Category: English

When my boyfriend’s “Golden Boy” returned, I, his mere stand-in, faced immediate unemployment. They decided to crash my world to show off: “Baby, I’m here to take you home~” Ethan’s face darkened instantly: “This isn’t a place for you.” His friends started jeering: “Your little canary isn’t very obedient, is he? Provoking the real deal right to his face.” Amidst the mocking laughter, the Golden Boy sitting in the deepest part of the booth suddenly stood up, walked over, pulled me into his arms, and spat pure venom: “Overconfident much?” “His ‘baby’ is right here. Who the hell are you replying to?” 1. Once I realized I was just a stand-in, I immediately adjusted my attitude. Whatever the Golden Boy did, I did too. Oliver bought a new car? I bought one too! Oliver bought a new watch? I bought one too! Oliver ordered male escorts? I ordered them too! …Wait a minute, those handsome guys in the booth over there are Oliver’s friends. No wonder. I waved my hand expressionlessly, telling the row of male escorts in front of me to get lost. They were all so ugly; if I ate a single grape from the fruit platter they offered, I’d have to call the cops. Looking at the elegant and aristocratic man not far away, I chugged my drink while my mental defenses crumbled. Waaaaah— He’s taller than me, richer than me, and more handsome than me. No wonder he’s the Golden Boy. I can’t compete. I really can’t compete. Clutching my bottle, I stood up, my eyes blurry from the alcohol. Huh? Where did Oliver go? Why can’t I see him? I stumbled around trying to find him. Just as I turned a corner, a strong force suddenly yanked me, and I was pinned against the wall with my arms behind my back. Oliver looked down, a playful smirk on his lips: “You’ve been following me for a while now. Got a crush on me?” So close. His semi-long hair brushed against my face, carrying a clean, cool scent. Staring blankly at his meticulously sculpted face, I muttered instinctively: “You’re so beautiful…” A low, pleased chuckle escaped Oliver’s throat. “Sweet talker.” Without warning, he gripped my chin and kissed me. The music outside was deafening, the lights psychedelic. My brain felt deprived of oxygen. Wasn’t I learning from the Golden Boy? What is the Golden Boy doing right now? Oh. The Golden Boy is sleeping with me. So, I struggled and flipped us over so I was on top. I wanted to sleep with him too. Oliver paused for a second, then smoothly wrapped his arms around my waist to help me balance. He buried his face in my neck, took a deep breath, and chuckled hoarsely: “Baby, you’re really good at this.” 2. I woke up in a hotel room the next day. I was completely disoriented. Wait—Ethan is my boyfriend, and Oliver is Ethan’s Golden Boy. How did I end up rolling in the sheets with my rival?! What kind of mess is this!! And why is this beautiful, stunning man the top?! I quietly grabbed my clothes from the floor, trying to sneak away on trembling legs, but I was snatched back into his arms. Oliver leaned lazily against the headboard, looking thoroughly satisfied. He rubbed my waist gently: “Morning, boyfriend.” What boyfriend? How did I suddenly become his boyfriend?! My waist went weak, and my bravado vanished: “Wh-what boyfriend…” Seeing my eyelashes fluttering wildly and my stuttering, Oliver narrowed his eyes and pinched my cheek in dissatisfaction: “What? You took my first time, and now you want to dine and dash?” “Who was it that praised my looks last night, hugging me and kissing me non-stop?” “Who was it that didn’t care if I was going too fast or too slow, and got mad and left marks all over me?” “And who was it that said they were almost done but then wanted more? Insisted on being on top, got tired after a few thrusts, and started whining and scratching me?” He casually pulled open his bathrobe to show off the scratch marks. Yep, from his collarbone to his chest, it looked alarming. It looked like a wild night. I was so mortified I wanted to die. I reached out to cover his mouth: “But I have a boyfriend…” Oliver suddenly leaned in, trapping me in his arms. His eyes turned dangerous, and his tone was filled with disbelief. “Are you saying,” he enunciated each word, “that I am the side piece?” “You made me the side piece?” “A guy like me—6’6″, eight-pack abs, Ivy League grad, net worth in the hundreds of millions, highly service-oriented—with specs like these, you make me the side piece?” He pinched my chin, a competitive fire burning in his eyes: “Come on, tell me. What kind of angelic being is this ‘main guy’ of yours?” 3. I was almost scared out of my wits by Oliver’s “side piece” comment. Golden Boy, you are so out of character! Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Ollie? Are you awake? I brought you dim sum from The Imperial, your favorite from before—” It was a deliberately gentle voice, tinged with cautious eagerness to please. —It was actually Ethan! Ollie. Ollie. So, every time he got drunk and called out passionately for “Ollie,” it was never me. I mean, I already knew, but hearing Ethan gently calling out for someone else still made my heart ache. What “aloof boyfriend”? He wasn’t naturally cold and distant. It’s just that his gentleness was never meant for me. My blood ran cold, and a wave of panic washed over me, like I had been caught cheating. I scrambled frantically to roll out of bed. Oliver, however, pushed me firmly back under the covers, gave me a reassuring kiss, and mouthed silently: “Don’t panic.” The knocking outside grew more urgent. “Ollie? Are you in there? Ollie?” Oliver casually pulled his bathrobe tighter, carrying the ambiguous marks I had left on him, and leisurely went to answer the door. He opened it just a crack, leaned against the frame, and spoke with the languidness of someone just waking up, heavily laced with undisguised displeasure: “Ethan, which hotel I stay in is my private business. Showing up like this shows a real lack of boundaries.” “Boundaries?” Ethan sounded like he’d heard a joke, his voice rising a few octaves. “We’ve known each other for over a decade. Since when did we care about boundaries?” “You finally came back, I just missed you so much!” He sounded so self-righteous. I remembered once accidentally opening his phone’s photo album and being coldly scolded for half an hour. He had warned me, “People need boundaries.” Damn it, such blatant double standards. While they were talking, the door opened a bit wider, and Ethan’s expression instantly froze. His gaze was nailed to the exposed V of Oliver’s bathrobe. Ethan’s face went from eager to please, to shock, to an ugly, disbelieving shade of pale. He could vaguely see the blanket bunched up into a small mound. There was definitely someone in there! His throat tightened, and his voice trembled: “Ollie, you… on your body… who exactly is in your room?!” Ethan tried to push his way in to get a better look. But Oliver blocked him firmly. Instead of panicking, Oliver glanced back at the trembling lump under the covers. When he looked back at Ethan, a boastful smirk played on his lips, his tone airy: “Oh, him?” “My future partner.” “Tsk, he’s feisty. Scratches hard.” To add insult to injury, Oliver took the bag from Ethan’s hand. “Perfect timing, my baby is hungry. Thanks for the breakfast.” The door slammed shut with a loud bang, and the world finally fell into a dead silence. The breathing under the covers finally resumed its shaky rhythm. 4. Oliver unpacked the breakfast, picked up a shrimp dumpling with chopsticks, and held it to my mouth: “Try it. The shrimp dumplings from The Imperial really are quite good.” I opened my mouth mechanically and chewed. This was the first time I had ever eaten breakfast delivered by my boyfriend, and it was in this bizarre manner. I really had to thank my rival for this. My heart felt like it had been soaking in lemon water—sour and astringent, almost bursting out of my chest. … “Full?” “Mhm.” Oliver stood to the side with his arms crossed, sharply observing my state: “Why are you so scared?” “Are you afraid of him?” “I am not,” I mumbled, burying my face in my knees. Afraid of him? Maybe just a little bit. Mostly, it was just chilling disappointment. But for a split second earlier, I actually wanted Oliver to let him in. A twisted sense of satisfaction flared up inside me. The unattainable flower you secretly loved for over a decade? I picked it. Ethan, you must be dying of jealousy, right? “If you’re not, then why do you look like a bullied little wife?” Oliver pinched my chin, forcing me to look up. He examined me from left to right, suddenly realizing something. “I’ve seen you before.” “At State U’s graduation ceremony… State U… You know Ethan?” Oliver’s mind worked fast, and his eyes suddenly grew sharp: “No wonder you were following me.” “…I heard Ethan found a stand-in for me. Looks like it’s true?” My eyes dimmed: “So you all knew… I’m just a pathetic stand-in.” “I know Ethan was planning to break up with me.” My voice was a bit dry: “At first, I wanted to see the gap between you and me…” “But after seeing you, I felt Ethan was aiming too high.” “I… if I learn to be a bit more like you, maybe Ethan won’t want to break up.” “After all, we’ve been together for four years. It’s still a bit sad…” “You actually want to win him back?!” Oliver exploded like a lit firecracker: “Is this it?! This is your ‘main guy’?! Well, color me shocked!” “Is a cheap bastard who looks for stand-ins worth saving?” He laughed out of pure anger and pinned me to the mattress. A warm hand gently covered my lower abdomen, his voice dangerously husky: “Is he better than me?” “…What?” “Has he ever gotten this deep inside you?” His palm pressed down slightly, an undeniable assertion of dominance. My cheeks burned instantly, my toes curling in shame: “I… I don’t know.” Then, giving up on any pretense, I added: “He’s still saving his virginity for you.” The air instantly froze. Oliver’s expression looked like he had swallowed a fly. He squeezed two words through his teeth: “Disgusting.” As coincidence would have it, my phone rang abruptly. The name flashing on the screen was exactly Ethan’s. I instinctively went to hang up, but Oliver beat me to it and answered the call. “Leo, where are you? Come out and meet me.” On the other end of the line, Ethan’s voice carried unconcealed annoyance. I opened my mouth, but couldn’t make a sound. Because Oliver leaned down at that exact moment and bit my earlobe almost vengefully, his hot breath pouring into my ear: “Baby.” “Ravish me.” “And then, go get your revenge.” 5. On the other end of the phone, Ethan’s voice was clearly displeased, “Leo, is someone with you?” I bit my lower lip hard, not daring to make a sound. Oliver’s fingertips, as if carrying an electric current, slowly traced circles on my waist. He smiled silently, like a seductive male fox spirit, gently grinding his lips against mine. “Speak,” Ethan’s tone had already taken on his usual commanding edge. “I’m in a very bad mood right now. Don’t make me repeat myself.” I spoke almost in a whisper: “I’m… busy.” “Busy with what?” Ethan sneered, “Busy figuring out how to be a better stand-in?” I jolted, “You…” “You bought so many things that are exactly the same as Ollie’s recently. I’m not blind.” His voice carried undisguised mockery. “Since you already know, I’ll just lay it all out.” “You are nothing compared to Ollie. The only reason you had the luck to be with me for a few years is because your eyes look a bit like his.” “But your clumsy imitations only make people think—” “You’re a cheap knockoff.” “Leo, consider this a warning. I’m going to officially start pursuing Ollie soon. You’d better know your place.” “Don’t go embarrassing yourself in front of Ollie using my boyfriend’s name, to avoid causing Ollie any unnecessary misunderstandings about me.” “Watch yourself.” Ethan hung up the phone decisively. The dial tone echoed in my ear. I stood frozen, feeling the awkwardness and helplessness of being stripped bare in front of Oliver. “A cheap knockoff?” Oliver tossed the phone aside, his disdainful voice ringing in my ear. He cupped my cheeks and looked at me, “Listen, all beautiful people look somewhat alike.” “Only an ugly person like him would like such bizarre imitations.” A spot in my heart suddenly softened, and that tiny bit of sadness evaporated. I could even joke back at him: “Oh, so because you look like me, you don’t need to feel inferior.” Oliver reached out and wiped away the tears that had unknowingly slipped down my face. His movements were gentle, but his tone was resolute: “Leo.” “You are exceptional. You shouldn’t waste tears on a guy like that.” I blinked. “If you still have time to be sad over those words, it means I haven’t done enough. It means you still have the energy to think about someone else…” I couldn’t help but block his rambling mouth. … I don’t know how we ended up in front of the mirror. I turned my head away in shame. Oliver’s strong arm tightly gripped my waist, his other hand pinched my chin, forcing me to look up. “Look closely.” “Who is holding you right now.” “And who is the one hiding behind a phone call, slandering you.” I was forced to look up, physiological tears streaming down my face. Oliver bit my earlobe, his breathing erratic, but his tone softened. “Baby, from now on, tears should only fall in situations like this…” “Whose baby looks this pretty when they cry?” “Some people just have no taste. You’re much prettier than I am.” Oliver kissed the side of my neck continuously, as if mesmerized, yet he wanted to pin me firmly in place. “Leo, look at yourself now.” “Tell me, the pathetic little thing in the mirror, and the little brat who dared to order a whole row of male escorts at the bar yesterday, which one is the real you?” I stared blankly at the flushed person in the mirror. “I… I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” His tone carried a hint of punishment. With every question, the arm around my waist tightened a bit more. “Then I’ll help you figure it out.” “Baby, forget Ethan. Forget me.” “Do you prefer being a passenger or driving?” I trembled, trying to get my brain working, my fingernails digging into his arm. My voice was broken. “I don’t like… driving…” “Do you prefer digital watches or mechanical watches?” “Mechanical…” “Do you like quiet or noise?” “Qui…et… slow down…” “Good boy.” He gave me a rewarding kiss, landing softly between my brows. “Never lose yourself.” “The way to get back at him is to become an even better version of yourself than before.” Oliver took my hand and placed it on his cheek, letting me feel the most genuine heat radiating from his skin. “You can treat me as your trophy…” “Baby, tell me, sleeping with the Golden Boy Ethan has secretly loved for years.” “Does it feel good?” My cheeks burned. Thinking about how furious Ethan’s face might be, I felt a mix of shame and exhilaration, and instinctively nodded. “Louder.” “…It feels good.” “Excellent,” Oliver smirked in satisfaction, pulling me even closer, kissing away the tears at the corners of my eyes. “Remember this feeling.” “You didn’t imitate this. You won this.” “Leo, he doesn’t want you, that’s his loss. He doesn’t get to define your worth.” “And I chose you…” He paused, burying his face deep into my neck, “Simply because I have great taste.” “I found this unique, precious treasure.” … 6. Damn, I think I’m tangled up with a male fox spirit. Since that day, Oliver stopped going home, stopped hanging out with his friends, abandoned his parents… He shamelessly camped out at my house, demanding a title. “Hmph, if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, Muhammad will go to the mountain. You won’t move in with me, so I can only come crash with you.” Oliver placed his electric toothbrush next to mine, looked at it closely, and nodded in satisfaction. I leaned against the doorframe, looking up at him, unable to resist saying: “You were the one who told me, don’t let men get what they want too easily, and especially don’t let them push their luck.” Oliver paused, feeling like he had just shot himself in the foot. After a moment of frustration, he turned to face my serious gaze, putting on an expression like he was overwhelmed by my cuteness, even speaking with the proud tone of a doting father: “You’re right.” “When dating, you should be a bit more assertive and take the initiative.” In the end, he couldn’t resist giving me a kiss. “I’ll keep pursuing you until you’re satisfied.” I mumbled, “But you’re already pushing your luck way too much.” I pushed his face away. “Mr. Suitor, please mind your behavior.” As soon as the words left my mouth, this guy planted a loud “mwah” on my cheek with lightning speed. “If you won’t give me a title, at least give me some perks.” I just watched him smugly organize his little suitcase. “How strange, you only brought this little stuff?” Oliver said self-righteously: “I was afraid bringing too much at once would make my intentions too obvious.” “I need to take it slow.” Me: … Are your intentions not obvious right now? You’re practically forcing my hand. Oliver was an interesting guy. The first time we interacted was at the hotel, and it was like lightning striking the ground. We did everything we should have, shouldn’t have, and tried all the tricks. Now he wants to start acting like we’re in a pure, innocent romance. Isn’t that backward? But I found that I didn’t dislike this feeling. Oliver often acted unreliable and goofy on the surface, but as long as he was there, the little bit of gloom in my heart caused by Ethan would slowly dissipate. Oliver forcefully barged into my world, yet quietly and gradually permeated every corner of my life. Watching him hang his silk pajamas in my closet. My heart felt like it was soaking in warm water, soft and tender. So I suppressed my smile and deliberately kept a straight face: “We’ll see how you perform.” “Okay!” His eyes suddenly lit up. The fox turned into a puppy. But the next second, Oliver deliberately rummaged through his suitcase, putting on a troubled expression, looking at me with puppy dog eyes, “But baby…” “I forgot to bring underwear.” “Can you… come buy some with me?” Me again: … Heh. Your true colors are finally showing. You cunning male fox spirit, you couldn’t hide your tail after all! 7. In the end, I was half-coaxed, half-carried by Oliver to the mall. He was as excited as a mouse in a rice bin, holding up one black and one white pair of underwear, asking me: “Baby, how are these two?” I tugged on his sleeve, telling him to keep his voice down: “Is your face made of titanium? The sales ladies are laughing at you.” Oliver raised an eyebrow: “So what? We’re being open and honest.” “Only people like Ethan who buy size S need to sneak around afraid of being laughed at.” Why do you still have to throw shade at a time like this?! I facepalmed helplessly: “You’ve seen Ethan’s?” Oliver snorted, “Saw it in the bathroom back in college…” “Stop, stop, stop!” Blushing furiously, I rushed to cover Oliver’s mouth, pointing randomly, “Just this one, buy it and let’s go home.” Oliver looked in the direction I pointed, the lightbulbs in his eyes clicking on: “Baby, you’re so spicy. I didn’t know you liked this kind.” I finally saw clearly how special the style I had randomly pointed at was. My eyes widened slowly: “No, I…” Oliver gave me an “I understand” look, “Bowknot style, ready to eat… I’m looking forward to it.” Great, now I can’t explain myself. Oliver didn’t make me choose; he excitedly grabbed all the styles we looked at and went to pay. Just stepping out of the underwear store, Oliver pulled me into another store. “Since we’re here, let’s buy some matching outfits.” …So this was his real goal. On one hand, pretending to be generous and saying he wasn’t in a hurry for a title, while on the other, secretly plotting all these little schemes. When I was imitating Oliver before, I figured out his preferences. He usually likes low-key styles that emphasize cut and fabric. I pointed to a cashmere overcoat, imagining how he would look in it—definitely very classy. “Pick what you like,” Oliver insisted. What I like? My gaze unconsciously drifted to another wall, where several well-designed bomber jackets were hanging. I whispered, “I like this one.” Oliver nodded in agreement: “Very cool.” Without hesitation, he picked up two and paid quickly, “We’ll take these.” “You didn’t even try them on…” I was just about to complain when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone I absolutely did not want to see— Ethan! He was just coming off the mall escalator, walking in our direction! “Let’s go, let’s go!” I quickly ducked my head, grabbed Oliver’s arm, and tried to pull him away. Seeing this, Oliver didn’t move; instead, he let out a low chuckle. Under my terrified gaze, he suddenly bent down and effortlessly scooped me up into a bridal carry. He smoothly threw the newly purchased jacket over my head, blocking my vision. My world went dark. I froze in his arms, not daring to move an inch. “Don’t be afraid.” He comforted me softly. I had fantasized countless times in my head that if I ever saw Ethan again, I would definitely show him that he shouldn’t underestimate me. But the reality was, my mind went completely blank! Too disappointing. I silently despised myself internally. Through the coat, Ethan’s voice grew closer: “Ollie! The sales rep at Brand X said you were here, so I rushed right over! Where have you been these past few days?” I muttered softly: “Blacklisting Brand X…” Oliver chuckled softly at me, not looking Ethan in the eye. “Shopping with my boyfriend. He got tired.” Ethan’s smile froze, his attention finally landing on me. “Ollie, he is…” “Ollie, stop joking around,” Ethan’s voice deepened. “I asked the friends you went to the bar with that day. You didn’t have a boyfriend then at all.” Ethan narrowed his eyes: “But this build looks a bit familiar…” I nervously gripped the hem of Oliver’s shirt. …Am I going to be discovered? “It’s the guy from the hotel, isn’t it!” Ethan looked at Oliver with sudden realization: “This guy is just a cheap male escort, isn’t he? It’s only been a few days, and he’s already clinging to you to buy him things at the mall?” As soon as he finished speaking, I felt the air pressure around us drop. “Ethan,” Oliver’s voice was calm but laced with coldness. “Are you investigating me? And insulting my boyfriend?” Ethan was still talking to himself: “Ollie, I don’t mind. You’re definitely just playing around… I just wanted to say, this weekend a few of us organized a welcome home party for you, to officially welcome you back. You have to come.” He even turned and glared viciously through the coat at me: “Don’t make me find out which club you work at!” Oliver had no intention of arguing further. He held me securely and turned to leave. “I’ll go to the welcome party, but right now I need to take my baby home.” Due to the momentum of Oliver turning, I “accidentally” kicked my leg up, coincidentally leaving a shoe print on Ethan’s coat. Ethan’s eyes widened. He looked at the dusty mark and kept pestering: “Ollie! People from places like that don’t deserve you!” 8. We didn’t stop until we reached the emergency stairwell. I threw off the coat, furious, and threw a flurry of weak punches against his chest: “Ahhhhh! That was so annoying! It was too sudden! I didn’t perform well!” “I just didn’t have my lines ready!” “I wasn’t afraid of that guy Ethan!” “I should have looked at him aloof and cold, and then said faintly, ‘Mr. Ethan, long time no see.’” Oliver leaned against the wall, smiling at me with an encouraging look: “It’s not too late to think of something now.” “This weekend, want to go crash the party?” My eyes lit up, but then I hesitated: “Can… can I?” I pointed at myself uncertainly. “Sigh.” Oliver sighed exaggeratedly, intentionally lowering his eyelashes in mock sadness: “It’s really annoying being pestered by a clingy leech like him.” “If only my boyfriend could declare his territory and make him give up completely…” “I’ll go!! We’re crashing Ethan’s party!” I was instantly pumped up again! Full of fighting spirit! I was going to make a grand entrance! Like a fabulous makeover! I am the returning king! On the way back, I excitedly started planning: “I’m going to wear the coolest outfit and be the best-looking guy there!” “And I’m going to call you ‘baby’ in front of everyone!” Oliver held my hand, his beautiful eyes full of seriousness: “Yeah, and let him know that he didn’t just lose his so-called ‘Golden Boy’.” “The most important thing is you, the one he once had but didn’t know how to cherish.” 9. The day of the welcome party. My phone kept pinging with messages from Oliver. “Ahhhhh, it’s so boring, baby.” “Everyone keeps looking at me and Ethan with these ambiguous looks.” “I think I know what Ethan’s planning to do next.” “It’s torture!! Crying face.jpg” “Baby, are you ready? Can you come get me now?” I stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusted my hair, and replied, “Don’t rush.” Oliver: “Oh.” “Pitiful fingers.jpg” In the banquet hall, Oliver sat expressionless, holding his phone, exuding an aura of “do not approach.” “Ollie, why are you always on your phone? You’re the guest of honor today.” Several people exchanged glances for a while, and finally, one unlucky guy was pushed forward: “Oliver, Ethan seems to have something to say to you.” Oliver didn’t even bother lifting an eyelid, his voice cold, “What is it?” A flash of awkwardness crossed his friend’s face. He subconsciously glanced at Ethan, who was holding a wine glass trying to look deep, let out two dry laughs, and attempted to ease the tension: “Nothing… just thinking you’ve changed a lot since you got back. This fashion style is also… pretty cool.” Only then did Oliver deign to look up. He adjusted his collar and spoke nonchalantly: “Oh, this.” “My boyfriend picked it out.” “He has great taste. He said I look ten times more handsome in this than in those stuffy, old-fashioned tailored suits.” “Boy… boyfriend?” The friends all swiveled their heads to look at Ethan, the atmosphere instantly freezing. “Ethan… did you know?” Ethan’s composed facade stiffened. He gritted his teeth, trying hard to maintain his composure. “Ollie, we’ve known each other for over a decade. You know that deep down, for all these years, I’ve always—” “Stop, stop, stop!” Oliver looked like his ears were being soiled. “Know what?” “That you’ve been shamelessly pestering me all these years?” “Have I ever willingly hung out with you?” “Our interactions were strictly limited to unavoidable family obligations.” “You decided to pull this stunt knowing full well I have a boyfriend.” “What’s the meaning of this? Are you trying to interfere in someone else’s relationship? Or are you trying to be the other man?” “I hate homewreckers the most.” Ethan’s face changed colors, but he couldn’t lash out in front of his Golden Boy: “Ollie, our families are of equal standing, and we understand each other. I’m the only one who can love you and protect you.” “Don’t get tricked by some random nobody.” “Heh, you understand me?” Oliver’s attack power remained undiminished as he calmly dropped a bombshell, “Let me tell you a little fun fact.” “I’m a top.” “Someone like you, I wouldn’t want even if you offered yourself on a silver platter.”

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I’m Over Us, Babe. Liam’s broad chest pressed against my back as he held me. My body stiffened for a few seconds. “Let’s break up, Chloe.” I couldn’t quite believe it, turning my head to look at him. “Right now?” Liam let go of me, lying flat on the large bed, raising his sharp, striking eyebrows. “Just leave tomorrow. I don’t have time to drop you off right now.” “Okay. Let’s just sleep for now.” In the dark, Liam’s breathing grew steady beside me. I let out a breath of relief, feeling instantly lighter. This unrealistic relationship was finally over. 1 Morning was almost here. I shifted a little and was pulled right back into that hot embrace, a large hand resting on my waist. “What are your plans now?” I rubbed my forehead. “I’ll figure it out when I get home…” … When I left, half of Liam’s face was still buried in the snow-white pillow. “You guys really broke up?” My best friend, Sarah, rushed over to my place, her face full of disbelief. She pulled out her phone, and I knew exactly what she was about to do. I grabbed her hand before she could call Liam to interrogate him. Besides being my best friend, Sarah was also Liam’s cousin. “It’s over for real. Absolutely certain. You don’t need to double-check.” Sarah frowned. “Who initiated it? It must have been you. You think he’s too young for you, too immature? Come on, he’s running a massive company now, he’s not immature at all…” I shrugged, feeling totally relaxed. “Wrong. He brought it up. Didn’t see that coming, did you?” Sarah looked stunned, clearly refusing to buy it. “What? How could he possibly be the one to break it off?” “Why is that so impossible? You know how it is. In relationships, men and women are rarely on the same wavelength. Women tend to fall deeper as time goes on, but men get bored. Once the honeymoon phase fades, they lose interest.” “…” Sarah was completely bewildered. “How are you so okay with this?” “Because deep down, I always knew we wouldn’t work out. First, my family background is decent, but his is just on another level of wealthy. Second, a three-year age gap is real. I’ve never fully adjusted to the dynamic. To be honest, if he hadn’t said it, I probably would have.” Sarah twitched as if she’d been electrocuted. “Right, I forgot. Your brain is aggressively rational. I was worrying for nothing.” “Still, you’re my best friend. That little punk Liam… if he dares to dump you, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.” Sarah immediately dialed his number. “What’s up?” a deep voice answered on the other end. I grabbed a banana nearby, peeled it, and took a bite. “You know exactly why I’m calling. Why did you break up with Chloe?” “She told you?” “Don’t change the subject. What’s the reason?” “I’m heading into a meeting. We’ll talk later.” He had already hung up. “That little jerk. He hung up on me…” I got up and went to the bathroom to find some numbing spray. I had accidentally bitten my tongue. The fact that Liam was even more unfazed than I was… that was something I truly hadn’t expected. 2 I met Liam the summer of my junior year in college when I took a job as a private tutor. He was a rich kid living in a massive estate with its own helipad. He was incredibly rebellious. Before I even showed up for the interview, he had already chased away three other tutors. On my first day, I arrived at nine. By noon, he was still asleep in his massive bed. The butler handed me a phone, signaling me to take the call. “You’re the tutor for today?” His voice was thick with sleep. “Are you awake?” I took a deep breath. “Have the butler bring you in.” It was a total command. The butler led me to the door. “Miss Adams, this is the young master’s room.” I knocked twice. No response. I pushed the door open slightly, took one look inside, and immediately tried to back out, but a strong force yanked me in. “You’ve already seen everything. What are you hiding from, Teach?” He was shirtless, pinning my hand against the wall. Even though he was still in high school, he was already a full head taller than me. “I’ll wait for you outside.” I steadied my breathing, putting on my ‘older and wiser’ persona, shoved him away, and backed out of the room. Behind me, I could hear his light, mocking laughter. I clenched my fists. Brat. I’ll put up with it for the paycheck. 3 In the study, during the half-hour trial lesson, he was totally distracted, looking down at his phone playing games the entire time. I figured I was done for. “Miss Adams, how did it go?” “I think you’d better find someone else…” I was holding back a lot of frustration. “She’s the one. Be here tomorrow for the lesson.” I didn’t even notice when he had walked out of the study, but he was already lazily heading upstairs. “…” “Wonderful! Miss Adams, please arrive on time tomorrow.” “…Right. Okay.” At first, I thought I had some kind of special charm that made him choose me. I worked incredibly hard every day prepping his materials. Turns out, I was overthinking it. A month went by, and he hadn’t paid attention for a single day. I couldn’t take it anymore and slammed his textbook shut. “If you’re not interested in what I’m teaching, why are you making me stay?” He ignored me and kept mashing buttons on his game. The money was good, but taking it felt like a scam. Every time his mom asked me if he was improving, I couldn’t even look her in the eye. I packed up my things, ready to quit on the spot. As I was about to leave, a long leg stretched out and blocked my path. “You mad?” I turned my head. He finally put his phone down and looked up at me seriously. I glanced at the table; his phone screen was still flashing. “Wouldn’t dare. Keep playing. I won’t be coming back.” He didn’t move his leg. He just stared at me stubbornly. I froze for a second. “Liam, Miss Adams, I brought some fruit for you two.” Mrs. Vance knocked and walked in, freezing when she saw our standoff. “What’s going on here?” I was determined to leave. “Mrs. Vance, I’m sorry…” “Add fifty bucks an hour to her pay. My midterms went up.” Me: “…” I looked at him in total disbelief. Going from a 10% to a 12% is considered an improvement? I really had to thank him for just copying down the introduction to his English Literature essay. “Really?!” Mrs. Vance’s eyes went wide with joy. “Yeah.” “Okay! Consider it done. We’ll start the new rate from this lesson on.” I was too embarrassed to bring up quitting after that, so I bit the bullet and stayed. 4 Later, I spent so much time trying to figure out why he ever got interested in me. Was it during the basketball game, when I was cheering for a guy in my major, and he glared at me before showing off on the court to prove himself? Was it because I tutored him for a month, felt guilty taking the money when he didn’t listen, and finally slammed the book shut to quit? Or was it just that we were stuck in a study together during his peak teenage hormone years, and opposites attracted? … One day, Sarah and I were getting afternoon coffee. She suddenly tapped my shoulder and pointed across the room. “Wow. He doesn’t show up often, but when he does, he takes up all the air in the room. That little wolf pup has been staring at your back for a while now.” I turned around. Over by the window, Liam and a few of his basketball buddies were drinking iced sodas. Sarah was the one who had gotten me this tutoring gig in the first place. I turned back, calmly wiping the condensation off my glass. “You’re his cousin. Don’t make weird jokes.” In reality, I didn’t want to admit that toward the end of the tutoring sessions, the kid had actually started behaving. I sensed things were getting weird, so I promptly ended the tutoring arrangement. “The way he looks at you isn’t normal. That boy has got it bad.” … I was packing up my things to leave. But I was a step too late. Liam walked over. He was ridiculously tall and incredibly handsome. Just him moving across the room drew a lot of eyes to our table. Sarah rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, so you do remember your cousin. Nice of you to come say hi.” He sat down on Sarah’s side of the booth, stretching his long legs out. I don’t know if it was intentional, but the tip of his shoe brushed against mine. A shiver ran through my entire body. I avoided his deep, dark eyes. I was speechless. How did a high school kid have this kind of intimidating aura? “Are you free next Tuesday?” Sarah looked like she was watching a movie unfold. “Asking me? Or asking your beloved tutor?” “It’s my birthday next week. I booked a table at that exclusive rooftop place downtown. Both of you come.” I politely declined first, looking at Sarah. “You go ahead. I have an evening seminar that night.” He played with the iced Coke in his hand, looking up through his messy bangs with dark, brooding eyes. “Is that so?” I looked at Sarah for help, terrified she was going to stir the pot. Sarah looked disappointed. “Aw, man. I guess I’ll have to go alone. Tell you what, I’ll bring your present from Miss Adams with me.” Liam stood up to head back to his table, leaving one sentence behind before he walked away: “If you’re not feeling well, don’t drink iced coffee.” I was stunned. I was drinking an iced Americano, and my period had just ended. Sarah took a massive gulp of her hot latte and declared, “It’s over. It’s totally over. My bratty little cousin is going to turn into your fiercely loyal guard dog.” … On the night of his birthday, I got a text from him. “Why no present?” It was sent at 2:00 AM. Right before sunrise, I texted him back. “Study hard. Wishing you success.” And then I blocked him. Half a month later, I went to another city for my college internship. Later, I heard from Sarah that Liam had gone to study abroad. And after that, Sarah got busy with her own love life and career, and we never brought him up again. 5 Until five years later, when my office lobby was buzzing. A coworker ran up to me excitedly. “Chloe, there’s an incredibly hot guy looking for you at the front door. Get out there!” I walked out and froze. The stunning young man in a tailored suit standing in the sunset was now a high-powered business elite who looked like he could conquer the world. Under the shocked gazes of my coworkers, he walked right up to me. “Long time no see.” My normally quiet heart gave a rare, violent flutter. Steak, red wine, a huge bed. Half lucid, half lost in a haze, I let myself go completely. Everything was perfectly in sync, and he was flawlessly gentle. It was hard to imagine that the cold, unsmiling boss at the office was this hungry at home. Before Liam brought up the breakup, I hadn’t seen a single warning sign. But when it happened so suddenly, aside from a tiny bit of discomfort, I accepted it calmly. 6 “A blind date?!” Sarah shrieked through the phone. I looked down at the profile of the high-quality bachelor in my hand. “Yeah. Don’t act so shocked. I’m twenty-eight. While I’ve still got an edge, finding a great guy to settle down with isn’t a crazy idea.” Truthfully, I was going on this date because my mom was pressuring me endlessly. Since I couldn’t stay single forever, I might as well find someone decent and tie the knot early. “Fine, that makes sense. I support you! We’re gonna find someone way better and make the guy who didn’t appreciate you regret it.” Sarah was still hung up on the fact that Liam was the one who dumped me. It really bothered her. “Alright, hanging up now. I’m heading out.” “Text me the address. Once I’m done with work, I’ll swing by and help you evaluate him.” 7 The guy my mom handpicked for me was, as expected, a catch. Not only was he incredibly handsome, but he was also a gentleman and quite funny. Just as we were hitting it off, I don’t know if it was pure coincidence or what, but Liam walked right into the same coffee shop. He seemed to be coming in for a quick break. After taking a seat at a table near the wall, he had his assistant order him a coffee while he stared intently at his laptop, working. I told myself I was overthinking it and immediately pulled my gaze back. “They said the English Literature major was gorgeous, and seeing you today, the rumors were true.” Getting complimented by my date put me in a great mood, so I didn’t hold back on returning the favor. “Oh, please. You’re the one turning heads, Ethan. I’ve seen my fair share of good-looking guys, but someone as handsome as you? That’s a first.” “Haha, I can tell. You’re not just beautiful, you’re sweet too. I’m so lucky a girl like you actually agreed to a blind date with me.” “Um, I do have one question, if you don’t mind? I’m just genuinely curious.” “Go ahead. If I can answer it, I will.” “I felt a great connection with you the second we met, so I’m honestly wondering… how did your last relationship end?” “Ah…” “If it’s uncomfortable, we don’t have to talk about it.” I glanced in Liam’s direction and said calmly, “It’s nothing uncomfortable. Honestly, I’ve just been a total workaholic lately. I haven’t been dating at all.” Cough. Liam suddenly choked violently. I looked over. His assistant immediately hovered over him. “Mr. Vance, is the coffee too hot?!” Liam kept a stone-cold expression. “Too bitter. Get me some sugar.” Even though we were sitting so close, he never once glanced in my direction. And to think, he used to call me ‘baby’. I boredly looked back at my date. Ethan paused for a second, then seemed to brush it off and laughed. “Makes sense. With how amazing you are, if you were dating, someone would have locked you down and kept you all to themselves by now. Why wait? How about this, we don’t have each other’s numbers yet. Let’s exchange contacts?” I agreed instantly. “Sure.” Just as we were scanning each other’s phones, Liam walked briskly past our table, laptop in hand. His strides were sharp, and I only managed to catch sight of his assistant hurriedly rushing to keep up with him. 8 That night, Sarah called. “How was the date? Did you like him? I’m so sorry, work was insane this afternoon and I couldn’t slip away.” I muted the TV. “He’s actually great. Height, looks, income—all excellent. Definitely worth trying. He seemed pretty interested in me, too.” It was loud on her end; she must have been at a bar. “HEIGHT, LOOKS, INCOME?! YOU’RE HAPPY WITH ALL OF IT AND YOU’VE DECIDED TO DATE HIM?!” Sarah suddenly screamed into the phone at the top of her lungs, as if terrified someone wouldn’t hear her. “Keep your voice down, you’re going to blow out my eardrum.” “I’m at a bar, it’s loud in here! I wanted to make sure you heard me!” “Blegh—” Suddenly, I heard the sound of someone throwing up on the other end. “Did you just throw up?” “Heh, no, that wasn’t me… It’s just a heartbreaker getting some instant karma.” “A heartbreaker?” “Blegh—” “You idiot, why did you throw up on me?! …I gotta go.” Sarah, who had just been giggling, angrily hung up the phone. Summer nights always make the air feel restless. I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep. I grabbed my phone, scrolled through Instagram, and finally caved and clicked on Liam’s profile. It was still that same aloof profile picture. I clicked into his feed. Not a single post. I threw my phone down. Great. We broke up, and he literally feels nothing at all. 9 Going on a blind date is normal. But your ex’s mom eager to set you up with her nephew? That’s highly abnormal. And yet, that’s exactly what happened to me. Word got around that after Liam and I broke up, I was going on dates. Liam’s mom, Mrs. Vance, actually invited me to their house to set me up with Liam’s cousin, who was a commercial pilot. “Are you insane?!” I subtly pinched Sarah’s arm. I was totally tricked into coming here. Bright and early, Sarah sent a driver to pick me up, saying she was setting me up with a great guy. Turns out, the driver pulled right up to the Vance estate, and it was Mrs. Vance setting me up. I was completely dumbfounded. “You can’t blame me! When my aunt heard you were going on blind dates, she said we couldn’t let a catch like you leave the family, so she had to introduce you to the best.” “Let me tell you, she knows about the breakup. She gave Liam hell for two days straight. My aunt really loves you. Now that you guys are done, she wants to find you a reliable guy so she knows you’re taken care of.” “They wouldn’t even write this script for a soap opera.” I sat on pins and needles, scanning the room. The bedroom doors upstairs were closed. Thank God Liam wasn’t home. “Hehe, honestly, I didn’t expect my aunt to be this proactive either.” I knew this house very well. Back when I was a tutor, and during the six months Liam and I dated, he brought me here a couple of times. What surprised me was that Mrs. Vance never acted like my middle-class background was beneath them. When I first came over as Liam’s girlfriend, she even gave me an incredibly generous holiday gift. I was just incredibly embarrassed the whole time. Transitioning from ‘the tutor’ to ‘the girlfriend’ was extremely awkward. 10 Mrs. Vance brought out a plate of fruit. “If Sarah hadn’t told me you two broke up, I’d have no idea. That stupid boy doesn’t know what he had. I’m so angry at him.” She handed me a piece of melon on a fork. I was honestly overwhelmed by her kindness. “Thank you, Mrs. Vance. Honestly, we just weren’t a great fit. Breaking up early was the best thing for both of us.” Just then, a car pulled into the driveway. Mrs. Vance headed to the door. “He’s here.” Soon after, a tall, well-built man still wearing his pilot’s uniform walked in. I blinked. The Vance family genetics were truly unfair. Before I knew it, he was standing in front of me with a bouquet of champagne roses, smiling warmly. “I’m so sorry, traffic was terrible. Thank you for waiting. I brought some flowers as an apology, I hope that’s alright?” “It’s totally fine.” I took the flowers out of politeness. Sarah was watching us with giddy excitement and elbowed me. “Handsome, right? Doesn’t lose out to that little punk at all.” After saying that, Sarah darted a glance toward the upstairs. “What are you looking at?” She immediately snapped her gaze back, eyes gleaming, and dragged me toward the dining room. “Nothing… looking at nothing! Let’s go, time to eat.” On the grand dining table, exquisite dishes were perfectly arranged. Mrs. Vance waved us over. “I made all of this myself. Everyone, come taste.”

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I made Keir Sterling angry. No matter how I tried to make it up to him, he wouldn’t budge. Even when I told him I wasn’t feeling well, he didn’t panic the way he used to. I got off the Amtrak train and called him. “Keir, I’m in San Francisco for my heart appointment. Can you take me to the hospital?” Keir’s voice was sharp over the line. “Your heart was fixed years ago. Stop playing the victim, Leo. It’s pathetic.” A dull ache throbbed in my chest. “It’s just a follow-up,” I whispered. He let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Fine. Then stay there and wait.” I sat obediently in a corner of the crowded station. I waited for a long time. I waited until my heartbeat slowed, fluttered, and finally stopped. Keir never showed up. 01 Before I closed my eyes, I didn’t know I would die like this—so abruptly, in the waiting area of a noisy train station. I just felt very sleepy. I thought I’d just nap for a little while. Just a quick nap, and then I’d see Keir. I imagined him standing over me, sternly demanding why I couldn’t stay home instead of coming to the city to cause trouble. I closed my eyes, rehearsing the excuses I’d use to beg him to take me to the clinic: Because Keir was always the one who took me to my appointments. Because the insurance info was on his phone. Because if the doctor asked about my childhood surgery, Keir was the only one who remembered the details. Yeah. Those were the reasons. It definitely wasn’t because I missed him too much. But when I opened my eyes again, I saw my own body. It was still sitting in that corner of the crowded, grimy terminal. My head was tilted back against the wall, my eyelashes still, my body unmoving. I looked like I was just sleeping peacefully. My phone vibrated and slid from my lap, hitting the floor. I reached out to grab it without thinking, but my hand passed right through it. I stared at my translucent fingertips. The realization hit me with a slow, heavy thud. I was dead. Quietly, invisibly dead in a terminal full of strangers. I had died while waiting for Keir Sterling to come and “save” me. The screen lit up. A text from Keir from a minute ago. [Still waiting?] [That proves you weren’t actually sick.] [Leo, you’re lying again.] I didn’t lie, I said to the empty air. I really didn’t feel well. I was born with a heart defect. I had the surgery when I was six, and everyone thought I was cured. But three months ago, the tightness returned. My lips would turn blue, and I couldn’t catch my breath. Before “the incident,” Keir would have been terrified. He would have dropped everything to get me to a specialist. But now, he didn’t believe a word I said. He was convinced I was a manipulative liar who would do anything for attention. Ever since we were teenagers, Keir had acted more like a parent than a brother. He was serious, mature, and protective. He worried about every scratch, every draft. He controlled the layers of clothes I wore and the temperature of the AC in my room. If I coughed or even frowned, Keir was there. I was spoiled by that attention. I grew selfish. I used to cling to him and say, “I’m never getting married.” I’d wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze hard. “And you’re not allowed to marry anyone either, Keir. You have to stay with me forever.” Keir would just laugh and ruffle my hair. “Stop talking nonsense,” he’d say, his voice not stern at all. And when I’d pouted, he’d add, “I’ll wait until you’re married first, okay? Will that make you happy?” I didn’t answer. I’d just stare up at his face for a long time. Half of me wanted time to stop forever. The other half hoped for something to change. Something did change. Just not the way I wanted. I should have looked at him longer while I was alive, I thought, staring at my own corpse. Now, I would never see him again. People walked past me, but no one looked twice. Someone sleeping in a train station was the most normal thing in the world. Then, a pair of small hands picked up the phone from the floor. 02 It was the little girl who had been sitting next to me. While I was still alive, we had talked for a bit. We’d even traded nicknames. She called me the “Pretty Boy,” and I called her “Sweet Pea.” Sweet Pea looked at the glowing screen, trying to read the text. But she was only five; the words were just shapes to her. She frowned, looked at me for a long time, and then gently tucked the phone back into my hand. She didn’t want to wake me. “Pretty Boy,” she whispered. “You dropped your phone. Hold it tight.” When I didn’t answer, she skipped back to her mother’s arms. A few minutes later, the phone buzzed again. Another text from Keir: [I’m already at St. Mary’s.] [If you want to come, call an Uber yourself.] He had promised to pick me up. Why did he change his mind? Was he not feeling well? Worrying about him, my spirit was suddenly yanked away. In a blink, I was floating in the hallway of St. Mary’s Medical Center. The first person I saw was Keir. He was in a charcoal-grey bespoke suit, his back to me, talking on the phone. He looked as mature and handsome as ever. No amount of stress seemed to touch him. I drifted toward him, intending to play a ghostly prank, when I heard him speak. “The doctor is checking Caleb now. He should be fine. Don’t worry, Mom.” Caleb? Why was he here? A second later, the exam room door opened. Keir hung up and walked over. “How is he?” he asked the person walking out. “Keir, the doctor said it’s nothing serious,” Caleb said. He grabbed Keir’s arm, his brow furrowed in a practiced wince. “But I still feel really shaky. Can you stay with me?” Caleb was such an actor. He was definitely faking it. I felt a surge of ghostly annoyance. I tried to grab his neck, but my hands just passed right through his throat. I watched Keir give Caleb a small, rare smile. “Okay,” he said softly. Keir was tall and imposing, with sharp features and a gaze that could be chillingly cold. When he wasn’t speaking, he carried an air of effortless authority. But whenever he smiled at me, I thought he was the gentlest man on earth. But Keir hadn’t smiled at me in a very long time. “However,” Keir’s gentle expression faded slightly. “Leo should be arriving soon. I have to take him for his heart check-up.” A flash of resentment crossed Caleb’s eyes, but he hid it instantly. He smiled and said, “Keir, you’re the best person I know. Leo isn’t even your real brother, and he’s lied to you so many times. I can’t believe you’re still being this good to him.” Memories of my “lies” must have hit Keir. His face darkened. “This is the last time,” he said, his voice flat. “After today, if he comes looking for me with another one of his stunts, I won’t see him.” I hovered in that sterile, white hallway. The cold wind from an open window seemed to blow right through me. It was strange. How could my heart still hurt if I was dead? It really is the last time, I thought. Keir. I won’t bother you ever again. Because I think I’m already gone. Caleb looked pleased with Keir’s answer. He started to pull him toward the exit. Before they reached the door, Keir’s phone rang. I drifted closer and heard the voice on the other end: “Mr. Sterling, do you have any news about Leo?” 03 “Leo Evans is no longer a member of this family.” Keir recognized the caller and spoke with cold impatience. “I hope you’ll stop using him as an excuse to contact the Sterlings.” The person on the phone was my biological mother. Maybe it was the cancer, or maybe it was the crushing weight of her own guilt, but her voice was a weak, trembling sob. “I was wrong, Keir. I never should have switched them at the hospital. But Leo is innocent. Can’t you… treat him the way you used to?” It was a classic, trashy novel plot. I was the “fake heir” of the Sterling family. When I was born, I was diagnosed with a severe heart defect. My biological mother, terrified she couldn’t afford to keep me alive, secretly swapped me with the Sterlings’ healthy newborn. She didn’t confess until recently, when her lung cancer became terminal. She had knelt at the gates of the Sterling estate, sobbing and banging her head on the pavement. “I was wrong! This is my karma! I’m dying! I’m giving Caleb back to you… just please, let me see Leo! He’s my real son!” When I finally met her, she wasn’t loving. She told me, “The Sterlings fixed your heart. You got a good deal. You had twenty years of luxury. Now it’s Caleb’s turn.” I wasn’t even that sad. She was right, after all. The night Caleb moved in, he came to my room pretending to be the peacemaker. He said he’d beg our parents to let me stay. I was a fool. I blushed and told him, “I want to stay, too. But not as Keir’s brother.” So I confessed to Keir. I told him I was relieved we weren’t blood-related. I told him I’d known for a long time that what I felt for him wasn’t just “family” love. I told him I wanted to be with him forever. I waited, my heart pounding, looking into his eyes. I only saw coldness and disgust. “Forever?” Keir had sneered. “You just want to stay in this house and keep the lifestyle you stole.” He pulled out an audio recorder. It played a conversation I’d supposedly had with Caleb the day before. But the words were wrong. It sounded like my voice, but it was saying things I never said: I have a way to stay. If I get with Keir, they won’t kick me out. I’ve been acting close to him for years just for this moment. The sound of an ambulance siren outside snapped me out of the memory. An ER doctor rushed past, bumping into Keir. “Sorry,” the doctor panted. “We have a DOA coming in. Need to prep for a possible resuscitation.” Keir nodded absently. He turned back to the phone. “So you’re saying I should just let him keep playing his little games? Let him use me?” He let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “I guess ‘low-life’ runs in the blood. Why else would he think of confessing to his own ‘brother’ to save his skin?” The background noise of the phone call grew louder. I heard a nurse in the background: “Bed 3, if you don’t pay the deposit, we have to stop the meds…” Keir heard it. “Leo didn’t come to see me because he’s sick. He’s here to beg for more money for you, isn’t he?” Without waiting for an answer, Keir hung up. He immediately typed a message: [Leo, don’t bother coming.] [I’m not giving you another cent.] I didn’t come for money, I thought. I’m never taking your money again. I instinctively stepped back as Keir walked past me. Even though he couldn’t see me, I felt the need to get away. He really, really hated me. “He’s not coming. Let’s go,” Keir told Caleb. They walked out of the hospital. As they reached the car, an ambulance screeched to a halt at the ER entrance. A gurney covered in a white sheet was rushed inside. Keir caught a glimpse in the rearview mirror, then looked away, his jaw tight. The Rolls Royce began to roll toward the exit. Suddenly, the driver hit the brakes. The ER doctor from earlier was tapping on the back window. Keir rolled it down. “Is there a problem?” 04 “Excuse me, is this yours?” The doctor held out a cufflink. It was matte platinum wrapped around a finely cut black onyx. It was the birthday gift I’d given Keir last year. Keir recognized it instantly. He took it. “Yes. It is.” “It must have snagged on me when we bumped into each other,” the doctor said. “It fell right into my pocket.” Keir gripped the cufflink in his palm and nodded thanks. The car drove off. Caleb started talking again, but Keir was silent. He didn’t open his hand. I sat in the corner of the backseat, watching his profile. Was he remembering that birthday? The cufflink was a custom piece from a famous independent designer. It was outrageously expensive. I wanted to buy it with my own money, not the Sterlings’ allowance. I had spent six months painting late into the night, selling my work piece by piece until I had enough. At midnight on his birthday, I’d snuck into his room. He was looking at spreadsheets, frowning, but he smiled the second he saw me. I stood in front of him and commanded, “Stay serious. No smiling.” I told him to close his eyes. Keir obeyed, but his lips kept twitching upward. The room was so quiet I could hear my own heart. “Leo?” he’d whispered when I stayed quiet too long. I’d nervously pushed the velvet box into his hand. “You can open them now.” He looked genuinely surprised. “Put it on for me,” he’d smiled. As I reached for his sleeve, I realized my fingers were shaking. I shoved the box into his hand, muttered “Happy Birthday,” and bolted out of the room. Back in my own bed, I replayed the scene over and over. A few minutes later, Keir knocked and walked in. He pulled me out from under the covers and laughed. “Why are you running?” I looked at him, wanting to say, You have no idea. Keir handed me a large gift box. Inside was a professional set of custom paints and an antique brush I’d wanted for years. The set alone cost more than the cufflinks. It was a San Francisco spring night. The scent of magnolia blossoms drifted through the open window. “Do you like it?” Keir asked, messing up my hair. He looked at me with such pure, raw affection. “I love it,” I whispered. The Rolls Royce pulled into the Sterling estate. My mother met them at the door. “How is Caleb?” she asked. Keir said he was fine. Caleb did his routine. He hugged Mom and said he felt dizzy. Mom comforted him briefly and sent him to bed. But when Caleb was gone, her face remained pale. “Mom, are you okay?” Keir asked. Mom rubbed her chest, frowning. “Caleb is fine, but why do I feel so restless? So scared?” “Do you think something happened to Leo? The city is so cold this time of year, and his heart…” “Keir, go get him. Bring him home. Please.” 05 Keir gave a dismissive smile. “What could happen to him?” “He’s always been dramatic. He fakes being sick just so we’ll all orbit around him. Besides, his heart was fixed years ago.” Mom shook her head, her eyes full of worry. “You were there for the follow-ups, Keir. Didn’t you listen to the doctors? A successful surgery in childhood doesn’t mean a cure for life. Many of those kids need valve replacements as adults.” Mom kept talking, oblivious to Keir’s expression suddenly freezing. “Leo was always so smart. When he was fine, he’d act out, make us laugh, make us think he was invincible. But when he was actually hurting… he’d get so quiet. So well-behaved.” “Do you remember when he fainted at school? I rushed to the hospital and asked him why he went to class if he felt bad. Do you know what he told me?” Mom’s eyes filled with tears. “That boy said he knew his condition was serious. He knew he might die. He said that if it was going to happen, he wanted to be far away. He didn’t want to die at home.” “He said that way, we wouldn’t have to be sad every time we walked into a room. We wouldn’t have to be afraid of our own house.” Mom choked on a sob. “Silly boy. He talked about himself like he was a stray dog nobody wanted!” I floated in the air, wanting to hug her. I wanted to wipe her tears. But I couldn’t. I really did die far away from home. Just like a stray dog. I couldn’t help but envy Caleb. He had such good parents. Such a good brother. Even the mother who stole me for him had tried to plan his future with her last breath. Keir remained silent for a long time, his jaw working. “He’s in the city,” he said finally. “He probably came to ask for money.” Mom looked shocked. “How? He didn’t take any of his credit cards. He didn’t take any of the luxury things we bought him. Why would he come back for money now?” Keir’s voice wavered. “His biological mother… her hospital bills. They were going to stop her meds.” Mom sighed. “That’s because she was being transferred. We pre-paid a massive deposit at a specialized hospice for her, Keir. Out of respect for her raising Caleb.” Keir’s face went ash-white. “Really?” “Yes! Now call him. Find out where he is. Tell him his Mom and Dad are waiting for him at home.” Keir pulled out his phone. He finally dialed my number. I listened to the monotonous ringing and thought: No one is going to answer. But a second later, the call was picked up. 06 The background was full of noise, but no one spoke. “Leo!” Keir barked. “Why didn’t you answer my texts?!” There was a soft gasp on the other end. Two seconds later, a tiny, childish voice spoke. “Are you the person the Pretty Boy is waiting for?” Keir froze. He softened his tone. “Who is this?” “I’m Sweet Pea!” Keir took a breath, trying to be patient. “Can you put the owner of the phone on the line, please?” “Um…” Sweet Pea sounded hesitant. She whispered into the phone, “But the Pretty Boy is sleeping. He looks really tired, so he’s been sleeping for a long time. My mommy says good girls don’t wake people up.” Keir’s lips twitched in a mix of frustration and relief. “Tell him when he wakes up to stay exactly where he is. I’m coming to get him.” “Who are you?” Sweet Pea asked. “Are you the one he’s waiting for?” Keir said, “Yes.” Sweet Pea sounded confused. “No. The Pretty Boy said he was waiting for his big brother. He said his brother is very gentle and kind. He said his brother is the best person in the whole world.” She lowered her voice. “But you sound so mean…” Keir went dead silent. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He hung up. Mom looked at him reproachfully. “You let him wait so long he fell asleep?” Keir regained his stern composure. “I just wanted to teach him a lesson so he’d stop lying.” Mom looked at him with deep concern. “Leo was always your favorite person in the world, Keir. Why are you being so hard on him? Just because he isn’t your blood?” Keir didn’t answer. He just shook his head. “You have a big heart, Keir. You don’t let many things get to you,” Mom said softly. “Only the people you care about can truly make you angry. But Leo is sensitive. Don’t break his heart.” Did he break my heart? I wondered. A little bit, maybe. When he accused me of faking it, of lying to get money… my heart had hurt with a sharp, physical intensity. Mom didn’t know about my confession. She didn’t know why Keir was so angry. How could it be because he cared? How could someone who cares be so cruel? I couldn’t understand. Keir stepped out into the night. It had started to snow. Traffic was a nightmare. The Rolls Royce crawled through the slush. Keir rolled down the window twice to check the street, but he didn’t tell the driver to hurry. As they neared the station, Keir sent another text. [Can you make it to the exit yourself?] He quickly followed it with: [Never mind. Stay in the waiting room. Don’t move.] By the time the car parked, I still hadn’t replied. Keir walked toward the terminal, his face set in a cold mask of irritation. “Leo, you’re really pushing it now,” he muttered to himself. “Wait until I see you—” He stopped dead. I looked where he was looking. He was looking at me. 07 The terminal was still packed. Travelers were rushing everywhere with their suitcases. Keir was tall and striking, a beacon of wealth in the middle of the grime. There was snow on his shoulders. He was staring at me. I was exactly as I had been. Leaning against the wall, eyes closed. The quietest person in the room. Keir suddenly didn’t seem to be in a rush anymore. His steps were slow, silent. He didn’t want to wake me. He stopped in front of me and looked at me for a long time. Then, he reached out and tapped my forehead. “Leo. You’ve made your point. Stop pretending.” When I didn’t move, Keir let out a frustrated huff. He did what he used to do when I was being stubborn—he pinched my cheek. “If you don’t get up right now, I’m leaving. Don’t cry to me about it later.” He gave my shoulder a firm nudge. My body lost its balance. I slumped forward, soft and heavy, right into Keir’s arms. “Leo!” He caught me, his patience at an end. “Wake up! Stop playing around!” Then, he felt it. The weight. The temperature. Keir finally looked at my face. His fingertips began to shake as he touched my purple-tinged lips. He grabbed my hand. My fingernails were blue. “Leo?” He said my name again, but the anger was gone. Sweet Pea hopped off her chair. “Is the Pretty Boy okay? Is he just being lazy?” Keir scooped me up in a bridal carry and sprinted for the exit. “He’s sick!” he barked at no one in particular. The heater in the Rolls Royce was blasting, but my body remained cold. Keir couldn’t warm me up. He called the hospital, telling them he had a patient in a deep coma with severe cyanosis. He told them to have a team ready at the door. The driver was flying. Keir kept telling him to go faster. He looked at my face, and his own breathing grew ragged, uneven. The car swerved through the storm, making my body toss. Keir held me tighter. “It’s okay,” he whispered over and over. “Don’t be afraid. We’re almost there.” My cold forehead was pressed against his neck. I couldn’t feel his warmth. It’s no use, Keir, I thought. There’s no hope left. I looked out the window. The snow was hitting the glass in clumps, shattering. I remembered seeing that same image once through a plane window. Keir had been on a business trip over New Year’s. I’d lied to my professors, taken a red-eye flight, and flown through a blizzard to surprise him. The plane had circled for an hour, briefly losing contact with the tower. When I landed, Keir was waiting at the gate. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot with fury. “Leo Sterling, who gave you permission to do this?!” He’d grabbed my wrists, his voice shaking with a rage I’d never seen. “Why couldn’t you just stay home?! What if the plane crashed?! What if you died?!” I’d looked up at him, the snowflakes on my lashes melting into my eyes. “Because I didn’t want you to be alone on New Year’s Eve.” “I’m sorry,” I’d whispered. Keir had stared at me for a few seconds, then the anger vanished. Like every other person in the arrivals hall, he’d pulled me into a crushing embrace. He held me so tight I couldn’t tell if I was forgiven. But I loved it. I wanted him to hold me forever. I realize now that Keir really did give me hope back then. That was why I was foolish enough to confess. I overplayed my hand.

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Silas Sterling had a car accident and lost his memory. He forgot everything—including the fact that he had once systematically hunted me down and forced me to be his. When his family found out, they didn’t waste a heartbeat. They helped him divorce me before he could even form a sentence. Less than twelve hours later, I stood in a strange city, a divorce decree in one hand and a massive settlement check in the other, feeling utterly lost. After being the object of Silas’s “forced affection” for so long, this sudden freedom felt like a phantom limb. I settled down in this new city, starting a quiet, ordinary life. Then, one day while grocery shopping, someone covered my mouth and nose from behind. When I opened my eyes, I was in a dark, terrifyingly familiar basement. A cold, crisp male voice whispered in my ear: “Be my woman, and I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” …Great. Exactly like the first time. 1 By the time I learned about Silas Sterling’s amnesia, it had been a full week since the crash. The surgeons had spent hours in the OR just to keep his heart beating. His mother told me about it with tears of grief in one eye and sparks of fury in the other. “If it weren’t for his obsession with finding you, Silas would never have ended up like this!” she spat. She said Silas was supposedly in a therapy session that day. When he discovered I had escaped, he jumped into his car and sped off to hunt me down. In a moment of distraction, he slammed head-on into a speeding semi-truck. Luckily, his car was expensive enough that the safety features saved his life, and the truck driver swerved just enough to avoid a total kill. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have just lost his memory; he would have been signing up for reincarnation. I had a sudden realization. Oh… so that was it. No wonder he hadn’t come for me all those days. I actually thought my GPS tracker had finally malfunctioned. Meanwhile, I’d been shivering in the wind on a remote island for a week for no reason. 2 I was the wife Silas Sterling took by force. To be honest, I never saw what attracted him to me. I was just a regular corporate workhorse, and he was the CEO’s boss. The only “spark” between us, if you can call it that, happened at a corporate gala. I had used a wine bottle to crack open the skull of his cousin, who was busy harassing a junior staffer. At the time, I was certain I was getting fired. The next day, instead of a pink slip, I got a transfer order. I was moved from that crumbling branch office to the high-rise headquarters everyone was dying to get into. My salary tripled. I became a dedicated corporate drone immediately, working like my life depended on it. Silas seemed to appreciate my hustle. He always greeted me with a smile, gave me raises and promotions like they were candy, fired the managers who tried to sabotage me, and helped me get rid of a persistent, toxic ex-boyfriend. He validated my work and covered for all my mistakes. He wore the cheap cufflinks I bought him every single day for years. I felt like the luckiest girl alive. Every day after work, I’d practically thank the stars for such an incredible boss. I was prepared to work for him for the rest of my life. Then came the night I had too much to drink at a firm event. In a blur, Silas helped me into his car. He let me lean against his shoulder and whispered, “Sleep. I’ll get you home.” I don’t have a high tolerance, and that night was enough to put me out until morning. But for some reason, I woke up halfway through the drive. I opened my eyes and saw Silas Sterling. He was leaning in, secretly kissing my lips. 3 Silas tore the veil right off. He stopped pretending. He told me he loved me. A billionaire’s pursuit is always blunt and overwhelming. Private jets, yachts, diamond gowns, rare art—if I could dream it, he could buy it. And he wasn’t exactly hard to look at, either. Sharp features, broad shoulders, a narrow waist. He looked sophisticated when he smiled and dangerously innocent when he didn’t. Every time I walked down the street with him, people looked at me like I’d won the lottery. But I’m an honest person. I just didn’t love him. I thought, If this were a scam, I’d take him for every cent he’s worth. But it wasn’t. I hated to admit that the mountain of gold and silver he piled up for me was actually built on genuine affection. And according to the universe, deceiving a sincere heart is a cardinal sin. So, after I rejected him for the hundredth time, he snapped. He owned a waterfront estate with a soundproofed “panic room.” Every time I tried to run, he’d drag me back there to “show me how much he cared.” Afterward, with his face still flushed, he’d force me to talk about marriage. “Be my woman. I’ll give you the world,” he’d say. He threatened me. He told me if I didn’t agree, he’d lock me up forever so I’d never see the sun again. Of course, he said those things a thousand times and never actually did them. Every time he caught me, he’d get so frustrated by my indifference that his eyes would turn red, looking like he was the one being bullied. I usually stayed quiet for a while after that—mostly because I thought he looked incredibly sexy when he was on the verge of tears. At first, the whole “cat and mouse” game was almost fresh. But after a while, even I got bored. I couldn’t get away, and he couldn’t bring himself to actually hurt me. Besides, the estate was massive with plenty of unexplored corners; spending all my time in a cramped basement room wasn’t practical. So, on a beautiful, sunny afternoon, I married Silas Sterling. 4 Most of the time, Silas was dominant. Like every possessive man in power, he wanted me glued to his side, tracking my every move 24/7. But he was also deeply insecure. He knew our marriage was something he’d obtained through less-than-noble means, so he never actually dared to keep me locked in the house like a bird in a cage. He was neurotic. If he didn’t see me, he’d lose his mind. Eventually, torn between his insecurity and his need for control, he couldn’t help himself. While I was sleeping, he had GPS trackers embedded in my phone and my jewelry. If he noticed I’d been out for more than twenty-four hours, he’d show up within an hour to “retrieve” me. Once I figured out the pattern, I just started treating him like a personal Uber. If I got tired of wandering around, I’d just find a place to take a nap. I knew that when I woke up, I’d be in my pajamas in our oversized bed at home. It was as convenient as a teleportation spell. Of course, the price was waking up to “souvenirs” he’d leave on my skin. 5 This time, I miscalculated. I had only intended to take a day trip to the private island he’d gifted me. But three days passed, and not a single phone call came. I sat by the ocean, checking if the GPS in my phone was broken. I even wondered if a satellite had fallen out of orbit before I ever considered that something had happened to Silas. It turned out for the best. He had amnesia now. He’d forgotten me completely. When people told him he was married, he just waved them off with indifference. “Divorce her. I don’t even remember the woman,” he said. With a few strokes of fate’s pen, everyone won. Silas went back to being the cold, untouchable, workaholic billionaire he used to be. His mother could finally find him the “perfect” socialite debutante she’d always wanted for him. And me? I was free. Plus, I had eighty million dollars—USD. 6 Before I left, Silas’s mother warned me never to show my face to her son again. “Silas’s obsession with you was a psychological glitch. Now that he’s ‘cured,’ don’t even dream that he’ll ever look at you that way again.” I’d heard about Silas’s condition—a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder triggered by childhood trauma. Maybe that was why he was so stuck on me. It made sense. No sane person would ignore a woman’s lack of consent and go full “stolen bride” on her. The three-year marriage felt like a fever dream. When I woke up, the estate, the yachts, the diamonds, the basement… all gone. All I had was eighty million dollars in the bank. His mother told me to get lost, and I’m a woman of my word. I measured the furthest point from Silas on a map, booked the earliest flight, and flew away without looking back. 7 I settled in a city I didn’t know, bought a modest house, and filled it with simple furniture. Then, I found a part-time job at a local artisanal sweet shop. It felt like my life had reset to the time before I met Silas. Caleb Brooks, the grandson of the shop owner, was a senior in college who helped out during breaks. He loved following financial gossip. The shop’s projector was constantly playing news reels about CEOs and their scandals. That was how I saw Silas again. He was being discharged from the hospital. The media scrambled to photograph his still-pale face, but he didn’t give them a single glance. Cold, detached, untouchable. A reporter asked about the rumors of his secret marriage, even holding up a blurry, long-distance photo of me they’d found somewhere. “Mr. Sterling, is this lady your wife?” Silas glanced at it, his expression flat. “I’m sorry, I have no recollection of her.” Caleb sighed from the side. “Mr. Sterling is in his thirties, right? How is he still single?” “He’s a professor?” I asked, catching a detail. “Yeah, he used to be a guest lecturer at our university. Half the campus was in love with him.” “Why?” I leaned my head on my hand. “Because he didn’t take attendance?” “Because he’s hot, obviously!” Caleb told me stories about Silas—how he was the “Ice King” who rejected every girl and guy who threw themselves at him. The descriptions painted a picture of a man who perfectly matched the cold image on the screen. I remembered what Silas’s mother told me when we got married: “It’s all your fault. Silas wasn’t like this before he met you!” At the time, I thought she was delusional. How was I supposed to know what he was like before? From the day I met him, he’d been a relentless bastard who’d do anything to get what he wanted. The kind of guy who’d lick my hand after I slapped him. Now, I finally had a “Eureka” moment. Oh… so that was the real Silas Sterling. Psychological trauma really is a terrifying thing. It could make a refined, untouchable man go completely off the rails for me—making him act crazy, making him cry, making him do the most desperate things. Luckily, he’d forgotten. 8 Over the next few days, news about Silas was everywhere. Losing three years of memory didn’t seem to affect his business sense. One day he was acquiring a tech firm, the next he was closing a deal with a foreign tycoon. His business was more successful than ever. His media interviews were perfectly normal. The host asked if he was considering marriage soon. He said bluntly that he had no expectations for “romance” and would likely pursue a strategic business alliance in the future. “And if you meet a girl you actually like?” He gave a thin smile. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t do anything drastic. I respect a woman’s boundaries.” I stared at the screen in silence. Talk about a complete personality transplant. Caleb came out of the kitchen with a bowl of sweet rice pudding loaded with toppings. “Wow, generous today.” He grinned. “Gotta celebrate. I just got an offer.” “Congrats. Which firm?” “Sterling Group.” I choked on a rice ball and started coughing. “I thought… Sterling Group was based on the East Coast?” “They’re opening a massive West Coast branch. Haven’t you seen the news?” He rewound the interview by half an hour. There was Silas, talking about corporate expansion. And the first stop on his map? This exact city. I remembered my time as a corporate workhorse and gave Caleb a warning: “Headquarters is great, but branch offices are usually a grind.” “The pay is insane, though.” “You’re young. Why are you in such a rush for money?” Caleb caught my eye for a split second before looking away. “Maybe I want to feel more confident when I finally ask out the girl I like.” 9 I wasn’t imagining it. Caleb liked me. A twenty-year-old boy is too easy to read. The way his face flushed when we locked eyes, the way he fumbled with his sleeves, the way he’d “accidentally” show off his basketball moves—it was all there. Inevitably, he confessed. And I rejected him, quickly and cleanly. He wasn’t like Silas. When Silas was rejected, he’d just show up the next day acting like nothing happened, saying things like, “Persistence is a virtue.” Caleb was different. His eyes turned red the second I said no. He muttered a quick “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” and bolted out the door. At 11:00 PM, he still wasn’t back. His grandmother was pacing the floor in a panic. I was just about to call him when a text popped up: [Maya, I’m at the police station. Can you come bail me out?] 10 To my surprise, Caleb hadn’t done anything illegal out of heartbreak. In fact, he’d been a model employee all day. He’d been at a business dinner with a client. After the drinks started flowing, the client offered to take him to a “club” for some fun. Caleb, a bit tipsy, had followed along. He only realized the situation when someone tried to unbuckle his belt in a private VIP room. “I didn’t know the client was into guys or that the club was… that kind of place. I panicked and called the cops.” The result? He got caught up in the raid. “The client is threatening me,” Caleb said, looking like he was about to cry. “And my boss is on his way…” “Your boss?” I had a sinking feeling. “Which… boss?” “The big one…” Before he could finish, he stood up, his eyes welling with relief as he looked behind me. “Mr. Sterling. You came.” 11 Six months, and Silas hadn’t changed a bit. He still moved like a ghost, appearing out of thin air. I didn’t want to face him, so I pulled my baseball cap low and tried to disappear into the corner. He handled the police matter with surgical precision and didn’t show the client a shred of mercy, ensuring the man was charged. Through the glass, I heard him comforting Caleb. “Don’t worry about this in the future. The company always prioritizes employee safety.” “And don’t drink so much at business dinners.” Caleb sniffled. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Sterling. I was just… having a bad day. I got rejected by someone, so I wasn’t thinking straight.” “Love is inherently random. The odds of the person you like liking you back are statistically low,” Silas said, sounding like a wise, patient mentor. “There are many women in the world. You’ll find the right one. “Some things shouldn’t be forced.” I listened from the sidelines, feeling a weird sense of relief. This was the first time I’d ever heard Silas Sterling talk like a functioning human being. It was surreal. “By the way,” Silas asked, “Where is your family?” Caleb snapped out of it and gestured toward me. “Oh, she’s right there.” Silas followed his hand and looked my way. And in that exact moment, I happened to look up.

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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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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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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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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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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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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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