologists swarmed in, holding cameras and live-streaming the excavation. Hearing the familiar accent, I felt a bit dazed. It had been so, so long since I heard modern English. “Chloe, write this down: October 27th, 3024 CE. The archaeological team has finally discovered the long-lost mausoleum of the First Demon Queen of the Great Yin Dynasty, hidden for over three thousand years. With this discovery, we might be able to unearth the three great unsolved mysteries of the Great Yin Dynasty!” Hearing this sentence, my thoughts became a bit chaotic. 3024 CE! Before I time-traveled, it was 3010 CE. I wonder if I can get some news about my parents from them? Thinking of this, I inexplicably felt a surge of excitement. But the excitement quickly cooled down. Even if it was only a fourteen-year difference, so what? I was already a female ghost who had been dead for over three thousand years. What could I possibly do? I couldn’t do anything. Chloe was a chubby little girl, still carrying a bit of the naive aura of a recent college grad. She was also quite excited. She recorded with the camera and provided background information to the viewers in the live stream. “The Great Yin Dynasty has a history of eight hundred years. It’s one of the oldest dynasties in our country. However, there are not many historical records about the Great Yin Dynasty. Much of our knowledge about its history comes from later theatrical adaptations and novels. “Among them, the most famous figure is the First Demon Queen of the Great Yin. “Legend has it that this Demon Queen was exceptionally cruel. It’s said that in 110 BCE, this Demon Queen burned a hundred thousand unarmed civilians alive in the city of Arcadia, just for her own amusement.” Chloe’s voice stretched my thoughts far back into the past. I remember that incident too. But things didn’t happen like that. There weren’t a hundred thousand, only three hundred. And I didn’t burn civilians alive for fun. That year, a massive plague erupted in Arcadia. The number of dead was increasing day by day. To prevent a secondary spread of the virus… I had no choice but to order the bodies of the deceased to be gathered and cremated collectively. But people in those days believed in treating the dead as if they were still alive. Burning a body meant severing the deceased’s ties to the afterlife. The agonizing screams of the city’s residents that day and the fiery red sky still seem to flash before my eyes. They cursed me: “Evelyn, you are a curse upon us all! You will die a horrible death, you will face the wrath of heaven!” 02 Chloe’s voice pulled me back. “A Femme Fatale? Perhaps! But what I’m saying is just hearsay. There’s no real historical evidence to back it up. We’re just chatting with you guys in the live stream for fun. “However, this Demon Queen of the Great Yin is indeed quite hated. All historical materials regarding her in the official records were erased. “There are only one or two sentences about her in a collection of unofficial histories called Secret Records of the Great Yin. It’s said the Demon Queen’s name was Evelyn Vance, and she was the second queen of Emperor Arthur the Cruel. “Before discovering this mausoleum, we always thought the Demon Queen was a fictional character invented in later novels.” Chloe squatted on the ground with the camera, excavating and explaining at the same time. And I squatted beside her and saw the bullet comments. [I really want to know how the Demon Queen died. In the novel Romance of the Great Yin, it says she died a gruesome death. I wonder if it’s true.] [It’s a novel, how could it be true? I’m actually curious about the relationship between the Demon Queen and Emperor Arthur’s first queen. Didn’t many historians speculate that the first queen was strangled to death by the Demon Queen?] [The three great unsolved mysteries of the Great Yin: the death of Emperor Arthur’s first queen, what crime the First Demon Queen Evelyn committed to be erased from history, and why Emperor Arthur had no heirs? Don’t forget, no matter how much later generations criticize Evelyn, she was a ruthless woman who extended the life of the Yin Dynasty for another two hundred years.] [But Evelyn was also a curse, right! Otherwise, how could Emperor Arthur marry a woman fifteen years older than him! And if it weren’t for her, many loyal ministers wouldn’t have died, and the Great Yin wouldn’t have been almost devoid of capable officials for the next two hundred years.] [Not only that, some historians speculate that Emperor Arthur having no heirs was also Evelyn’s doing. It’s said that Evelyn was infertile, and to secure her own position, she gave Emperor Arthur a sterilization potion!] The rapidly scrolling bullet comments caused my thoughts to violently snap back to over three thousand years ago. At that time, Emperor Arthur was just a newborn infant. The Great Yin was in turmoil. The previous emperor suddenly passed away without an heir, and all hopes rested on the Empress’s womb. She placed the newborn infant into my arms. Her eyes filled with tears: “Evelyn, the future of the Great Yin is in your hands.” With trembling hands, I held the baby girl. Outside the palace, a cold, continuous rain fell. Powerful ministers in their crimson court robes knelt on the stone tiles. I stepped out of the grand hall, which reeked of blood, raised the baby girl high, and declared loudly. “Her Majesty the Empress has given birth to a little prince! The Great Yin has an heir!” Nine chimes of the great bell rang out, and the frail Empress Dowager also passed away amidst the lingering drizzle. 03 Suddenly, Chloe seemed to have discovered something. She let out an exclamation, and the bullet comments became lively. I looked closely. It was a diary I had written in the past. “Professor, I think I found the journal of the First Demon Queen of the Great Yin!” Chloe was incredibly excited. The bullet comments were also scrolling rapidly: [This has to be a hoax! Why do I feel like the bottom right corner of this book cover is written in modern English script?!] [The person above, your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. I saw it too, it really is modern script.] [Could this be a modern forgery? Otherwise, how could modern English script be unearthed! Didn’t we unearth the writing system of the Yin Dynasty decades ago?] The professor took it carefully. His hands were trembling a bit. On the cover, the name “Evelyn” was clearly written. That was what I wrote after time-traveling, afraid I would be assimilated, to remind myself at all times. The first page read: [This is my first day after time-traveling. I don’t know why I came to this era. [I want to go home. This era is simply too terrifying. [Today, I saw a little maid accidentally drop a vase, and she had both her hands chopped off. [The head maid said, this is the price of being clumsy. [If we aren’t careful, her fate will be our fate. [Waaaaah, I want to go home. I miss my mom. [If only I could wake up from sleep and go home. [I’ll never make mom angry again. [Right, I need to write down where my home is. [It would be terrible if I forgot the way home when the time comes.] At that time, I had just graduated from high school. Although I was terrified right after time-traveling. But I was still very naive. I always thought someone would fall from the sky and take me home. … The neat, modern English letters were presented in front of everyone. [Wait, is this really not a joke? Doesn’t time travel only happen in novels?] [It’s written so vividly, there’s even a real address.] [Am I the only one who feels a bit creeped out? If this is true, how painful must it have been for her, what did she go through to become the First Demon Queen!] The bullet comments scrolled so fast I could barely read them. [I just looked up this address, and it’s actually real! And this family had a daughter who went missing ten years ago, it perfectly matches this diary.] However, this bullet comment was quickly pushed down by other comments, and no one noticed. 04 This diary unearthed from the mausoleum exceeded everyone’s expectations. Some hoped it was just a prank. Some thought it was a historic discovery in archaeology. Some were looking into whether what was recorded in the diary was true. Chloe, with trembling hands, opened the second page of the diary. Still modern English. … Several pages recorded the days I spent after time-traveling. Chloe flipped through them quickly and finally saw something different. [This is my tenth day after time-traveling, and I discovered I actually traveled to the historical Great Yin! [Oh my god, will I be able to meet the legendary First Demon Queen Evelyn, and the great tyrant posthumously named ‘The Cruel’? [I need to write this down. [I’m actually going to witness the course of history! [Wow, if I go back, I definitely have to publish a paper. [A small paper, easy peasy. [However, if we use the CE dating system, it should be BCE now! The year 1 CE hasn’t even arrived yet. [It should be October 21st, 221 BCE now.] At that time, I had no idea. I had already been swept into the vortex of history. I couldn’t escape, nor was there a way back. … The bullet comments also fell into a dead silence as Chloe flipped through the diary. [I really hope this is just a prank. Did Evelyn know that she was the Femme Fatale in history who would die a horrible death!] [This is too cruel. If I were Evelyn, I would have broken down immediately, suffering so much in a strange environment.] Looking at those comforting words on the bullet comments. I whispered, “Actually, I didn’t suffer that much, I was just a little tired.” Unfortunately, no one could hear this sentence. “Professor! Someone found Evelyn’s parents!” Just when I was feeling a bit sad, Chloe suddenly stood up. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of text rapidly scrolling across the bullet comments. [Hello, the Evelyn in this diary, I think I know her. She went missing ten years ago. I can contact her parents. I just sent them screenshots of the live stream. Could you please connect with Evelyn’s parents?] [Evelyn’s parents have been searching for her for ten years, almost all over the world. Evelyn’s mother has cried so much she’s almost blind. Evelyn’s father also got sick recently and is in very poor health.] 05 At this moment, everyone realized that Evelyn might really be a living, breathing person living in modern times. Chloe discussed it with the professor, because this was obviously against the rules. The professor looked at the diary, gritted his teeth, stomped his foot, and finally agreed. “Connect!” Hearing these words, I stood frozen in place. I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. I was also a little scared, even though over three thousand years had passed, I still remembered. My dad was a history professor, and my mom was a violinist. They loved me very much. I still remember the night before I time-traveled, I was still arguing with my mom. Because mom didn’t cook the cola chicken wings I wanted to eat. The connection was made quickly. A middle-aged man with half-gray hair appeared on the screen. He asked, “You found my Evy? Where is she, tell her to come home quickly!” Seeing Chloe didn’t react. He continued, “What happened to my Evy? It doesn’t matter, as long as she’s alive, it’s fine, even if she’s lost an arm or a leg, it doesn’t matter, her mother and I will take care of her.” Chloe still didn’t speak, just showed him a page of an inconsequential diary entry. She asked if it was his handwriting. Dad nodded repeatedly, “Yes, this is my Evy’s handwriting.” The moment I heard dad’s voice, I couldn’t hold it back anymore and started crying. I said, “Dad, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you angry in the past, I was wrong. “You raised me, and I made you run around for me for half your life, and in the end, you had to bury your own child.” But these words couldn’t reach his ears. He just looked at Chloe with expectation. Hoping to get some news from Chloe’s mouth. … Chloe couldn’t bear that kind of look and wanted to run. But the professor had already run away the moment the connection was made. With no other choice, Chloe braced herself and asked, “Uncle, do you know about time travel? Evelyn time-traveled.” Then, she showed him the diary in her hand, page by page, starting from the first. Dad fell silent. He asked, “Then did Evy have a good life after she time-traveled?” Chloe didn’t know how to answer, she could only ask, “Uncle, do you know the First Demon Queen of the Great Yin, Evelyn?” I mentioned earlier, my dad was a history professor. He had a very good memory. He said, “I know, the First Demon Queen of the Great Yin, Evelyn. The years of her birth and death are unknown. There is no specific record in official history, only a record in unofficial history stating that the First Demon Queen of the Great Yin was poisoned. After her death, her face was covered, and her mouth was stuffed with bran, meaning the Demon Queen would die a horrible death, and would not be allowed to reincarnate after death, nor find anyone to complain to…” As he spoke the last few words, his voice became somewhat strained. “Are you trying to say that my Evy is that First Demon Queen of the Yin Dynasty?” Chloe just said, “This is only a guess, but who knows, maybe it’s not the same Evelyn! There are many people with the same name in history, right?” But everyone knew this was just Chloe’s consolation. Everything that could be buried in the mausoleum as grave goods must be personal belongings. Moreover, this diary was preserved so well. [This is a bit too cruel! Parents who have searched for their child for decades, only to find out that their child actually time-traveled.] [What separates them is not natural disasters, nor human-made calamities, but time.] 06 The popularity of the live stream continued to rise, and more and more people flooded in. I greedily stared at my dad through the screen, who was visibly much older. Since the higher-ups hadn’t called to stop, Chloe could only continue the live stream. She flipped through the diary, showing its contents to them. … November 25th, 221 BCE. I accidentally broke my rice bowl today. The head maid scolded me, saying that since I broke the tool I use to eat, I shouldn’t eat. Going hungry, it’s so sad! The head maid punished me by making me sweep the snow in the Imperial Garden. In the Imperial Garden, I actually saw the Queen. The most famous biological mother of Emperor Arthur in the history books! The history books said she was jealous and ruthless, and any woman in the harem with some beauty would be disfigured by her and sent out of the palace. Therefore, when Emperor Arthur’s father was on the throne, there was only one Empress. But she was really gentle, completely different from what the history books say. When she caught me looking at her, not only did she not punish me, she actually gave me two pieces of osmanthus cake. She asked how old I was, and said I was still a child, how did I enter the palace. Sigh, I kind of miss mom. I wonder if mom misses me, I really, really want to go home! When I get home, I’ll definitely treat old dad to a big meal. … November 28th, 221 BCE. It’s too scary, I almost died today. Luckily the Queen passed by and saved me. The Queen is really so good! The history books are all lying, I have to write this down properly. When I go back, I definitely have to have a good talk with old dad, that old geezer. How could this Queen be bad, this Queen is really too good! However, today I also saw Emperor Arthur’s father. It’s still five years before Emperor Arthur is born. It feels like a long time! I wonder if I can live to see Emperor Arthur. And that famous Demon Queen. But right now, the Demon Queen should be a ten-year-old girl just like me! I wonder what the Demon Queen looked like when she was little. I searched the entire Spring Greeting Palace, but I didn’t see a little girl around my age. The unofficial histories are indeed lying! … [Evelyn’s diary is written so cutely! My history isn’t very good, is there a record of Evelyn in unofficial histories?] [It’s recorded in Demon Queen Secrets that Evelyn entered the Everlasting Spring Palace in 221 BCE, which is why Empress Dowager Anne entrusted the orphan to her before she died. After that, Evelyn carried the young emperor to the throne and began her rule of over twenty years.] What the bullet comments said was not false. I indeed carried the little emperor to the throne, and it was then that I realized. It turned out there was no second Evelyn in the harem. And I was the famous, disastrous Demon Queen Evelyn in history. “Indeed it is so. According to limited historical records, to prevent Emperor Arthur from ruling independently, Evelyn ordered the execution of many loyal ministers. She also executed three hundred officials from the southern provinces at the mouth of the Shadow River, causing a fault in cultural exchanges in the southern region. This was also a major reason why the Great Yin descended into ten years of chaos later on. “Murdering loyal subjects, undertaking massive construction projects, these were all the main arguments for Evelyn later being called the Demon Queen.” Hearing this, I almost laughed out loud. So, after my death, this is what those historians said about me. I lowered my eyes. Actually, I can’t blame them. Someone half a step ahead of their time is a genius. Someone too many steps ahead of their time is a madman. The things I did had already touched the interests of that era. When I was alive, I anticipated that they would smear my name. After all, history is written by the victors. I still remember that year, Emperor Arthur was fifteen and preparing to rule independently. It coincided with floods in the southern provinces. Those powerful ministers used this as an excuse to force him to issue an edict of self-criticism. The small person was full of grievance, asking me why, when it clearly wasn’t her fault, she had to issue an edict of self-criticism. They wanted to wear down the young emperor’s spirit, to show her who was boss. I told Emperor Arthur not to be afraid, I would help her. I went to the southern provinces myself to control the floods. But in the hellish southern provinces, I saw clearly the murky corruption beneath the surface of the Great Yin. The officials in the southern provinces protected each other, deeply entrenched. The disaster relief grain from the imperial court couldn’t reach the hands of the people at all. Holding the sword Emperor Arthur bestowed upon me, I executed three hundred corrupt southern officials at the mouth of the Shadow River. The people knelt on both banks of the river, shouting that Justice Evelyn had come, and they were saved. But in the surging floodwaters, I caught a glimpse of my predetermined future. 07 “But I don’t think Evelyn would do these things.” Chloe’s voice pulled my thoughts back. “Perhaps, today we will all witness history. Everything about Evelyn in history might be overturned.” My dad on the other end of the live stream had disconnected at some unknown time. But I knew he must still be there right now. Just as Chloe wanted to say something more, the professor’s excited voice suddenly rang out. “Chloe, come here quickly, we found the epitaph of Emperor Arthur’s first queen!” The bullet comments also flooded the screen at this moment. [So fast, will this epitaph reveal the cause of death of the first queen!] [I really want to know if Evelyn actually murdered the first queen. After reading Evelyn’s diary, my belief in the title ‘Demon Queen’ is wavering a bit.] I followed Chloe and floated into another burial chamber. The professor’s hands trembled as he touched the tombstone, tears streaming down his old face: “We found it, we finally found it. We studied the history of the Yin Dynasty our whole lives, and now we’ve finally found the missing history.” Chloe also leaned in to look. The signature on this epitaph was Evelyn. [Holy shit, what’s going on here? Didn’t they say Evelyn and Emperor Arthur’s first queen fought like cats and dogs? Shouldn’t the epitaph be written by the person with the closest relationship?] [This is insane, all the history regarding this part of Emperor Arthur in the Yin Dynasty is going to be overturned.] [Can someone explain what’s written on the epitaph?] [Yin Dynasty history researcher here. Although it makes me want to cry that what I studied has been overturned, I’ll still come out and interpret what’s written on the epitaph for you! [Emperor Arthur’s first queen was the eldest legitimate daughter of the prominent Montgomery family of River Run, named Victoria Montgomery. She married Emperor Arthur when she came of age at fifteen. What follows describes how impressive Victoria’s family background was and how excellent her character was. [Unfortunately, she died young, poisoned to death at the age of nineteen. [Note that this is the first time in all unearthed literature that there is a direct description of the cause of death of Emperor Arthur’s first queen, Victoria. [In other words, Victoria wasn’t killed by Evelyn, but was poisoned.] [But this epitaph was written by Evelyn! How do we know if Evelyn deliberately wrote a fake epitaph to cover up her tracks.] Their excavation work continued. Chloe wasn’t in a hurry to read the diary anymore; she started searching this burial chamber for written records concerning Victoria. I squatted on the ground, tracing the words on the epitaph through the air. Victoria’s voice seemed to echo in my ears. She said: “Sister Evelyn, when will you take me out to play!” Victoria was the queen chosen for Emperor Arthur by the civil officials the year she began her independent rule. Hailing from the Montgomery family of River Run, she was the legitimate daughter of Chancellor Montgomery. Actually, I didn’t understand how a person rotten to the core like Chancellor Montgomery could raise such a sincere daughter like Victoria. She loved to laugh, loved to play, but was also sensible. When she first entered the palace, Emperor Arthur and I were wary of her. Firstly, we were afraid she was a spy sent by Chancellor Montgomery to keep an eye on Emperor Arthur. Secondly, we were afraid she would discover the truth that Emperor Arthur was actually a girl. But despite all our precautions, we ultimately failed to guard against her. At that time, the news of my trip to the southern provinces where I angrily executed three hundred corrupt officials reached the capital. Those people were afraid, afraid I would return to the palace and settle scores with them. So they decided to go all the way and simply poisoned Emperor Arthur. After Victoria found out, she begged Chancellor Montgomery to find an antidote for Emperor Arthur. But how could Chancellor Montgomery truly wish for Emperor Arthur’s recovery. So, Victoria also drank the poison. She said: “Father, if you still want your daughter, then find the antidote for your daughter!” Although Chancellor Montgomery’s heart was rotten, he loved this daughter the most. Emperor Arthur didn’t die because of this. To prevent others from doing harm again, Victoria took close care of Emperor Arthur. It was also then that she discovered the truth of the matter. She told me: “Sister Evelyn, I didn’t tell my father about this, I didn’t tell anyone, I know everything. “I married Arthur, then I am Arthur’s queen, regardless of her gender. I protect her just like I protect my own life. “If they want to harm Arthur, they’ll have to kill me first!” Perhaps it was a prophecy. Victoria ultimately really died to protect Arthur. She took the grudges between Chancellor Montgomery and us into the deep underground. 08 “Look here, there’s a wooden box here!” Chloe suddenly became excited as if she found something: “Anyone who watches live streams frequently knows that the Yin Dynasty was a dynasty that paid great attention to ghosts and spirits. They believed in treating the dead as if they were still alive. “This kind of wooden box is usually used to store things the owner valued most while alive. “Perhaps inside, we can find what we want to know!” Chloe carefully opened the box. There were only three items inside. A blood-stained dagger—the one Victoria used to commit suicide. A phoenix pendant—the token of queens of the Yin Dynasty through generations. A well-preserved letter—the last words Victoria left for us. Seeing the long-dried bloodstains, my thoughts seemed to drift back to that snowy night over three thousand years ago. The heavy snow weighed down the green bamboo outside the house, snapping with a loud crack, and the oil lamp popped a cluster of sparks. I was processing memorials led by Chancellor Montgomery. They demanded to clear the emperor’s side of evil advisors, to execute the sycophants. In other words, they wanted to kill me. I rubbed the somewhat coarse paper. Actually, I wasn’t afraid of death. What I feared was that before I died, I wouldn’t have accomplished everything I wanted to do. That I wouldn’t have changed the tragedy of this era. The corruption in the southern provinces made me realize the suffering of the common people at the bottom. I wanted to change all this, but my actions undoubtedly touched the interests of the powerful aristocratic families. Around midnight, a piece of news suddenly came from the palace. The imperial physician said Her Majesty the Queen was not going to make it. I felt a sense of absurdity. How could a perfectly healthy person just not make it? History clearly recorded that Queen Victoria was murdered by Evelyn. And I hadn’t done anything; I had even placed many people around her to protect her. What exactly was going on? I entered the palace in the dead of night. The moment I stepped into the Everlasting Spring Palace, I smelled the strong scent of blood. Victoria’s face was as pale as gold, and blood was continuously welling from her neck wrapped in gauze. When she saw me, her tears fell uncontrollably. She said: “Sister Evelyn, I didn’t expect that it was my father who harmed you!” The hall was extremely quiet, and her hands were almost cold. The blood-stained dagger lay quietly on the ground. She held my hand with effort: “I’m sorry, Sister Evelyn, I’m really sorry, it was my father who harmed you, I’m really sorry.” At the end of her life, she was still full of guilt. By the time Emperor Arthur arrived, Victoria had already lost her breath. The Queen of Wisdom and Sensitivity, known for her gentle and mild nature, finally died in the deep winter of 197 BCE. Before Victoria died, she left a posthumous edict asking Emperor Arthur to make me the succeeding queen after her death. She traded her life for my safety and the stability of Emperor Arthur’s throne. Victoria paved the way for us, and she explained everything clearly in her suicide note. Saying she was paying for her father’s sins. However, for a concubine to commit suicide was a capital offense. To ensure Victoria could rest in peace after death, no one dared to spread the news of what happened that night. That suicide note was also hidden in the box by me, serving as a burial object for Victoria. The following year, I had thirty corrupt officials led by Chancellor Montgomery executed. Only then did I understand how the historical reputation of the Demon Queen slaughtering loyal subjects came to be. I was swept along by history, becoming a part of the force driving history forward. … [No way, Victoria actually committed suicide, and Chancellor Montgomery was actually a treacherous minister? Then what about the history I learned before where Chancellor Montgomery was a loyal minister persecuted by the Demon Queen???] [The person above, your efforts are acknowledged.] [So, Victoria and Evelyn actually had a very good relationship, and Victoria strongly supported Evelyn.] After Chloe saw the suicide note clearly, her hands were also constantly trembling. She said: “This is simply a historic moment. Look, this suicide note is clearly Victoria’s own handwriting. A few years ago, in an unearthed Yin Dynasty tomb, there was also a calligraphy and painting by Queen Victoria. This suicide note also has the seal of the queen at that time; no one else could forge it.” [I can’t even, I want to cry. How painful this must have been! In a strange dynasty, unable to understand the local language, constantly struggling to live, wanting to change everything, only to find out that nothing can be changed, and she was just a cog in the wheel of history.] [So Evelyn knew the ending of everyone, including her own, knew the ending and still had to keep walking towards her own death. How painful that must have been. She was just a little girl at the beginning!] [I don’t dare to imagine how painful it must be for Evelyn’s parents watching the live stream. Watching history that has already happened, trying to find their daughter’s future.] Seeing the bullet comments mention my parents again, my heart also inexplicably twitched. After calming her turbulent emotions, Chloe prepared to start flipping through the diary in her hand. She said: “Everyone, don’t rush. There is no clear record of Evelyn’s ending in history. Maybe the historical death of Evelyn was actually a faked death? Maybe Evelyn had long gone off to travel the world, who knows, after all, she was so smart.” The bullet comments also became active at this moment. But I was begging Chloe not to continue the live stream. “Please, don’t read anymore, at least not in front of the live stream.” If my parents knew how much I suffered during those years, how heartbroken they would be. When I was little, if I scraped my hand, mom would be heartbroken. She blamed the ground for tripping her Evy. Dad stomped hard on the ground that tripped me, saying it was all because the ground was uneven, otherwise how could Evy have fallen. If they saw that I was bullied by so many people in a strange place. How heartbroken they would be. But unfortunately, Chloe didn’t have the third eye, nor any divine powers. She couldn’t hear my voice, nor could she see my pleas. Slowly, in front of the camera, she opened that diary.

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In our past life, my twin sister and I were adopted separately by a wealthy man’s mistress and his legitimate wife. Under the maneuvering of the mistress, my adopted mother, I debuted as a child star, becoming a household name and an award-winning actress. Meanwhile, my sister, raised by the neglected wife, became a marginalized figure in high society after graduating from college. After I became famous, the media constantly compared us, mocking her: [The fake socialite should just come to the entertainment industry and be a stand-in for our Best Actress.] On the day a powerful tycoon successfully proposed to me, my sister suddenly went insane and dragged me into a murder-suicide. Reborn back in the orphanage, in this life, she avoided the legitimate wife like the plague. “Sister, it’s your turn to go to the wealthy family and suffer!” Hilarious. She actually doesn’t want the kind of resources that would make anyone drool, the kind of life that puts you right at the finish line. 1 The wealthiest couple in Seattle paid a low-key visit to the orphanage, looking to adopt a daughter. When we reached the door, my sister absolutely refused to go in. “You stubborn girl, you’re usually the first to push to the front. Why aren’t you grabbing this amazing opportunity?” The director, furious, pinched her ear. She yelled in pain: “I’d rather not have this kind of ‘blessing’! Some people look rich on the outside, but nobody knows how miserable their lives actually are!” The director turned pale with fright and quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. Inside the room, Richard Sterling stood up, kicking his chair aside. “Hah! If you can’t even stand to live with yourself, why bother acting so pathetic!” “Let’s go! Are we just going to stay here and be a laughingstock?” Elena Sterling didn’t get angry. She just pointed a finger at me. “Is there still one more here?” My sister said sarcastically, “Sister, you go. It’s a wealthy family, you’ll be eating well and living a happy life.” Although Elena was somewhat surprised by my sister’s hostility, she quickly shifted her gaze back to me. I nodded eagerly. She smiled faintly, standing up. “Then let’s go handle the paperwork.” Richard let out a cold sneer and actually just abandoned her, turning on his heel and leaving, his back radiating anger. In that moment, everyone knew that the relationship between the billionaire couple was atrocious. My sister glared resentfully at Elena’s retreating back and muttered under her breath, “Good-for-nothing!” Everyone thought she had lost her mind. Offending the Sterling family so blatantly, who would dare adopt her now? But she was entirely unbothered. When we said our goodbyes, she whispered in my ear, “Sister, you have no chance. In this life, I’m going to take away that mother who schemed for you.” I smiled too. She was right, there was no chance. After pulling this stunt, even if my sister wanted to back out, it was too late. 2 Not only did my sister dare to offend Elena, but she was also prepared to be enemies with her for the rest of this life. In our past life, to ensure she was adopted by Elena, she poured water on my blanket in the middle of the night, causing me to wake up with a high fever. With her biggest competitor out of the way, she got her wish and was adopted by the wealthy family. I originally thought our lives would be worlds apart from then on. But I didn’t expect— Right after she was taken away, Richard’s mistress, Fiona Vance, brought a swarm of media reporters to the orphanage, specifically asking to adopt me. Fiona ripped off my fever-reducing patch, dressed me in new clothes, and took photos and gave interviews for the media. The mistress and the legitimate wife adopting twin sisters at the same time—this news naturally became a trending topic. My face was flushed, my eyes hazy and adorable, and netizens swooned over how cute I was. Coupled with public speculation that Fiona had ulterior motives for adopting me, I received unprecedented attention. Fiona, who started as an internet influencer, seized the opportunity to launch my career as a child star. I had endless gigs, and she gained massive traffic. Even Richard publicly favored me, allowing me to call him “Dad.” Compared to our rapid rise to fame, the legitimate wife, Elena, never responded or fought back against our blatant provocations. Even when Fiona brought me to confront her directly multiple times, she just smiled faintly, avoiding our sharp edges. Her passive, non-confrontational attitude made my sister, who was living with her, suffer a lot of neglect and mockery. Every time I met with my sister, she was always full of jealousy and frustration, furious that Elena wasn’t fighting back. In the years that followed, I sang and danced my way to the top, my career path smooth sailing. My sister, on the other hand, entered an elite private school. Her weekends were filled with various tutoring sessions and private coaches, living under strict discipline. Elena, coming from a prestigious family after all, naturally planned for her daughter’s future. After graduating from college, she arranged a marriage of equal social standing for my sister. For my sister, who had no inheritance rights and was already marginalized in the wealthy family, this was her only chance to turn her life around. That day, she posted a private message on her social media, visible only to me: [The good-for-nothing finally did one good thing! Now I understand. Actors are just actors, and the mother and daughter are the same. At best, they are just playthings for the rich.] When Fiona got the news, she was furious. “You rejected all your suitors just to elevate the third young master of the Harrison family? Is he only giving you a few million dollars’ worth of jewelry?!” She said with bitter jealousy, “Elena shouldn’t even think about winning, not even once!” Unable to become the legal wife after more than a decade, she hated Elena with a passion, and her actions became increasingly erratic. Later, reporters caught her and the third young master Harrison spending the night at a hotel. When the media asked him about his engagement to my sister, he flatly denied it. “That was just an arrangement by the families. Just a business stunt.” The day I won the Best Actress award, the third young master Harrison deployed a fleet of helicopters to propose to me. The flowers and fireworks that night echoed throughout the city. Some media intercepted Elena and my sister, asking for their thoughts on the matter. Elena only replied faintly, “Everyone has their own ambitions. You can’t force things.” My sister’s years of resentment and frustration finally exploded. She lost control of her expression, abandoned Elena, and stormed off alone. The original wife and the mistress of the Sterling family had fought for years with no clear winner or loser. But the lives of us two daughters would be worlds apart from then on. She went crazy, drove her car into mine, and took us both down together. 3 In this life, my sister got her wish and was adopted by Fiona. The internet was full of trending topics about them. When Richard was asked if Fiona’s actions were deliberately provoking his wife, he looked doting. “She can be a bit impulsive, but I believe she’ll be responsible for the child.” The next day, Fiona arrogantly declared: “Some people boast about coming from a prestigious family. I’d like to see whose upbringing produces a more successful child!” This statement was practically grinding Elena’s face into the dirt. Elena didn’t respond. She was very busy. She had company executives behind her, she had to personally select schools and interview private tutors for me, and she also tutored me in my homework at night. When Richard didn’t come home at night, she would let me sleep in her bed. Holding her soft, fragrant body, I slept more peacefully than I ever had before. This kind of genuine affection, liking, and companionship without any ulterior motives—my sister surprisingly didn’t know how to cherish it. The heat of the adoption news slowly died down, but Fiona’s provocations never stopped. A month later, Richard made a rare return to the Sterling mansion. Fiona followed right on his heels. We were in the middle of eating when she flew like a butterfly into Richard’s arms. “Our precious daughter got the endorsement for the Hughes brand. You promised you’d celebrate with us.” My sister, her eyes red and looking aggrieved, tugged at his hem. “Uncle Richard—” Fiona’s eyes widened, and she playfully scolded, “Why are you calling him Uncle? Call him Dad.” My sister glanced at Elena and shrank her neck, not daring to make a sound. Richard tapped his fingers lightly on the table, a half-smile on his face. Fiona’s eyes sparkled. “Chloe, are you afraid that because you offended Miss Elena the other day, she’s blaming you?” “Adoption is about destiny. Kids are kids; they like who they like, and dislike who they dislike. That’s perfectly understandable.” Richard put down his soup bowl. “Elena, what do you say?” Elena pulled me up, her expression calm. “This is your own business.” Richard’s face stiffened, and he ground his teeth. “Fine!” He scooped my sister up and sat her on his lap. “From now on, you call me Dad. Let’s see who dares to object!” My sister pointed a finger at me. “Dad, what about her?” “That’s someone else’s business. We don’t care.” When we left the living room, the mother and daughter had already sat down, continuing to eat with Richard. Even from afar, we could still hear their laughter. Back in the study, Elena asked me, “Are you upset?” I grinned and shook my head. I was so happy not to call Richard “Dad.” I had called him that enough in my past life to make me sick. She nodded, a hint of warmth entering her usually indifferent expression. “You just focus on your studies.” Before going to sleep, she had a rare, serious conversation with me. “Evelyn, even though your last name is Sterling, the Sterling family’s assets have nothing to do with you. Your dad—your Uncle Richard—had a son before we got married. Don’t fight for it, don’t even think about it; adopting you was my personal decision, and I will be responsible for you.” I nodded, hesitating for a moment before asking, “Mom, are you unwilling to have a child with him?” “You just need to know that he and I won’t have children.” In our past life, they indeed never had children. The outside world had speculated how long their marriage could last, but Richard never mentioned divorce. Instead, one time Elena was photographed meeting a male friend. Richard actually lost his composure on the spot, flew into a rage, and threatened to make life a living hell for that media outlet. This caused Fiona to go crazy that day, smashing everything in her house to pieces. 4 On my way home from school, the car was suddenly forced to stop. My sister, dressed to the nines, tapped on my window. Seeing me holding a book, she clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Sister, the pressure of studying must be suffocating, right? Is that old witch still giving you a curfew, making you be home by five o’clock?” “It’s hilarious. That old witch gave you the title of a socialite, but in the end, you still have to be kicked out to become a corporate drone, working for someone else!” She lifted her skirt and twirled in place. “Sister, a monthly salary of ten thousand is the peak of your ambitions, unlike me, who can gain both fame and fortune.” “And in this life, you’ll be even more miserable than me. Following the legal wife, you don’t even have the right to call him ‘Dad’.” She was extremely smug. “Sister, I’m better than you. I won over Richard in just one month. Do you know how many benefits that one word ‘Dad’ has brought me?” She expected to see me look hurt and disappointed. But I just examined her body, which was even thinner than when she was in the orphanage, and the dark circles under her eyes that makeup couldn’t hide. I smiled faintly: “Singing, dancing, doing gigs, working non-stop. Is it really easier than me studying?” Fiona was never a reasonable person. Taking advantage of the hype, she would try to squeeze every last drop of value out of my sister in the shortest time possible. In our past life, my sister only saw me looking beautiful and put-together, not having to study. Comparing my glamorous appearance to the boredom of her studies. Naturally, she thought it was bitter and gloomy. Only when she actually tasted hardship would she understand that the hardship of studying wasn’t really hardship at all. “I don’t believe you don’t understand that you’re nothing but a tool for Fiona to please Richard and provoke my mom.” I observed her prematurely developed body. “Also, if Fiona forces you to take pills, you’d better get them checked first.” Her expression changed drastically. “What pills?! Don’t talk nonsense! Hah, Sister, you just don’t want me to get the same treatment you did! You’re afraid I’ll be as successful as you were!” I shook my head and stopped trying to persuade her. Sooner or later, she would understand that for kids like us who lack natural talent as child stars, standing firm in the entertainment industry on hype alone is never easy. Coupled with Fiona’s obsession with marrying Richard. Now that she could play the loving mother-daughter card with her, if day after day went by and she still couldn’t become the legal wife, her manic depression would become harder and harder to suppress. In our past life, she forced me to climb the ladder using any means necessary, suppressing Elena to fight for favor and attract Richard’s attention. When Richard got a new flavor of the month, she would blame me for being useless, pinching my thighs and back until they were bruised to vent her anger. Later, afraid of being discovered, she switched to using needles. “Keep your mouth shut tight! I can make you famous, and I can make you lose everything!” It wasn’t until I was 15 and won my first major award that she finally stopped daring to lay a hand on me. The four words “marrying into wealth” was her dream, but it was my absolute worst nightmare. I didn’t understand. Fiona actually had many opportunities in her life. If she had just worked a little harder, she could have become wealthy on her own. Yet she chose to live like a parasitic, grasping weed. She was smug about Richard’s affection, flaunting her designer bags, clothes, shoes, and diamond rings. But she was blind to Elena using her status as Mrs. Sterling to turn the struggling Sterling Enterprises into a booming business, increasing her personal net worth to the top ten of the wealthy list. She fought tooth and nail to secure a tiny spot in the entertainment gossip columns, completely ignoring that Elena was a regular in the financial section. Not only was Fiona obsessed, but my sister was too. In our past life, when she stood at the peak, all she could see was the false prosperity that Fiona and I deliberately presented. Using a man’s cheap favoritism to define the victory or defeat between the legal wife and the mistress was too foolish. 5 Before long, I skipped two grades, and studying felt effortless. So I boldly proposed to Elena that I wanted to try my hand at the stock market. “Mom, I promise it won’t affect my studies.” She didn’t agree on the spot, but silently observed me for a month before handing over her personal account to me. The account had a starting capital of ten thousand dollars. I was overjoyed and hugged her, giving her a kiss. She patted my head, smiling as she asked, “You didn’t curse me for being stingy in your heart, did you?” I stuck my tongue out. “I know, you were afraid I’d get distracted from my studies.” “If you lose money, come find me.” I nodded, but couldn’t hide the smug look on my face. Losing money was definitely not going to happen. Life became enriching like this. I was busy studying and trading stocks, while Elena was busy expanding Sterling Enterprises. Fiona, with my sister’s cooperation, kept Richard so captivated he didn’t want to leave. My sister also benefited from Richard’s influence, starting to act in TV dramas, coming into contact with the film industry even earlier than I did in my past life. But Richard always managed to remember us from time to time. That night, I was suddenly jolted awake. In the darkness, a massive, dark figure was pressing down on Elena. “Get out! Don’t wake Evelyn up.” She yelled in a low voice. “Hah, you’re getting addicted to playing mom, aren’t you? Why don’t we have one of our own.” In the dark, the sound of fabric tearing echoed continuously. My eyes instantly turned bloodshot. I rolled out of bed, grabbed Richard’s arm, and bit down viciously! “Hiss! You little bastard, get off!” He swung his arm forcefully. Elena screamed, “Evelyn!” Like a little calf, I used my hands and feet, clinging onto Richard and refusing to let go, biting down even deeper. My eyes revealed a fierce determination; he was not going to bully my mom! Enraged, Richard grabbed my hair fiercely. Elena finally stopped holding back, rushing forward and wrestling with him. Finally, Richard lost all interest, cursed under his breath, “This little brat better let go, I won’t touch you tonight, alright?!” Elena hugged me, comforting me for a long time before I warily let go. Then, two teeth, stained with blood, fell out. After a furious Richard left, I cried, my eyes red. “Mom, I don’t want him. Can we divorce him, please?” I knew better than anyone that Elena didn’t love Richard. Especially when gossip about Richard spending the night at Fiona’s surfaced; the disgust in her eyes was uncontrollable. “Evelyn, now is not the time.” She closed her eyes wearily. “No, we can!” I immediately showed her the long string of zeros in my stock market account. Her eyes widened slightly. “Evelyn, you—” “Is this enough?” She dressed me and took me out to get my wounds treated. “This isn’t something you should be thinking about right now.” It wasn’t until my 15th birthday. She suddenly wanted to change my last name, having a massive argument with Richard. “You have a son and a daughter. Evelyn has always called you Uncle. Whether she has the last name Sterling or not has no impact on you.” A hint of frustration flashed in Richard’s eyes, and he left angrily. From then on, I became Evelyn Vance. Elena brought me to the company, and I spent every winter and summer vacation in her office. At first, I just traded stocks, but later I gradually helped her handle official business and got familiar with the group’s affairs. On my 18th birthday, Elena took me to a charity gala, officially introducing me to her network of resources. I knew that from now on, I was thoroughly heading towards a completely different life than my past one. While I was focused on talking with several senior business figures, Richard arrived with Fiona and my sister. Richard walked towards the main hall. My sister saw me and wanted to follow him in, but was stopped by Richard. She stood in place, stamping her feet, glaring at me resentfully. As soon as Richard entered, he reprimanded me. “Adults are discussing business, what is a child doing here? Get out!” Elena and I exchanged a glance, politely said goodbye to everyone, and obediently exited. Just as we walked into the front hall. “Evelyn, over here!” My nominal brother waved at me, surrounded by a group of teenage boys and girls. My sister was clinging to the arm of the third young master Harrison, looking very intimate. Seeing this, she had moved on the third young master Harrison very early in this life. 6 “You should really rein her in. Is the organizer’s area somewhere she should be? She’s completely embarrassing the Sterling family.” My sister was still indignant about not being able to follow Richard to the main hall earlier. “You have a good mother, so you can go too!” my stepbrother retorted with a bad attitude. The third young master Harrison smiled and tried to smooth things over. “Why bother? Chloe isn’t in our circle anyway.” Then he explained to my sister, “President Vance is grooming Evelyn as her successor. It’s different for us.” It would have been better if he hadn’t said that. My sister’s face instantly flushed crimson, deeply ashamed and furious. “What kind of magic potion did you feed Elena?!” she glared at me fiercely. “Hah, you should stop talking and embarrassing yourself.” The eldest daughter of the Montgomery family, who had been silent the whole time, let out a cold sneer and interjected, “Good thing President Vance is a woman, otherwise people would start spreading rumors that Evelyn is just good in bed.” My stepbrother chimed in with ambiguous meaning, “Evelyn really does sleep in the same bed as my mom. I’m even getting jealous.” The crowd burst into laughter. A hint of impatience flashed in the third young master Harrison’s eyes. “If you don’t understand, then don’t speak. The major project Vance Enterprises recently successfully bid on was handled by Evelyn.” My sister finally realized the current situation and stopped targeting me. When I went to the restroom, she followed me in, asking impatiently, “What methods did you use on my brother? Why is he defending you so much!” I adjusted my hair in the mirror. “What, did you guys not get along well before?” She glared at me, her eyes shooting fire. I smiled, no longer teasing her. “I don’t have the last name Sterling, and I won’t take a single cent from the Sterling family. Why would he make things difficult for me?” “And what about Elena?! She’s always been cold-blooded and selfish—” “Shut up!” I interrupted, my face turning cold. “She is the best mother in the world. Don’t ever let me hear you attack her again.” “So what if I say it!” She puffed out her chest and stepped aggressively toward me. “I’ll say whatever I want! She’s just a heartless old witch!” I raised my hand slightly. But thinking about the occasion today, I put it back down. My sister, however, wasn’t having it. She went crazy at me, then suddenly covered her face and ran out. By the time I walked back to the front hall, she had disturbed everyone. Richard had his arm around my sister, facing off against Elena. My sister’s cheeks were flushed, her hair disheveled, crying like a delicate flower in the rain. Her proud cleavage trembled as she sobbed into Richard’s arms. If she hadn’t constantly called Richard “Dad,” this scene would have easily sparked people’s imaginations. Fiona cried, “I can understand Evelyn taking her anger out on someone, but she should come at me! What kind of person bullies my daughter?” “She has a shoot tomorrow. Beating her face like this, isn’t that clearly trying to ruin her career?” Richard rubbed his thumb against my sister’s cheek, glaring coldly at Elena. “Tell Evelyn to come out right now and apologize to Chloe. Is this how you raise a child?!” I walked up slowly. “Uncle Richard, before blaming the legal wife and backing up your mistress and her daughter, shouldn’t you figure out what actually happened first?” Richard’s cold eyes narrowed. “Say that again.” Mr. Hayes, the organizer, hesitated for a moment before trying to persuade him. “Mr. Sterling, Evelyn was just—” “Evelyn bullying me is one thing, but she doesn’t even respect you, Dad! She called you a ‘dirty cucumber’ and said we’re the only ones desperate enough to want you.” My sister yelled. “I wasn’t having it, so she beat me up like this.” Richard grabbed my neck. “Who the hell do you think you are! You’re dead!” “You’re dead.” My sister mouthed silently at me, confident of her victory. I glared coldly at Richard, not begging for mercy. He had wanted to kill me for a long time. From the initial distant “Uncle Richard,” to me being a third wheel between him and my mom for years, plus the two deep bite marks on his arm. The feeling of suffocation hit me like an ocean wave, but I gritted my teeth and didn’t make a sound. “Do you know that being this stubborn just makes me want to destroy you? Hah, you think Elena will protect you?” Richard sneered, his eyes turning bloodthirsty as he ordered, “Elena, I’m giving you three days to send this little bastard back to the slums.” “I want her to spend the rest of her life in a gutter, never able to turn her life around!”

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When college started, my parents bought me a $3,000 mattress. But the moment it entered the dorm, my roommate completely lost her mind. “Three thousand dollars? Is this mattress going to guarantee you a spot in grad school or turn you into a literal angel?” She looked at my new mattress like it was covered in filth, her lips curling in disgust. “This kind of extravagant, corrupt behavior is exactly what we college students need to eradicate!” “Our dorm is trying to win the ‘Model Room’ award, and you’re going to ruin our reputation!” I picked at my ear and looked at her like she was an idiot. “I spent my own money. What the hell does it have to do with you?” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her, so I went home for the weekend. When I came back, my bed was gone. In its place was a bare, wooden board. And my roommate was standing there, lost in her grand delusion of being a “student leader ridding the people of evil.” “I took care of the mattress for you. I cut out the memory foam and gave it to some low-income students to use as seat cushions, and I gave the springs to the art department for an installation project. Upcycling!” “I’ve also applied with the Resident Advisor to manage your scholarship and allowance from now on, to help you develop the good habit of being frugal.” I laughed out of sheer anger. Right in front of her, I dialed 911. You want to be a leader that badly? Let me send you to the police station to experience what real communal living is like. 1. On the first day of college, my parents insisted on helping me move into the dorm, bringing along the mattress they had ordered well in advance. When the movers hauled the beautifully packaged mattress into the four-person dorm room, the space instantly felt a bit cramped. My other two roommates, Lily and Mia, just looked on with curiosity. Only Chloe, who had the bed by the window, eyed my parents’ clothes critically from the moment we walked in. Finally, her gaze landed on the brand logo of the mattress. My dad directed the movers to unwrap it and place it securely on my bed frame, then laid out the bedding he had personally picked out. “Evelyn, take good care of yourself at school. If you need more money, just let me know,” my mom said, anxiously organizing my desk. “The dorm is a bit basic, so just make do for now. I’ve already asked your dad to look at apartments near the campus.” I smiled and pushed them toward the door. “I know, I know. You guys head back now. I can handle myself.” After seeing my parents off, I turned around and met Chloe’s eyes. Her gaze was like a loaded gun, ready to fire and draw blood. She held a student handbook and slowly sauntered over to my bed, pressing down hard on the brand-new mattress. “Evelyn, right? I’m the Room Captain, and I’m also on the Disciplinary Committee of the Student Government. My name is Chloe.” With every title she listed, her chin lifted an inch higher. I nodded, considering that a greeting. But she wouldn’t let it go, pointing at my mattress, her voice suddenly rising. “This mattress must have cost a fortune, right?” I didn’t like her interrogative tone, so I replied flatly. “It’s okay. My parents got it for me.” “Okay?” Chloe scoffed as if she’d heard the funniest joke in the world. “I know this brand. The cheapest one is four figures. Looking at the thickness and style of this one, it’s gotta be at least three thousand dollars, right?” Her voice was so loud that Lily and Mia stopped what they were doing and stared at me. I frowned, feeling annoyed. “And so?” “And so?” Chloe slammed her hand on the desk, her face turning red. “Evelyn, do you even know what college is for? College is a place for you to learn and develop a humble character, not a place to show off your wealth!” “A three thousand dollar mattress? Is sleeping on that going to get you into a top grad program or turn you into a god?” She spoke with righteous indignation, as if I had committed some heinous crime. “If word gets out about this extravagant, corrupt behavior, think of the impact it will have on our school’s reputation!” “As a student leader, I absolutely cannot tolerate this kind of thing happening!” I was genuinely amused by her impassioned speech. “I spent my own money to buy something to sleep on. How does that affect you?” “If you don’t like it, don’t look at it. If you think it’s hindering your ascension to godhood, you can always request a room transfer.” Chloe’s face instantly turned a sickly shade of green. “What kind of attitude is that? Do you think having money makes you better than everyone else?” “Let me tell you, our dorm is competing for the ‘Model Room’ award this semester. Your behavior will lower our score and affect everyone’s honor!” She slapped a copy of the grading rubric onto my desk, pointing to a line that read “Frugality and Waste Prevention.” “See this? This is a strict requirement! Because of you, the three of us are going to be dragged down!” Lily and Mia exchanged a glance but didn’t dare to speak. I picked up the rubric and tossed it straight into the trash can. “If you’re sick, go see a doctor. Don’t throw a fit here.” “You!” Chloe was shaking with anger, her finger pointing at me trembling. I put on my headphones, too lazy to deal with her anymore. The world was finally quiet. 2. Over the next few days, Chloe didn’t confront me directly, but the atmosphere in the dorm became incredibly weird. She would constantly gather the other two roommates for “mini-meetings” to discuss how to “build a model dorm,” shooting pointed glances my way every so often. Every morning, she would walk around the dorm with a small notebook, acting like a health inspector. “Lily, your towel isn’t folded perfectly square. Minus one point.” “Mia, there’s a hair on your desk. Minus one point.” Finally, she would stop by my bed, look at my three-thousand-dollar mattress, sigh heavily, and draw a giant ‘X’ in her notebook. “Sigh, one bad apple spoils the whole bunch.” Lily and Mia were driven crazy by her, living in constant fear of losing points, and the way they looked at me started to carry a hint of resentment. I couldn’t be bothered to participate in her childish games. Having no classes on Friday afternoon, I packed my things and went straight home. Sunday evening, I returned to the dorm carrying a bunch of snacks my mom had packed for me. The moment I pushed the door open, I froze. My bed frame… was still there. But my mattress was gone. In its place was a bare, hard wooden board that smelled faintly of mildew. Only Chloe was in the dorm. She was sitting at her desk, leisurely reading a book, a smug smile playing on her lips. Seeing me return, she pushed up her glasses and stood up slowly. “You’re back?” I set the bags in my hands down heavily on the desk, making a loud bang. “Where is my mattress?” Chloe acted as if she didn’t see the fury in my eyes, instead putting on an expression that said “I did this for your own good.” “Oh, you mean that source of extravagance and corruption? I took care of it for you.” She pointed to a woven bag in the corner. “I took the memory foam out. I’ll distribute it to some low-income students in our department later. It’s getting cold, so they can use it as seat cushions. Consider it putting things to good use.” She then pointed to a few burlap sacks on the balcony. “I didn’t waste the springs either. I contacted the art department. They happen to need materials for an installation project, so it’s perfect upcycling.” I was trembling with rage, my nails digging deep into my palms. “Who gave you the right to touch my things?” “Right?” Chloe’s smile grew even wider. “Evelyn, I’m doing this to help you, and to save our dorm’s reputation!” “Don’t worry, I’ve handled everything thoroughly.” She pulled a printed application form from her drawer and waved it in front of me. “I’ve already submitted an application to the Resident Advisor, under the authority of the Student Government and as Room Captain. Given your reckless spending and lack of awareness, I recommended that your scholarship and living expenses be managed by me from now on.” “I’ll create a detailed budget for you to help you develop the good habit of frugality. Once your attitude improves, I’ll give your money back.” She was so immersed in her grand fantasy of being a “student leader ridding the people of evil” that she completely failed to notice my face had turned black with rage. “No need to thank me. It’s what I should do as a student leader.” I looked at her face, twisted with excitement, and laughed out of sheer fury. I pulled out my phone and, right in front of her, clearly dialed 911. “Hello, 911? I want to report a burglary at my university dorm. The stolen property is worth three thousand dollars.” You want to be a leader that badly? I’ll send you straight to the police station to experience what real communal living is like. 3. The moment the call connected, the smug smile on Chloe’s face instantly froze. “What… what are you doing? Are you crazy?!” She lunged at me to grab my phone, but I kicked her away. “Officer, the address is A University, Dorm Building 12, Room 401. Yes, theft, amount is three thousand dollars. The suspect is my roommate, and she’s at the scene.” I calmly stated the address, every word hitting Chloe’s heart like a sledgehammer. She turned pale, her lips trembling, unable to form a complete sentence. “Evelyn! You can’t do this! This is an internal dorm conflict! How could you call the cops!” I hung up the phone and looked at her coldly. “Internal conflict? You broke into my locker, stole my things, and even tried to control my finances, and now you’re telling me it’s an internal conflict?” “I didn’t steal! I was… I was helping you get rid of it!” She was still trying to act tough, but her voice was already laced with tears. Just then, Lily and Mia returned. Seeing the tense atmosphere in the room, they were both startled. “What’s going on?” Chloe saw them as her saviors and grabbed Lily’s arm. “Lily, talk some sense into her! She called the cops! Over a mattress, she actually called the cops to arrest me!” Lily and Mia were shocked, looking at me in disbelief. “Evelyn, you… you really called the cops? Isn’t that taking it too far…” Mia whispered, trying to persuade me. “Chloe was just trying to help the dorm, maybe her methods were… a bit extreme, but don’t sink to her level.” Before I could even open my mouth, Chloe’s tears started falling. She plopped down on the floor and began to wail loudly. “What did I do wrong! I put my heart and soul into the honor of this dorm, into helping my classmates improve, what did I do wrong!” “She’s so rich, what is one mattress to her? But to those low-income students, one seat cushion could keep them warm all winter!” “I turned her trash into treasure. Not only is she ungrateful, but she also called the cops on me! Where is the justice in this world!” She cried so pitifully, making it seem as if she was the one who had suffered a massive injustice. The police arrived quickly, accompanied by the Resident Advisor. The RA, Ms. Davis, was a young teacher who had just graduated a couple of years ago. Seeing the scene upon entering, she was also stunned. “What… what is going on here?” Upon seeing the RA, Chloe cried even harder, scrambling over to hug Ms. Davis’s leg. “Ms. Davis! You have to help me! I was just answering the school’s call to help a student who was falling behind, and she… she actually called the police to arrest me!” The police quickly assessed the situation and turned to me. “Miss, did you make the call?” I nodded, explained exactly what had happened, and pointed to the woven bags in the corner and on the balcony. “That’s my mattress in there.” The police went over to inspect, their expressions turning serious. Chloe continued to sob. “I really didn’t do it on purpose! I just thought she was being too wasteful and wanted to teach her a lesson! We’re all sisters in the same dorm, how can this be considered stealing?” “And… and she’s so rich, she doesn’t even care about this little amount of money! She’s just targeting me! Because I’m a student leader, she hates my guts!” She successfully shifted the topic from theft to class conflict and personal vendetta. 4. Ms. Davis was clearly moved by Chloe’s crying. She frowned at me, her tone carrying a hint of reprimand. “Evelyn, I know you come from a good family, but aren’t you blowing this out of proportion?” “Chloe’s intentions were good. Although her methods were indeed inappropriate, she was doing it for your own good, for the collective honor of our dorm.” “Classmates have little conflicts all the time, how can you just call the police at the drop of a hat? If word gets out, it’ll reflect badly on you, on Chloe, and on our entire department.” I looked at this RA who was trying to smooth things over, letting out a cold laugh in my heart. “Ms. Davis, does ‘having good intentions’ give someone the right to arbitrarily dispose of someone else’s personal property worth three thousand dollars?” “Does ‘having good intentions’ give someone the right to apply for control over my personal finances under the guise of ‘doing it for my own good’?” “If what I lost today wasn’t a mattress, but three thousand dollars in cash, and she also claimed it was to help me be frugal, would that also not be considered stealing?” My series of rhetorical questions made Ms. Davis look a bit embarrassed. She opened her mouth but couldn’t find anything to say. An older police officer cleared his throat and spoke up. “Regardless of the intention, taking and disposing of someone else’s property without permission, and reaching the monetary threshold for filing a case, constitutes theft.” Hearing the word “theft,” Chloe’s crying choked off, and she began to tremble even more violently. “Officer, I… I really know I was wrong! I’ll never do it again!” She turned to me, crawling towards me on her knees. “Evelyn, I’m sorry, I was wrong! Please forgive me this one time! I’ll put the mattress back exactly as it was! Please, drop the charges!” “I can’t have a criminal record, a criminal record will ruin my life! My parents will kill me!” She clung to my calf, snot and tears smearing all over my pants. Ms. Davis also quickly tried to mediate. “Yes, yes, Evelyn, look, Chloe knows she made a mistake. Be the bigger person and forgive her this time.” “We all live in the same dorm, we see each other every day, let’s not make things so tense.” “The school will also give her a severe reprimand to ensure she never does it again.” I looked down at Chloe, who was crying uncontrollably at my feet, then at the conflicted RA and the expressionless police officers. I knew perfectly well that even if she were taken away today, she would at most be detained for a few days and made to pay compensation. But for someone like her, that punishment was far from enough. What I wanted was to completely destroy her reputation, to turn everything she was so proud of into dust. I took a deep breath and slowly spoke. “Fine, I can choose not to press charges.” Chloe and Ms. Davis both breathed a sigh of relief. “But,” I pivoted sharply, “she must reimburse me for the mattress, three thousand dollars, not a penny less.” All the blood instantly drained from Chloe’s face. “Three… three thousand?” “What, is that too much?” I raised an eyebrow. “I still have the receipt, do you want to see it?” Chloe collapsed completely onto the floor. For someone who constantly labeled herself as a low-income student, three thousand dollars was an astronomical figure. Finally, with the police mediating, Chloe wrote an IOU for three thousand dollars, promising to pay it off within a month. In front of everyone, I stated that I accepted the mediation and would not pursue criminal charges against her. The police packed up and left, and Ms. Davis dragged the devastated Chloe to her office for a “talk.” Only Lily, Mia, and I were left in the dorm. They looked at me with complex expressions. “Evelyn, are you… really just going to let it go?” I smiled but didn’t say anything. Let it go, yeah right… The day after things settled down, the university forum exploded. A post titled “Exposing the Extravagant, Police-Calling Rich Bitch” was pushed to the top trending spot. 5. The poster was anonymous, but between the lines, every detail pointed to me. In the post, I was portrayed as an arrogant, condescending, evil rich girl who used her family’s dirty money to casually bully ordinary students. Chloe, on the other hand, became a tragic hero—upright, kind, brave enough to fight against “evil forces,” only to face suppression and revenge. “On the first day of school, she slapped us all in the face with a three-thousand-dollar mattress. The RA kindly advised her to keep a low profile, and she clapped back.” “The Room Captain, who is also a very upright member of the Student Government’s Disciplinary Committee, couldn’t stand her extravagant lifestyle and offered some well-meaning advice, only to have a finger pointed in her face while being cursed out.” “Later, for the honor of our whole dorm, the Captain came up with a way to ‘deal’ with that mattress, intending to teach her a lesson, and she turned around and called the cops!” “The police actually came! Guys! Over a mattress! She wanted to send her own roommate to prison!” “In the end, the Captain was forced to write an IOU for three thousand dollars. Do you know what three thousand dollars means to a low-income student? That could be her living expenses for years!” The post was highly emotive and inflammatory. A massive thread quickly built up underneath it. “WTF! This rich kid is too arrogant! Since when did A University become a place for these people to show off their wealth?” “Feel sorry for the Captain. Honest people are always the ones persecuted.” “A three-thousand-dollar mattress? Poverty limits my imagination. The straw mat I sleep on wasn’t even twenty bucks.” “Doxx her! Someone like this doesn’t deserve to be at A University! Get out!” Soon, my name, major, class, and even my dorm room number were dug up and publicly posted in the comments. Chloe played this hand beautifully. She painted herself as the victim, nailed me to the pillar of shame, and conveniently fanned everyone’s anti-rich sentiments. Lily and Mia clutched their phones, looking at me nervously. “Evelyn, what… what do we do now?” What could I do? I looked at the vile insults in the post, watched Chloe using alt accounts in the comments to steer the narrative, and just felt nauseous. She really thought she could do whatever she wanted hiding behind a screen and an anonymous handle. She was too naive. I didn’t reply to the post, nor did I confront her. I just quietly screenshotted everything, including the comments that personally attacked me and leaked my personal information. Then, I called my dad. “Dad, find me the best cybersecurity team, and get me in touch with the A University Board of Trustees.” Chloe, don’t you love playing public opinion warfare? I’ll play with you. I just don’t know if your amateur skills are enough to keep up.

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