Category: English

During a video call with shareholders, my long-dormant high school group chat suddenly blew up. Someone kept tagging me: “Audrey Vance! Lana’s getting married today—why aren’t you there?” Scrolling through the messages, I realized it was Lana Hayes, our former queen bee. Our entire class had gathered for her wedding. “Sorry, my company’s been swamped,” I replied professionally. The group instantly attacked: “Too busy? You never post online—must be failing!” “Just admit you’re embarrassed!” Lana tagged me: “Remember our bet? That my husband would outshine yours?” “I don’t recall,” I answered honestly. The others mocked: “Lana’s husband is a Fortune 500 CEO! He sent 100 luxury cars to her hometown!” “Too ashamed to compare? Or too broke to afford a gift?” Lana then posted a wedding photo—and my blood ran cold. Her groom was Brandon Hayes. My husband. “I’ll be there,” I typed, my fingers steady. “Wouldn’t miss your ‘happy moment’ for the world.” 1 No sooner had I replied to Lana than I received a text from Brandon: “Wife, I’m going back to my hometown to see my parents today. I’ve already made your food and put it in the fridge. Just heat it up when you’re ready to eat.” It ended with: “Darling, I’ll love you forever.” Brandon had been my husband for three years, a man who had moved into my home with nothing to his name. He always took care of my every need, anticipating everything. Even when he left, he never forgot to prepare for my daily necessities. I used to be touched by these thoughtful gestures. But now, they only struck me as laughable. I abruptly ended my video conference and, following the wedding location Lana had shared in the group, drove toward her hometown. From a distance, I could see a colossal red banner hanging above Lana’s family home: “A Warm Welcome to Mr. Brandon Hayes, CEO of Evergreen Group, for the Wedding Procession!” Beneath the banner, Lana stood in a pristine, custom-designed wedding gown, eagerly awaiting her groom. Around her clustered our old high school classmates. “Lana, you kept this so quiet! To think your man is the CEO of the Evergreen Group, and you only let us know on your wedding day!” “Seriously! Mr. Hayes is a renowned entrepreneur. You’re so clever, Lana, to marry such an outstanding, high-caliber man!” “Lana, you’re about to become a wealthy socialite. Don’t forget us old classmates when you’re rich and famous!” Even our old high school teacher fawned over Lana: “Lana, the moment I first saw you, I knew you’d achieve great things. That’s why I never scolded you, even when your grades weren’t great. I knew you were destined for wealth, you didn’t need grades to speak for you!” Amidst the chorus of praise, Lana’s lips curved into a triumphant smile, her eyes gleaming with pride and satisfaction. Brandon, who had moved into my home years ago, had always seemed somewhat idle. To give him purpose and experience, I had entrusted him with the management of Evergreen Group, my smallest company. It never occurred to me that this would become the very source of Lana’s inflated ego. As I arrived, the classmates, who had been so eager to flatter, instantly frowned, their gazes filled with disdain. One of Lana’s closest sidekicks, spotting the car behind me, immediately rushed over, sneering: “Audrey Vance, you are so vain! You actually rented a Bentley just to come to Lana’s wedding and put on airs?” Hearing this, others joined in, their voices dripping with contempt: “No wonder she dared to show up. So, she just wanted to show off? That car rental must cost at least three months of your salary!” “Some people just love to live beyond their means. No matter how much you pretend to be rich, can you really be richer than Lana’s husband?!” “Exactly! Is it so hard to admit someone’s better than you? Why go to all the trouble of renting a car just to show off your petty jealousy?” Facing their denigration, my expression remained unchanged. “This is my car.” No sooner had the words left my lips than Lana suddenly walked up to me. She lashed out, a stinging slap across my face. “Your car? This is clearly my husband’s car! I’ve suspected for a while that my husband was keeping a mistress, and I can’t believe it’s you, you cheap tramp! You shameless wretch, how dare you drive my husband’s car to my wedding to provoke me, his rightful wife?” 2 Lana’s outburst made our classmates’ eyes widen in shock. “Lana, this is your husband’s car? Seriously?” Lana’s face was full of haughty pride. “Of course it is! How could it be fake?” She then pulled out her phone and displayed several photos of her and Brandon. Some showed them intimately close in the car, others lounging on the hood, leaning against each other. The car’s interior details and license plate were clearly visible in the pictures. It was identical to my car. At this, the crowd buzzed with confirmation. “It really is Lana’s husband’s car. So, Audrey is definitely the mistress!” Lana’s eyebrows shot up in fury, and she spat, her voice sharp and cold: “No wonder you haven’t posted on social media in years. Turns out you’ve been busy playing mistress.” Hearing this, others glared at me. “I never would’ve thought it! Audrey Vance looks so respectable on the surface, but she’s actually engaging in such despicable affairs.” “Seriously! I even thought she was some cool, aloof scholar in high school and wrote her a love letter. Thinking about it now makes me sick!” “Some people act so high and mighty and innocent, but behind closed doors, who knows how loose they are? The moment they see a rich man, they go wild, practically begging for attention!” “And she even dares to drive her sugar daddy’s car right in front of the rightful wife to provoke her! I think she’s just jealous that Lana married well and came here deliberately to ruin the wedding!” Even our high school teacher looked at me with disdain, declaring, “Audrey Vance, from now on, when you’re out there, never say you were my student. I certainly never taught a student with such moral depravity!” The crowd’s incessant chatter and condemnation drew many onlookers, who pointed and whispered about me. Some even pulled out their phones to take pictures and videos, and a few even spat in my direction. I calmly removed my jacket, worth tens of thousands, and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Then, I faced Lana directly. “I advise you to ask Brandon Hayes very clearly: who exactly is the mistress, and who is the rightful wife?” No sooner had the words left my lips than Lana swung again, slapping me across the face. “You need to ask? Can’t you see it’s Brandon and my wedding day?” She then looked at the car behind me, angrily cursing, “I detest mistresses! Every mistress in the world deserves to die!” With that, she pulled out a key and savagely scratched several large letters onto the side of my car: “Mistress Dies!” I glanced at the stark, ugly words, my voice chillingly clear. “You’ll realize very soon just how ironic those four words are.” My words only enraged Lana further. “You wretched tramp! You steal my man and then you have the nerve to mock me with your sneering sarcasm? The thought of my husband’s car being driven by a filthy hussy like you makes me sick!” With that, she picked up a brick from the roadside and began to violently smash my car. The windows, the headlights, the hood – nothing was spared. “Lana is going to be the CEO’s wife of the Evergreen Group! We can’t let her be bullied by a low-class mistress like Audrey!” someone in the crowd of classmates yelled. Instantly, everyone else began grabbing whatever they could find – rocks, sticks, bottles – and threw themselves into smashing my car. After they shattered the windows, they even climbed inside, wildly slashing at the car seats and interior. The once pristine luxury car was transformed into a pile of mangled scrap metal in mere moments. I watched these frenzied people, my gaze icy. “I hope you’ll be just as happy and enthusiastic when it comes time for compensation.” No one paid any attention to my warning; they treated me as if I were invisible. Just then, one of Lana’s cronies smashed open the trunk and gasped, “Everyone, look! She’s got a lot of good stuff hidden in her trunk!” Lana walked over, pulled out a painting, and scoffed. “A cheap woman who sells her body for money, pretending to be a collector, putting on airs of elegance?” Seeing this, I couldn’t help but warn them. “These things are worth far more than my car, especially that painting and calligraphy. I advise you not to mess with them.” The items in the trunk were collectibles I had acquired from auctions but hadn’t yet found a place for. Lana’s fury only intensified at my words. “This painting is a desecration being collected by a wretch like you! Trash like you only deserves trash!” With that, she tore the painting to shreds right in front of me. After ripping it, she threw it on the ground and stomped on it with her foot. Our high school teacher, upon closer inspection of the painting, gasped: “This painting… it looks like a genuine Qi Baishi! I heard the starting bid at auction was over three hundred million!” Lana retorted indignantly, “So what if it’s three hundred million? It’s all my husband’s money anyway! My husband’s money is my money. What’s wrong with me smashing my own property?” Her words left me speechless. Not only was Brandon a man who had married into my family with nothing, but even after I put him in charge of Evergreen Group, his incompetence had caused the company’s market value to drop by nearly half. If he weren’t my husband, I would have fired him long ago. Yet, Lana and these old classmates saw him as a formidable CEO, idolizing him. With Lana leading the charge in tearing up the painting, the other classmates, unwilling to be outdone, also began smashing and ripping apart the collectibles in my trunk. Good advice falls on deaf ears when dealing with those bent on self-destruction. Since they were consumed by their frenzy, I saw no point in saying anything further. I simply pulled out my phone, intending to call the police. Just as my finger touched the dial screen, Lana rushed over, snatched my phone, and slammed it to the ground. “Still trying to call the police? You’re just a mistress who only knows how to seduce men. What nerve do you have?” As she spoke, her gaze suddenly fell upon my neck, and her eyes lit up. “That jade pendant necklace you’re wearing doesn’t look cheap. Did you buy it with my husband’s money too?” With that, she yanked hard, tearing the necklace from my neck. Lana’s movements were so swift and violent, I had no time to react. The necklace was in her hand in an instant. Seeing this, my face paled. “Give me back my necklace!” 3 Seeing my sudden panic, Lana sneered at me. “So agitated? Looks like this necklace is worth a fortune, huh?” I panicked even more. “It’s not valuable in terms of money, but it’s incredibly important to me! Give it back!” As I spoke, I reached out to snatch it back. This jade pendant necklace was a protective charm my mother had risked her life to obtain for me. I had been frail and sickly since childhood. At four years old, I was hospitalized, critically ill and unconscious. Even the doctors told my parents to prepare for the worst. My mother couldn’t accept it, so she went to a temple to pray for me. To show her sincerity, she walked barefoot, kowtowing every step of the way, from the foot of the mountain to the summit, in the scorching heat of a 40-degree Celsius summer. She knelt until her knees bled and bone showed through, until her head was broken and bleeding, her consciousness fading, before finally obtaining this jade pendant necklace. Perhaps heaven itself was moved by my mother’s devotion. I, who had been in a coma, miraculously awoke. But my mother fell ill from that day and never recovered. Before she died, she placed the necklace in my hand, strictly instructing me to keep it safe. I cherished this necklace immensely, carrying it with me everywhere since childhood. It was something my mother had given her life for, and it was my absolute untouchable line. I would never allow anyone to damage it! “The more you want it, the more I’ll destroy it!” Before I could even touch it, Lana threw the necklace forcefully to the ground. With a sharp crack, the jade pendant shattered, breaking into countless fragments, scattering everywhere. “No!” Watching the only thing my mother had given her life for shatter like that, my heart twisted in agony. I couldn’t breathe. “You’re an animal!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I slapped Lana across the face. “You filthy tramp, you dare hit me?” Lana clutched her face, screaming hysterically. “Teach this wretch a lesson, a severe one! Whoever satisfies me the most, I’ll give them a million dollars!” At her words, the classmates, who already disliked me, immediately started punching and kicking me. “How dare you hit Lana? She’s the future wife of the CEO of Evergreen Group! Do you even deserve to breathe the same air as her?!” “Exactly! So what if she broke your necklace? You probably earned it by sleeping around anyway. Just go serve a few more men, problem solved! Why are you so dramatic?” “Shameless mistress! Seducing other people’s husbands is bad enough, but daring to hit the legitimate wife? Do you really think us old classmates are pushovers?” Even the teacher couldn’t resist sneaking in a few kicks. I was beaten to the ground, trembling with rage, gritting my teeth. “You’ll regret this!” At my words, the group of classmates erupted in laughter, as if they’d heard the funniest joke imaginable. “Laughing my ass off! Do you still think this is high school? Still think you’re superior because you were a straight-A student?” “Exactly! You’re nothing but trash discarded by society now! You’re already making money by sleeping around, and you still dare to threaten us?” “A mistress should know her place! When you get hit, you stand at attention!” “You shameless hussy! You’re so desperate to steal another woman’s man, even from an old classmate. Aren’t you embarrassed? If I were you, I’d just smash my head into a wall and die!” They held me down, relentlessly mocking and humiliating me. The onlookers also freely criticized me, spitting at me repeatedly. Lana, emboldened by the crowd’s support, stepped forward and placed her foot on my face. “Regret?” she crowed wildly. “I’ve never regretted anything in my life! I’m just waiting to see how you, you wretched mistress, could possibly make me regret this!” No sooner had the words left her lips than a hundred luxury cars roared into view, screeching to a halt before the crowd. Then, Brandon Hayes emerged from one of them, accompanied by a retinue of men in sharp suits… 4 The sudden, grand, and overwhelming display brought the chaotic scene to an abrupt, deafening silence. All eyes were drawn to the arriving procession. Those who had been holding me down immediately released me, straightened up, and stared. Lana, too, quickly removed her foot, adopting an air of gentle, demure grace. Brandon, with his handsome features and impeccable tailored suit, exuded an extraordinary presence. His arrival instantly commanded the attention of everyone present. “Is that Mr. Hayes from Evergreen Group?” “Yes, that’s him! He truly is a CEO, isn’t he? What an extravagant display for a wedding pickup!” “It’s so magnificent! I wouldn’t even dare to dream of so many luxury cars!” “And he’s so handsome too! Rich and attractive, no wonder that wretched Ms. Vance would stoop to being his mistress.” “Lana is truly blessed, marrying so well. I’m dying of envy!” Amidst everyone’s envious praises, Lana beamed, proudly stepping forward to link her arm through Brandon’s. “Darling, you’re finally here! I couldn’t wait to marry you.” Brandon gave Lana a doting smile and pulled her into a warm embrace. “My clingy little thing. I just love how you can’t be without me, my sweet bride.” Seeing this, the old classmates swarmed forward, their faces twisted into fawning smiles. “Mr. Hayes, it’s an honor. I own a small advertising company. If Evergreen Group ever has advertising needs, could you perhaps consider us first? Here’s my business card.” “Mr. Hayes, this is a new product our company developed. It’s complimentary for you to try. If you like it, please give us some feedback!” “Mr. Hayes, it’s a pleasure. I was Lana’s classmate for three years in high school. I’ve long admired your reputation. Do you think Evergreen Group has any suitable open positions? I’m willing to learn anything!” “Mr. Hayes…” In an instant, all the former classmates jostled and squeezed around Brandon, vying for his attention, using every conceivable method to promote themselves. Watching my former peers grovel and fawn over Brandon, Lana’s smile widened even further. She reveled in this feeling of superiority. Brandon, meanwhile, merely instructed his assistant to take all the business cards and samples, seemingly accustomed to such displays. Just then, Lana’s mother stepped forward, smiling at Brandon. “My dear son-in-law, we’ve specially prepared some fine tea for you. Please come inside and have a rest.” Brandon glanced at his watch. “Perhaps not. It’s getting late. I’ve already booked the hotel and banquet hall. With all these cars, there should be enough room for everyone to go together.” “Yes, yes, of course, let’s head over then.” The crowd nodded eagerly, heading towards the gleaming luxury cars. The thought of riding in such opulent vehicles to attend the wedding of the Evergreen Group CEO ignited sparks of excitement in their eyes. It was as if they had already reached the pinnacle of their lives. However, just as everyone was about to get into the cars, the piercing wail of police sirens rapidly approached from the distance. Immediately after, a group of police officers quickly disembarked from their vehicles, their voices stern: “Freeze! We’ve received a report of a public disturbance and assault here!”

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My twin sister, Genevieve, and I were both daughters of Lord Chancellor Hawthorne. Though our faces were identical, Mother only favored Genevieve, always praising her composure and grace. So, when the royal decree named me Queen, Mother wasn’t merely indifferent; she accused me of blocking Genevieve’s path to the throne. Driven by a chilling ruthlessness, and risking our family’s ruin, she brutally disfigured me with a blade, then orchestrated my death, ensuring my body would never be found. Afterward, she sent Genevieve to the palace, masquerading as me, to claim the crown. While my remains vanished without a trace, Genevieve birthed the Crown Prince and eventually ascended to the Queen Mother’s throne. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back on the very day Lord Chamberlain Thomas came to the Chancellor’s estate, bearing the royal decree. I secretly slipped a hundred gold coins into his palm, urging him to inform His Majesty that the true Elara possessed a distinctive crimson mole just behind her ear. “Mother,” Genevieve fretted, tugging at Lady Eleanor’s sleeve, her voice a delicate whine. “I heard portraits of all the noble daughters are now at court. With so many beautiful ladies, what if the Queen Mother and King Julian don’t choose me?” Lady Eleanor gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Genevieve’s forehead, her gaze soft and reassuring. “They wouldn’t dare, my darling. Our Genevieve is radiant, and accomplished in needlework, music, languages, and the arts. Who could possibly look upon you and not be captivated?” But Genevieve remained unconvinced, a petulant pout on her lips. “If I’m not chosen as Queen, I swear I’ll just die!” Mother shot her a sharp look, though no real anger flickered in her eyes. “Nonsense! If you die, what becomes of your mother? Now, now, darling, just days ago, I spoke with Queen Mother Isolde herself. She spoke of you at length, her interest clear. Rest assured, the crown will be yours, and yours alone. I won’t allow anyone to stand in your way.” I sat quietly to the side, my face carefully blank. Yet, hidden beneath the folds of my sleeve, my hands clenched into tight fists, nails digging into my palms until the skin broke. But that meager physical ache was nothing compared to the searing pain in my heart. For in Mother’s words, “anyone” included me, her own flesh and blood. In my past life, the scene unfolded identically, the same whispered assurances, the same anxious pleas. To soothe Genevieve’s nerves, I, in my naive kindness, offered her a cup of steaming tea. But as she rose, she bumped into me, and a splash of hot liquid landed on her sleeve. Without a word, she shoved me to the ground, then pointed a trembling finger at my face. “Elara, was that deliberate? You’re trying to scald me, disfigure me, so you can go to the palace yourself and become Queen, aren’t you?” Before I could utter a single word of explanation, Mother’s hand connected with my cheek in a resounding slap. “Elara, how could I have such a wicked daughter? Genevieve is your own sister! To try and ruin her face!” I clutched my stinging, swollen cheek, tears blurring my vision as I gazed at Mother. “Mother, I didn’t!” But she wouldn’t hear it. “Silence! Go back to your rooms. You’ll have no supper tonight!” Heartbroken, I retreated to my chambers. From the moment Genevieve and I were born, Mother’s heart had been biased. Simply because Genevieve appeared a little frailer, Mother poured the vast majority of her affection into her. I was taught from childhood that I must always defer to Genevieve. Anything Genevieve desired, I wasn’t even allowed to touch. As we grew, Genevieve’s sweet words and mastery of all refined arts further cemented her place in Mother’s affections. I, on the other hand, found no interest in such pursuits, preferring horsemanship and fencing. Mother saw me as a disgrace, and the meager scrap of motherly love she once offered me was entirely transferred to Genevieve. She cherished Genevieve like a precious jewel, fulfilling her every whim. But for me, there was only harsh words and blows. I once tried to emulate Genevieve, to win Mother’s favor. Yet, the more I tried, the deeper Mother’s disdain became. Eventually, I stopped seeking their company, striving instead to become an invisible presence within our own home. In my past life, when Mother learned I was to be Queen, she repeatedly questioned the Lord Chamberlain, asking if a mistake had been made. When he confirmed the decree, she still refused to believe it. She changed into her finest silks and hurried to the Queen Mother. But the answer remained the same. Genevieve, unable to accept that I would be Queen, attempted to hang herself. That very night, Mother had me bound and dragged to the forgotten storeroom. She disfigured me with a blade, then, to erase all traces of her cruelty, she orchestrated my death, ensuring my body would never be found. Afterward, she sent Genevieve to the palace, masquerading as me, to claim the crown. Even after Genevieve smoothly ascended to the throne, Mother feared I might still be a threat to her darling. So, to ensure no loose ends remained, she had me strangled. To my dying breath, I couldn’t comprehend why, as her own daughter, Mother could be so utterly ruthless. But now, given a second chance, I wouldn’t allow myself to repeat the past, to be Genevieve’s stepping stone. This time, I offered Genevieve no tea, no water. And so, her clothes remained dry. But that didn’t stop Mother from finding fault with me. “Elara, what are you doing just sitting there? Go back to your rooms! Your very presence vexes me!” Hearing Mother’s baseless accusations and undisguised loathing, this time, I felt no sorrow, no regret. Instead, I spoke with a quiet resolve. “Mother, I too wish to see which noble daughter will be named our kingdom’s new Queen.” Mother scoffed, her voice growing colder. “You ungrateful wretch! The Queen’s throne belongs to your sister, and no one else!” I glanced at Genevieve, who sat fidgeting, her anxiety palpable. I said no more. But that single glance was enough for Genevieve. She immediately rushed to my side, her voice rising to a shrill shriek. “Elara, what was that look? Do you doubt I’ll be chosen as Queen? I’m your own sister! How can you be so cold-hearted? If I become Queen, you’ll benefit too, find a good match! Mother’s right, you’re nothing but a viper, ungrateful to the bone!” Hearing Genevieve’s outburst, Mother’s anger flared. She slapped the side table, the sharp crack echoing through the room, about to launch into another tirade against me, when the butler burst in, his face beaming with excitement. “Lady Eleanor, young miss, Lord Chamberlain Thomas from the Queen Mother’s court has arrived! He carries a royal decree!” Genevieve’s face lit up. She assumed it was her proclamation of queenship, and without a second thought, she dashed outside. Mother, too, forgot her anger at me, quickly instructing the butler to prepare a generous gratuity for Lord Chamberlain Thomas. I squeezed the pouch of gold coins I had already prepared, a cold smile touching my lips. In my previous life, when she heard I was to be Queen, she’d given Lord Chamberlain Thomas no gratuity, not even a pleasant expression. Since she wouldn’t pay, I would prepare my own. In the reception hall, when Lord Chamberlain Thomas saw both Genevieve and me, his eyes widened in astonishment. “I’ve long heard tales of the Lord Chancellor’s daughters, beauties blessed by the heavens themselves. To think you are identical twins!” Before Mother could speak, I interjected, “Lord Chamberlain Thomas, my sister and I aren’t entirely identical. I—” Mother shot me a venomous glare, cutting me off abruptly. “Ill-mannered child! Lord Chamberlain Thomas wasn’t speaking to you. You have no business interjecting!” She then forced a saccharine smile as she turned back to him. “Lord Chamberlain, my younger daughter is quite spoiled, I’m afraid. She has no concept of proper etiquette. My elder daughter, Genevieve, is far more sensible!” But Lord Chamberlain Thomas waved a dismissive hand, approaching me with a beaming smile. “You must be Miss Elara, the second daughter?” “Yes, Lord Chamberlain!” He immediately bowed to me. “Congratulations, Miss Elara! His Majesty and the Queen Mother have personally chosen you to be our kingdom’s new Queen!” Silence descended upon the hall. Then, Mother, forgetting all decorum, grabbed Lord Chamberlain Thomas’s sleeve. “Lord Chamberlain, surely there’s been a mistake? I didn’t even send Elara’s portrait to the palace. How could she possibly be Queen?” Hearing Mother’s agitated questioning, Lord Chamberlain Thomas paused, slightly bewildered. By all rights, any daughter being named Queen should be a source of immense pride and honor. But the Lord Chancellor’s wife before him seemed not only displeased but outright furious. Clearly, this new Queen was not held in high regard at home. Subtly, Lord Chamberlain Thomas distanced himself from Mother, the smile on his face fading. “Lady Eleanor, I’m not privy to the matters of portraits. However, the royal writ clearly states that the second daughter of the Lord Chancellor, Elara, is to be crowned Queen. If I, of all people, were mistaken about the identity of our future Queen, I would have no choice but to beg for death. If you still doubt me, Lady Eleanor, please examine the decree yourself.” Mother snatched the writ. Indeed, the name “Elara” was clearly inscribed. Her face contorted with a mixture of disbelief and fury. Seeing this, the butler hesitated, unsure whether to present the gratuity to Lord Chamberlain Thomas. He glanced at Mother, only to meet her chilling, enraged eyes, and quickly shrank back to his original spot. Mother took a deep, shaky breath, then, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, addressed Lord Chamberlain Thomas. “Thank you for your trouble, Lord Chamberlain. I know your duties keep you busy, so we shan’t keep you for a meal.” The Lord Chamberlain, perceptive as he was, immediately understood the dismissal. His jovial demeanor vanished, replaced by a steely expression. He let out a barely perceptible snort and turned to leave. I watched Mother, a chilling realization dawning on me. Lord Chamberlain Thomas was the Queen Mother’s trusted confidant, a man accorded deference by everyone. Mother’s blatant disrespect was clearly an attempt to make my life in the palace unbearable. While Mother was still trying to comfort a distraught Genevieve, I quietly slipped out of the reception hall. “Lord Chamberlain Thomas, please wait.” I hurried after him. “Mother’s attitude was… regrettable. I hope you’ll be magnanimous enough to overlook it.” As I spoke, I discreetly pressed the prepared money pouch into his hand. It contained almost all my accumulated savings. Lord Chamberlain Thomas weighed the pouch, and his grim expression softened considerably. “Miss Elara, you possess a keen mind and a kind heart. No wonder the Queen Mother and His Majesty hold you in such high regard.” I offered a small smile, leaning in slightly. “Lord Chamberlain, my sister and I bear a striking resemblance. It would be… unfortunate if there were any confusion once I enter the palace. So, I would be deeply grateful if you could inform the Queen Mother and His Majesty of the subtle difference between us…” Lord Chamberlain Thomas bowed respectfully. “Thank you for the thoughtful reminder, young mistress. I shall certainly convey this information to the Queen Mother and His Majesty.” After seeing Lord Chamberlain Thomas off, I returned to the reception hall. Before I even entered, I heard Genevieve’s tearful wails. “Mother, you promised the crown would be mine! Why is it Elara who’s to be Queen? If she ascends the throne, she’ll lord over me! I’d rather die! I don’t care, I must be Queen! If all else fails, just let me take her place. We look so alike!” Mother knew that attempting to substitute the Queen was an act of treason punishable by death for the entire family. So, she didn’t immediately agree to Genevieve’s outrageous suggestion. Yet, her expression softened, a hint of temptation in her eyes. Seeing this, Genevieve pressed her advantage. “Mother, do you truly believe Elara’s temperament is fit to be Queen? If she brings shame upon the crown in the palace, it’s our entire family’s reputation that will be ruined! You yourself said I was blessed by the heavens, while Elara was cursed from birth. If she truly enters the palace, she might bring ruin upon our entire lineage! Mother, you always doted on Genevieve! Please, help me!” Mother gently stroked Genevieve’s face, her eyes filled with boundless affection. “Genevieve, I told you, no one will stand in your way. I will seek an audience with the Queen Mother first. If… if it truly proves impossible to change the decree, then you shall indeed take Elara’s place in the palace. It would be a great sacrifice for my darling Genevieve!” At these words, Genevieve buried her face in Mother’s embrace, her tears transforming into a radiant smile. Standing outside the door, I clenched my fists until my knuckles shone white. A sacrifice? To take my place as Queen was considered a sacrifice for Genevieve? I suppressed the bitter ache in my chest, closed my eyes for a moment, then turned and walked back to my rooms. When Mother returned from the palace, her face remained grim. Not long after, frantic shouts from the maids echoed from Genevieve’s courtyard. Genevieve had tried to hang herself! But she was far too fond of life to truly take her own. This was merely a calculated act to push Mother to make a final, desperate decision. Sure enough, that very night, two burly women burst into my private chambers. They clapped a hand over my mouth, bound me tightly, and dragged me to the dank storeroom. Mother stood before my disheveled form, her gaze devoid of any warmth. “Elara, if you agree to swap places with Genevieve, I will spare you, for old times’ sake. After all, you have no grace, no talent for the arts. You’d only bring shame to the palace. Only a refined lady like Genevieve is fit to be a Queen.” My face set, I challenged her. “Mother, I am your daughter too! How can you be so cruel to me?” Without a word, she slapped me again. “Stop your whining. Just tell me, do you agree or not! I should have strangled you at birth, then we wouldn’t have this trouble today!” My eyes burned, a glacial anger creeping into their depths as I stared at the ruthless woman before me. Yet, I stubbornly refused to agree. At that moment, Mother suddenly drew a dagger from her sleeve and advanced on me, step by chilling step. “If you don’t agree now, I’ll carve up your face with this blade!” The cold, sharp steel pressed against my skin, and my skin prickled with dread. The excruciating pain of a blade tearing through flesh, so vividly remembered from my past life, replayed in my mind, making my body tremble. When Genevieve and I had our fifth birthday, an old seer suddenly appeared at the Chancellor’s estate. He claimed that one of us was marked for greatness, a destined queen, while the other was a cursed soul, a harbinger of ill fortune. Mother, already biased towards Genevieve, and disappointed that I couldn’t excel at the lessons she arranged for me, quickly decided I was the cursed one. From that day forward, my life in the Chancellor’s estate became increasingly difficult. But I never believed I had done anything wrong, nor did I believe I was a curse. So, in my previous life, even as my face was marred and I was beaten to death by Mother, I never agreed to swap places with Genevieve. This time, as the blade hovered precariously close to my skin, I cried out, tears streaming down my face. “Mother, I was wrong! I’ll agree to swap places with my sister!” Mother finally moved the dagger away from my face. She glared at me, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. “Good. You’re finally being sensible.” She then swept out, taking her maids with her. She was no doubt eager to share the ‘good news’ with Genevieve. I, meanwhile, was left in the stifling darkness of the storeroom.

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The day she was found, the true daughter demanded to become CEO of the company. Considering her elementary school education and lack of experience, I refused. But she felt I was humiliating her, and turned to leave with her adoptive parents, vanishing without a trace. Under my leadership, the company soared, going public, and my adoptive parents became billionaires. On my thirtieth birthday, my husband and adoptive parents drugged me and sold me into an overseas compound. My adoptive parents and husband stood beside the facility’s manager, their faces twisted in malice. “This viperous woman is all yours.” I desperately demanded to know why they did this to me. My husband kicked me in the stomach, and my adoptive parents each slapped me across the face. “If you hadn’t been so vain, so greedy for our family’s wealth, refusing to give it up, Eva wouldn’t have been tricked and sold into that compound, tortured to death.” I couldn’t bear the torment and bit my tongue, bleeding out. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day the true daughter demanded to take over the company. … “Pathy, dear, since I’ve come home, could you please give the company back to me? I want to take on my rightful responsibilities.” Hearing those familiar words, my body stiffened. I glanced at the clock on the wall, and in that instant, I realized I had been reborn. Mrs. Thorne, tears welling in her eyes, embraced Eva and looked at me. “Audrey, it’s been so many years, and we’re so grateful for your hard work with the company. But Eva is our biological daughter. Please, draw up a contract later and transfer the company shares to her.” In my previous life, when I heard Eva and my adoptive mother’s words, I immediately refused them. I explained that the company was in the midst of going public, and a change in leadership at such a critical time would cause chaos. Moreover, Eva had only an elementary school education and no work experience; she understood nothing about the company. It wasn’t suitable for her to take over now. Instead, I suggested she could work as my secretary first, learn the ropes, and then assume control later. My adoptive parents agreed to my suggestion. But Eva instantly panicked. She claimed that being a secretary meant merely serving me, fetching tea and water like a slave, and that I was deliberately humiliating her. She turned and ran out, leaving with her adoptive parents, and I never heard from her again. Under my leadership, the company successfully went public, and the Thorne family became the richest in Star Harbor City. On my thirtieth birthday, my adoptive parents and my husband took me on a trip abroad. They drugged me, and when I woke up, I was in a predatory compound. My hands and feet were severed, and I was tied to a bed, left to be tormented and defiled by anyone. My adoptive parents and my husband, however, stood with the compound’s manager. I desperately demanded to know why. My adoptive parents each slapped me, and my husband kicked me in my three-month pregnant belly. “If you hadn’t been so vain, so greedy for the company, deliberately humiliating Eva, she wouldn’t have died! This is all what you owe Eva!” It turned out that after Eva left, she went to a foreign country looking for work, was tricked, and ended up in one of those compounds, where she suffered endless humiliation and eventually died. That’s why they hated me so deeply. In the end, unable to bear the endless degradation, I bit my tongue and bled to death. Recalling the torture I endured in my previous life, I clenched my fists, seething with anger. I looked at Eva with cold eyes, letting out a mocking laugh. “Back for just a day and already wanting the company, huh?” Eva’s eyes immediately reddened, and she started to cry. “Pathy, I just want to do something for the family. I knew I shouldn’t have come back. Please don’t be angry, Pathy. I’ll leave right now. I promise I won’t disturb your family anymore.” With that, Eva made a show of pushing Mrs. Thorne away, as if to leave. Mrs. Thorne immediately wrapped her arms around Eva, holding her tightly, her face filled with pain. “Eva, this is your home. You’re not the one who should leave.” The next second, Mrs. Thorne slapped me across the face, pointing at me and screaming abuses. “Audrey Bellwether! We kindly took you in and raised you, and now you want to steal our family’s property and force our biological daughter away? How utterly wicked can you be?” Mr. Thorne also looked at me, his face displeased. “Audrey, the company belongs to our family. Isn’t it only right for us to give it to our biological daughter? What right do you have to drive my daughter away?” I let out a bitter laugh. They had forgotten. It was Grandpa Thorne who adopted me. After Grandpa Thorne passed away, he entrusted the company to me. At that time, the company was on the brink of bankruptcy, more than a hundred million in debt. It was I who spent every day pleading with banks and investors, pouring all my energy into saving the company. For that, I developed chronic health issues. The Thorne parents, knowing they lacked the ability to manage the company, had washed their hands of it, simply dumping it on me. And yet, I still gave them fifty million a month, letting them indulge in their leisure. Moreover, most of the company shares were acquired by me. I only kept the Thorne name out of gratitude to Grandpa Thorne. How dare they have the audacity to demand the company back? I looked at Mr. Thorne, letting out a cold scoff. “Three years ago, when the company was on the verge of bankruptcy, you threw me to the ruthless creditors, telling them I was the company owner, telling them to demand their money from me. Now the company is about to go public, and you want to give it to your daughter? Where do you get the nerve to say such a thing?” Mr. Thorne’s face flushed crimson from my words. He balled his fist and swung at me. “You little bastard! We Thorness raised you! It’s your duty to manage the company for us! The company can only belong to my daughter! You’re just working for my daughter!” I swiftly grabbed Mr. Thorne’s arm, twisting it back. He cried out in pain. In the business world, there was no shortage of dirty tricks and dangerous ploys. For that, I had studied Tae Kwon Do for three years. Mr. Thorne, who knew nothing but living a life of leisure, was no match for me. Mrs. Thorne rushed forward, preparing to slap me again. I blocked her hand and shoved her to the ground. Mrs. Thorne pointed at me, her hand trembling with rage. “Audrey Bellwether, you heartless wretch! You actually laid hands on us? You’re utterly depraved!” Eva hurried forward, helping the Thorne parents up, then knelt before me. “Pathy, it’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have come back and disturbed your family! Please, don’t hit Mom and Dad anymore! I’ll leave right now and never appear before you again!” Mr. and Mrs. Thorne immediately embraced Eva, glaring at me with cold eyes. “Audrey, you’re the one who should get out!” I rolled my eyes at them, then looked at Eva. “In that case, I won’t disturb your family reunion. I’ll have a lawyer draft a disownment agreement.” With that, without waiting for their reaction, I turned and left the Thorne mansion. Three days later, I was in a company meeting when my assistant rushed in. “Ms. Bellwether, Mr. and Mrs. Thorne are downstairs with your sister, making a scene and demanding to see you.” I frowned slightly, then followed her downstairs. Mr. Thorne saw me and immediately confronted me. “Audrey, this is our family’s company! What right do you have to keep us out?” At his words, I let out a bitter laugh. “If you had bothered to visit the company more than a few times, the security guards wouldn’t have stopped you.” Mrs. Thorne walked up to me, her voice deeply earnest. “Audrey, considering your years of dedicated service to the company, you may continue to work here. However, the company’s owner can only be Eva.” Mr. Thorne shoved me aside, pulling Eva forward and pushing her into the center. “From today on, the company will be taken over by my biological daughter. Audrey will assist my daughter in managing the company.” Eva walked to my side. “Thank you for your hard work all these years, Sister Pathy. I will work with you to manage the company from now on.” I let out a dismissive scoff. “And you are… what exactly? Do you truly believe anyone can be the company’s owner just by wanting it? By the rules, the company owner must have absolute majority shares.” Mr. and Mrs. Thorne immediately began shouting. “You’re utterly depraved! We Thorness raised you, and now you want to seize our family’s assets and bully our daughter! How can a person like you be fit to be the company’s owner?” My fiancé, Julian Hayes, also stepped forward. “Audrey, the Thorne family has been kind to you. You can’t be so selfish. Just give the company back to Eva. After we get married, you can stay home, raise our family, and I’ll support you.” Hearing his words, I curled my lips. “Julian, your engagement is with the Thorne heiress. Now that Eva is back, she is your fiancée. You and I have no connection whatsoever. And who exactly are you, to point fingers at me? Do you even have the right?” Julian’s face instantly flushed crimson with anger. Eva suddenly knelt before me. “Pathy, dear, I truly didn’t mean to take Julian from you. I just want to reclaim what belongs to me.” Julian’s heart ached. He immediately pulled Eva into his embrace, then threatened me. “Audrey, you have such a wicked heart! So utterly ruthless just to seize the company! How can a person like you be fit to marry me? If you don’t return the company to Eva, we’ll cancel the engagement!” I was tired of their theatrics. “So, you just want the company, right? I can give it back to you, but I have two conditions.” Julian thought I had been frightened into submission, and he smiled with satisfaction. “As long as you give the company back to Eva, we’ll get married right away. Isn’t that what you wanted?” I suppressed the urge to strike him and looked at the Thorne parents. “First, sign the disownment agreement. From this day forward, I will have no connection to the Thorne family.” I continued, “The company shares I hold were acquired by me. So, if you want them, you’ll have to buy them at market price.” The Thorne parents’ faces fell. “This is our Thorne family company! And you want us to pay for shares?” I replied indifferently, “When the Thorne family company went bankrupt, you sold all your shares. The shares I hold now are mine, and they have nothing to do with you. You don’t have to buy them if you don’t want to. The company is about to go public. When that happens, the stock price will multiply several times. There will be plenty of people who want to acquire them.” The Thorne parents gritted their teeth, then huddled with Julian for a long time. Finally, they agreed to pay a billion dollars for my shares. After signing the disownment and share transfer agreements, Julian embraced Eva, looking at me with a mocking smirk. “Audrey, since you want to be so ruthless, then get out of this company right now. From now on, this is Eva’s company.” Eva looked at me provocatively, nestling into Julian’s embrace. “Sister Pathy, I heard the company is going to partner with the Remington Group, the richest family in the country! The stock price will increase tenfold, easily! Thank you, Sister Pathy, for giving me such a wonderful opportunity!” My adoptive parents also looked smug. “Audrey, this is all your own doing. Even if you regret it now, it’s useless. But, out of consideration for our past relationship, if you’re willing to be Eva’s secretary and help her manage the company, we can give you a salary of fifteen hundred a month. At least you won’t starve to death. How does that sound?” I scoffed. Fifteen hundred a month for me to work like a dog for them? They truly thought I was an idiot. “No, thank you. I will have no connection to this company or to any of you from now on.” With that, I turned to leave. Julian angrily called out, “Audrey, don’t come crying to us when you’re starving on the streets!” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Who gave them the confidence to think that with a billion dollars, I would ever starve and beg them for anything? After leaving the company, I called Aunt Victoria, CEO of the Remington Group. “Auntie, please cancel the Remington Group’s partnership with the Thorne family.” After getting her confirmation, I called the Thorne family’s remaining shareholders, telling them to dump all their shares. A massive sell-off would undoubtedly destabilize the Thorne company, causing its stock price to plummet. And this was just the beginning.

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My father was the most renowned chef in the surrounding towns and villages, his Succulent Roast Lamb legendary for its golden-crisp skin and melt-in-your-mouth tenderness, a dish everyone craved. Lady Meredith, the favored companion of Duke Alaric, heard tales of its exquisite taste. She summoned my father to Alaric Manor, specifically requesting his famous roast lamb. When they threw him out, his flesh was scorched and charred, a grotesque mockery of the dish he was known for. It turned out Lady Meredith had a sudden, cruel whim: she wanted a roast lamb that tasted of absolutely nothing like lamb. My mother, when she knew, didn’t shed a single tear. But three months later, she set up a large cauldron outside Alaric Manor and began selling lamb broth. 1 The second month after my father died, my mother took the last of our meager savings to Granny Willow’s small cottage in the quiet alleyway. Granny Willow was a peculiar woman, rumored to possess a knack for restoring a woman’s youthful radiance, making them appear as if untouched by time or trouble. Though they said the process was agonizingly painful; one young lady was said to have screamed all night, nearly losing her life. But Mother, when she returned, didn’t utter a single cry of pain. Only her face was a little pale. She called me to her side. “Alice,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “from now on, you must call me sister, not mother. Do you understand why?” I nodded. “I understand.” Mother smiled, praising my understanding. She took me to Kingsport, finding a dilapidated old townhouse to settle into. Then, on the grand thoroughfare in front of the formidable Alaric Manor, she set up her large cauldron and began selling lamb broth. 2 My mother learned her way with lamb from my father. He was the most celebrated chef in the entire county, and his masterpiece was his Succulent Roast Lamb. Though others roasted lamb, my father’s always had a flavor that sank deeper, a crispy skin and meat so tender it melted on the tongue, rich and aromatic without a trace of gaminess. Even those who swore they disliked lamb would find themselves taking bite after delicious bite, unable to stop. When my father cooked, my mother would quietly assist him in the back. Most tavern owners’ wives would be out front, greeting customers and drumming up business, but my mother never showed her face. I knew why: my mother was simply too beautiful, her beauty a magnet for trouble. And we were just common folk, without influence or protection in this world; we could only hope to avoid trouble, never confront it. My father’s only moment of public renown came when word of his unmatched roast lamb reached the Duke’s Estate. They invited him to cook for Duke Alaric. My father beamed, telling my mother, “The reward money for this will be substantial! I’ll buy you a few new gowns in Kingsport, and even have a pair of pure gold rabbit charms made for Alice’s dowry.” I adored little rabbits, so I immediately threw my arms around my father. “Rabbits! I want rabbits!” My father chuckled, scooping me onto his back and galloping around the house. My mother followed, laughing as she tried to stop him. “Careful now! Don’t drop the child!” Those days felt like a dream now. If only I had known, I wouldn’t have asked for the rabbits. I would have just asked for my father. … My father was thrown out of the back gate of Alaric Manor by the Duke’s servants. The busy street was filled with people coming and going, yet not a single soul dared to approach him. For he was already a charred husk, his skin black and peeling, blood and pus oozing from the raw, gaping wounds. Finally, a kind old neighbor, Silas, found him under the cover of night and brought him back on a simple cart. Silas wept as he cursed, “It was Lady Meredith! All her doing…” Meredith. What a lovely name. She was Duke Alaric’s newest favored companion, renowned as Kingsport’s most beautiful woman. When this beauty heard of my father’s skill with roast lamb, she asked him, “I hear you can roast lamb until it has not a hint of gaminess?” My father answered truthfully, “Lady Meredith can rest assured, the lamb will be perfectly savory, with no gaminess at all.” Meredith’s smile suddenly vanished. “Then can it taste of nothing like lamb?” she asked. My father offered a placating smile. “But if it is roast lamb, how can it taste of nothing like lamb?” Meredith gripped her lace handkerchief, her voice chillingly cold. “Who says it can’t? Today, I shall prepare a roast lamb with no taste of lamb at all, shall I?” She ordered her men to gag my father, tie him like a beast, and hoist him over the fire. Flames roared around him. Meredith covered her mouth with her handkerchief, a cruel laugh escaping her lips. “Isn’t this, then, a roast lamb with no taste of lamb at all?” Finally, she gazed at my father, his skin blistered and torn, her eyes filled with venomous malice. “I told him I would never be a mere mistress, and even the Duke agreed! What are you, a common peasant, to speak to me as if I’m some common tart?” 3 Lady Meredith detested being called a mistress. She was an orphan, without family, brought back by Alaric from the desolate Frostfangs battlefield. They had faced death together, exchanged their lives for each other, and their bond ran deep. But Alaric’s estate already had a Duchess, Eleanor, a wife he had taken at his parents’ command. Eleanor hailed from an ancient aristocratic lineage, and though Alaric held little affection for her, divorcing her was out of the question. Therefore, the only official title available to Meredith was that of a favored companion, a lesser status. But she refused to acknowledge it. “My Alaric and I faced death together on the Frostfangs, swearing to be one love, one life, with the snowy peaks as our witness! And now you want me to be a mistress? Never!” She preferred to remain by Alaric’s side without a formal title, telling him, “I care not what the world thinks of me, so long as you treat me as your only wife.” Alaric was both moved and guilt-ridden. Moved by Meredith’s ardent devotion, and ashamed that he had indeed concealed his marriage from her in the beginning. He could only treat her with even greater indulgence. If Meredith so much as hinted she craved fresh seafood, Alaric would immediately dispatch men on horseback, sending them hundreds of miles to the Verdant Shores to bring back the freshest fish and shrimp. If she suffered a headache or a chill, Alaric would cancel his court duties and remain by her side. As for her, in a fit of pique, publicly roasting an innocent commoner alive—to Alaric, though it caused him some annoyance, it wasn’t a truly grave matter. He merely sighed. “Very well. Meredith is so sensitive about her status, and that rustic fellow spoke out of turn. Since no one actually died, simply have the steward pay him a generous sum for his injuries.” … My mother listened to Silas’s relayed words. She said nothing, merely held a spoon, gently trying to offer my father water. He could no longer swallow. A casual word from a powerful man—”pay for his injuries”—could make it seem as if nothing had happened. But how could one heal a man with six or seven tenths of his skin blackened and festering? Several physicians had examined him, shaking their heads, declaring him beyond cure. He could only watch himself rot away, then die. In truth, my father should have passed sooner, but he held on to his last breath, for he had something to tell my mother. Struggling to open his mouth, my father used his final strength to whisper, “Lily, you must not… not…” “I know,” my mother murmured, tenderly holding his hand. “Don’t seek revenge. You needn’t worry, I would never put myself in such danger. That is Duke Alaric; even the King respects him. How many lives do I, a common woman, have to avenge you? I’ll just take Alice and live our lives well. You’ve saved enough money, anyway. I’ll close the shop, and Alice and I will go picnicking in spring, admire the lilies in summer, bake spiced apple tarts in autumn, and build snowmen in winter…” My father relaxed. He closed his eyes peacefully, a single tear escaping the corner. My mother wiped it away, so lightly, so gently, as if fearing she might hurt him. “Sleep well, my love. When you wake, I’ll still be your wife.” After speaking, Mother picked up the silver locket he’d given her when they first pledged their love. With eyes closed, she steadied her hand, aimed the locket at his charred throat, and plunged it in. … After my father’s funeral, I found a pair of tiny gold rabbit charms in his satchel. I clutched them tightly to my chest. My tears washed away the faint bloodstains on the little rabbits. I wiped my eyes and said, “Sister, I want to go to Kingsport.” My mother looked at the fluttering white paper money covering the ground, silent for a long moment, then softly said, “Of course. We must go to Kingsport.” 4 People said Kingsport was expensive, a hard place to make a living. But for my mother and me, it didn’t seem so difficult. My mother’s cooking skill was exceptional. Once her cauldron was set up, everyone would come, drawn by the intoxicating aroma. I was quick and nimble, helping at the stall, taking orders and handling money. “Here’s your lamb broth, sir! Come again if it pleases you!” The lamb broth was thick and milky white, garnished with fresh green chives, incredibly savory. Our business boomed. Until one day, just as I was handing over a bowl of soup, a sudden kick to my lower back sent me sprawling. “Alice!” my mother cried out. She tried to rush to me, but the large cauldron was immediately kicked over, sending Mother tumbling too. Half a pot of boiling hot lamb broth spilled onto her skirt. Standing before us were the Duke’s household guards. Behind a line of burly, barrel-chested men stood a beautiful woman in a delicate lemon-yellow gown. Lady Meredith frowned, her face a mask of displeasure. “Smash their stall!” “Yes, Lady Meredith!” As the guards moved forward, I rushed to protect the cauldron, screaming desperately, “Help! Help!” One guard reached for me, and I bit down hard on his hand. He howled in pain and raised his hand to strike me. In the midst of the chaos, a clear, cool voice cut through the air. “What is all this commotion?” The crowd, which had gathered at a distance, instinctively parted, making way for a tall, elegant man in a dark, flowing robe. He was not dressed lavishly, and he had only one attendant with him. Yet, as soon as the guards saw him, they immediately dropped to their knees. “Greetings, My Lord!” It was Duke Alaric, the King’s own uncle. He walked forward, his expression displeased. “In broad daylight, in the heart of Kingsport, you create a scene as if you mean to commit murder and arson. What kind of spectacle is this?” Lady Meredith immediately stepped forward, linking her arm through Alaric’s, her lip trembling piteously. “My dearest Alaric, you know I can’t bear the smell of lamb. I simply wanted to discuss with them if they could move their stall further away, but this little ruffian immediately bit my man! That’s why my men accidentally knocked over their cauldron…” The guard immediately held up his hand, which was bleeding profusely from my bite, confirming Meredith’s story. Alaric sighed. “Very well. Then have someone clear their stall away.” “Yes, My Lord!” Two guards immediately stepped forward to grab my mother. Mother struggled to rise but fell back, her skirt splaying, revealing a pair of calves scalded to a vivid crimson. As they tugged, her veil fell from her head, revealing her face. It is said that unadorned beauty, though simply dressed, cannot hide its splendor. For a moment, the two guards who were pulling her froze. Even Alaric himself paused, ever so slightly. And a beautiful woman with tears glistening in her eyes only became more exquisitely pitiful. My mother, suppressing her tears, slowly rose and curtsied to Alaric. “Forgive this humble servant, My Lord, for causing such a disturbance. I shall move my stall to a more distant location at once, and ensure I never appear before Your Grace again.” With that, my mother, leaning on my arm, painstakingly stood up and went to lift the heavy cauldron. Her legs were freshly scalded, and the cauldron was heavy. My mother swayed, looking incredibly fragile and pathetic. For a split second, I noticed Alaric instinctively reach out, as if to help her. But he quickly withdrew his hand. This scene did not escape Lady Meredith’s eyes. She stood behind Alaric, her gaze fixed on us, filled with bitter malice. 5 Mother and I moved to Westside, renting a small storefront for a temporary stay. It was a secluded spot, with few customers, and we barely earned a few coins each day. I went to the nearby hills to gather medicinal herbs, hoping to make a poultice for Mother’s burns to ease her pain. Mother kissed my forehead, but then tossed the herbs into the brazier. “Can’t apply them,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. I understood her meaning, but my eyes still welled up with tears. My father had always doted on Mother; if she even scraped a knee, he would make a fuss. Seeing her scalded like this, how heartbroken he would have been. But Mother looked at her injured leg and quietly said, “This is likely not even one-thousandth of the pain he suffered.” Mother’s words had barely faded when the sound of crashing pots, pans, and dishes erupted from the front room. I ran to the front and saw Lady Meredith. She had arrived with a dozen maids and servants. Those maids were overturning the tables and chairs we had so painstakingly acquired, and smashing our cooking utensils to the floor. “What are you doing! What are you doing!” I rushed forward, trying to stop them, but it was useless. Lady Meredith, leisurely cracking sunflower seeds, asked, “Where is that harlot who tried to ensnare the Duke?” My mother was dragged out from the back. Her injuries still unhealed, she could barely walk, her scalded legs scraping against the rough floor. Her skirt quickly became stained with blood. Meredith ordered her men to throw Mother to the ground, then she walked up, pinched my mother’s face with her sharp fingernails, and spat a sunflower seed shell onto her cheek. “You brazen harlot! You think I don’t see your pathetic attempts to charm the Duke with your innocent act? If I don’t teach you a lesson today, you’ll never give up your ambition to climb into his bed.” Two stout servants held my mother down, one on each side. Meredith pulled a sharp silver letter opener from her sleeve, ready to slash my mother’s face. “No!” I threw myself forward, shielding my mother with my body, crying out at the top of my lungs, “My Lady, please, I beg you! My sister has never done anything wrong! Please, if you must kill, kill me! Don’t kill my sister…” Meredith flew into a rage, and the silver letter opener plunged towards my body. A porcelain plate flew across the room, striking the letter opener. The plate shattered, and the letter opener flew from Meredith’s hand. She cried out, clutching her wrist. I was tightly shielded in my mother’s arms. When I looked up again, I saw a tall figure standing in the doorway. It was Alaric. In the faint light, his face was ashen with fury. 6 The shattered porcelain cut Meredith’s skin. She clutched her wrist, her eyes wide. “Alaric, you…!” Disbelief swiftly turned into a roaring inferno of anger. She pointed at my mother. “You actually struck me, for the sake of this low-born harlot? Why? Is it because she has a pretty face that appeals to men?” Meredith was beyond reason. She lunged forward, intent on tearing my mother’s face to shreds. Alaric strode forward, grabbing Meredith’s wrist. “How long will you carry on this childish tantrum?” he reprimanded in a low voice. “If I don’t stop you, you’ll cause a scandal that will rock the very foundations of Kingsport!” Their argument raged, fierce and bitter. By the end, Alaric was pale with anger, and he blurted out, “The women of Kingsport, put together, are not half as shrewish as you!” Meredith froze, stunned. Her eyes immediately turned crimson, and large tears began to fall. “Yes,” Meredith said with a bitter laugh. “No woman in the world is as shrewish as I am. But who else but me would have carried you, step by agonizing step, from the depths of the snow-covered Frostfangs when you were gravely wounded? Who else would have given her own blood as medicine to heal you? Who else would have been willing to die to protect you? Now it seems I should have died in the Frostfangs then. At least you would have remembered me forever, rather than leaving me to suffer such indignity for a common harlot!” Meredith glared viciously at my mother, then ripped the keepsake locket from her neck, flung it to the ground, and ran off. The maids and servants knelt in terror. The boldest among them picked up the keepsake locket and held it above their heads. “My Lord, Lady Meredith grew up in the harsh lands of the Frostfangs, unlike the refined ladies of Kingsport. But her devotion to you is truly unwavering. A maiden’s heart, once shattered, is so terribly difficult to mend.” “Indeed, My Lord,” another added. “Please, hurry and follow Lady Meredith! She knows no one in Kingsport; what if she encounters danger wandering alone?” Alaric picked up the locket. Then he turned, his gaze falling upon my mother. My mother knelt on the ground, her head bowed. From Alaric’s angle, he could only see the delicate curve of her pale, slender neck. She clearly felt his gaze, but she did not raise her head to meet his eyes. Alaric closed his eyes for a moment. In the end, he gripped the keepsake locket and went after Meredith.

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After my husband’s affair, I gave him and his mother a taste of their own medicine—They threw the first punch, after all. 1 In the two months before I discovered his infidelity, Mark, who never cared for grooming, began secretly spraying cologne. A woman’s innate intuition told me he might be having an affair. Just a week prior, he had come home utterly intoxicated. I watched him, insensible with drink, and quickly helped him to bed, then brewed him a sobering broth. It was then that his phone screen suddenly lit up. A message appeared on the display: [I’m pregnant, Mark! You’re going to be a father! Aren’t you happy?] I unlocked his phone. A torrent of explicit messages and brazen flirtations unfurled before my eyes. I couldn’t believe these words, exchanged with another woman, came from Mark—the husband who had shared my life, who supposedly cherished our child, our home, and me. My hands trembled as I held the phone, reading each piercing word. Tears streamed from my eyes, large drops splattering onto the screen. I clapped a hand over my mouth, terrified my sobs would awaken Mark. I couldn’t fathom that the husband who, to outsiders, appeared utterly devoted and loving, was in fact this kind of man. Finally, I understood why Mark, who had once adored me, had recently grown so critical, his eyes betraying faint disdain and disgust. He had, it seemed, already found a cherished paramour outside our home! I forcefully wiped away my tears, took a deep breath, and compelled myself to calm down quickly. Then, I pulled out my own phone, saving their chat logs, as well as the mistress’s personal information and address. Afterward, I placed Mark’s phone back where it belonged, pretending as if nothing had happened. The next morning, Mark, as usual, sprayed his cologne, preparing to leave for work. I stood by the doorway, holding our son, and asked him: “Will you be home for dinner tonight?” Mark lowered his head, continuing to put on his shoes. He remained silent for a moment. I pressed on: “Tonight’s our son’s birthday. Please come home for dinner!” Mark finally straightened up, merely grunting, “Hm,” without turning, and then left. I watched Mark’s retreating back, my heart turning to ice. That evening, the table was laden with an array of exquisite dishes. Mark sat at the table, holding our son, clapping and singing “Happy Birthday.” I raised the wine glass before me, observing this charade of a devoted father. Mark glanced at me, his face showing impatience, and urged me to begin the meal. “All you’re good for is cooking. And your looks are mediocre at best. Now, after childbirth, you’ve gotten fat and even uglier. You can’t even earn a penny. Tell me, what use are you?” Mark’s words stunned me so completely that I couldn’t react for a long moment. I couldn’t believe those words had come from his mouth. Every past memory, every tender moment, now felt like a performance. At this moment, I finally erupted! I slammed the glass onto the table, pointing at Mark’s nose. “Regretting it now? Did you feed your eyes to the dogs back then?” “Evelyn, please understand your place. Don’t bark orders at me, and certainly don’t point your finger! You’re no longer the pampered lady you once were! If it weren’t for me, you’d be out on the streets, scraping for scraps. This house? Only my word counts here! You do what I say. Otherwise, you can get out!” “Mark, have you forgotten something? This is my house! My parents bought this property for me! What right do you have to tell me to get out?!” “Yours? What do you mean ‘yours’?! Don’t forget, when your family went bankrupt, it was my money that bailed you out! Now you can’t pay it back, so the house is collateral! If it weren’t for you giving the Thorne family a healthy son, I’d have thrown you out long ago!” “You’re utterly shameless! What do you mean ‘your money’? That was my dowry from my parents! After we married, you clung to me like a leech, starving yourself for three days, subtly coercing me into entrusting the money to you! Now it’s ‘your’ money again? You want us to repay a debt, do you? No chance!” Mark’s words at that moment made me want to tear him apart. I had never imagined he could be this kind of person, completely unlike the Mark I once knew. The man before me was utterly despicable and cruel! Mark was about to continue arguing with me, but our son’s frightened cries interrupted him. I quickly snatched our son from his arms, soothing him as I turned and entered the nursery. Looking at my sleeping son in my arms, an idea suddenly sparked in my mind! I would divorce Mark, and I would repay all the hurt and pain he had inflicted on me tenfold, hundredfold, a thousandfold! I would make him suffer dearly! Every night, Mark habitually ate an apple before sleeping. So, under the pretense of slicing his apple, I also prepared a bowl of warm porridge. This was no ordinary porridge; it was a special blend I had concocted. Upon entering the master bedroom, I feigned an apology to Mark, humbling myself and flattering him in various ways. Under my coaxing, he finished the specially prepared porridge. After eating, Mark contentedly licked the corners of his lips, praising my cooking profusely, and asking me to prepare a separate bowl for him every morning. 2 And so, following Mark’s request, I prepared a bowl of my ‘special’ porridge for him every morning. However, beneath my outwardly amiable and gentle demeanor, my plan was unfolding. After Mark left for work, I took our son to my parents’ home. I recounted everything that had happened recently to my mother, Martha. Martha said nothing, but turned into the kitchen, retrieved a packet of fox nuts and water chestnuts, and handed them to me. She said: “Since he’s so fond of other women, you, as his wife, mustn’t be ignorant. It’s just a man; let her have him. Remember, when you go home, don’t argue with him. Just brew these fox nuts and water chestnuts into a broth for him. It will help him ‘strengthen his constitution.’” With that, Martha firmly patted my hand several times, deliberately emphasizing the words “strengthen his constitution.” I understood her subtle meaning and accepted the fox nuts and water chestnuts. After lunch, I left my son at my parents’ house and took a carriage alone to a Muay Thai training hall far from home. That’s right, I enrolled in Muay Thai. Like Mark, I also needed to ‘strengthen my constitution,’ just in a different way. Every day, I shuttled between my home, my parents’ house, and the Muay Thai hall. And I never forgot to prepare the fox nut and water chestnut broth for Mark every Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. One day, as I passed by the study, I heard Mark on the phone with his mother, Agnes. He was saying that his mistress was four months pregnant, and he wanted Agnes to come to the city to care for his future daughter-in-law. He also asked Agnes to hold onto the deed to the house for him. On the other end of the line, Agnes’s voice immediately rose several octaves upon hearing “house deed.” She happily agreed. I peered through the crack in the door, seeing Mark about to exit the study. I pretended to be just passing by. Mark saw me approaching and called out. “What is it?! Something wrong?” I asked. “My mother is coming to stay in the city for a while. You can go stay at your parents’ house then!” I looked at him with utter bewilderment. He must have thought I hadn’t understood, so he repeated himself. Before he could finish, I snapped at him loudly, “Why should I go back to my parents’ house? Your mother can come if she wants. Is she some blushing maiden who can’t be seen? This house is enormous, with so many rooms; isn’t that enough for just her? Does she need me to move out too? Is she an octopus, needing a room for each leg?!” I no longer spoke to him with my former meekness. “Oh, what way is that to speak?! I just thought you two wouldn’t get along, alright? What if I go to work and you two start fighting at home?!” “I’m not insane. As long as she doesn’t cause trouble, I won’t do anything to her!” Seeing that I was being difficult, Mark found himself with no recourse and had to let me have my way. Two days later, Agnes, Mark’s mother, arrived at our house, laden with heavy bags, looking travel-worn. The moment she stepped inside, she tried to assert her dominance. Agnes stood at the doorway, extending her dust-laden shoe, subtly indicating that I should bend down to remove it for her. I pointed to the slippers on the floor and said: “Mother-in-law, the slippers are right there. You can change into them yourself.” “I’m old, I can’t bend down.” “Old? Then why are you carrying such heavy bags all the way from the village?” Agnes was momentarily speechless, choked by my retort. I quickly added more fuel to the fire: “If you can’t even bend down to put on shoes, I wonder what Mark was thinking, asking you to come help with the child. I’ll have to speak with him later; he’s truly unfilial!” “Nonsense!” Agnes was flustered, quickly coming to her son’s defense. “Mark… Mark is not unfilial? Mark is the most filial and accomplished child in our village! My Mark, he is the most devoted to me! He promised to buy a grand house and bring me here to live, and hasn’t he done just that?!” The moment she mentioned the house, I immediately flared up. “Mother-in-law, please understand that this house was bought by my parents for me. Mark’s name was added as a mere formality. Under current law, Mark didn’t contribute a single penny; this house has absolutely nothing to do with him.” “How can it have nothing to do with him? What do you, a woman, know! What’s yours is my Mark’s! Husband and wife shouldn’t differentiate between ‘yours’ and ‘mine.’ Besides, what does a woman need so many houses for? In our village, a woman’s words don’t count for much. At home, everything must be decided by the man.” “Yes, Mother-in-law. Tomorrow, I’ll go to Elder Mr. Davies’s house in our village and tell him to marry you quickly! That way, you won’t feel like your words don’t count for much in the village anymore, and you’ll have a man at home to keep you in line.” I retaliated with biting sarcasm. Elder Mr. Davies was an old bachelor in Mark’s village. Ever since Mark’s father passed away, The two of them had often exchanged suggestive glances. Elder Mr. Davies would frequently come under the guise of bringing food to the “widow and orphan,” but secretly, he and Agnes had started an affair. When Mark found out, he chased Elder Mr. Davies for miles with a knife, intent on harming him. After that incident, Elder Mr. Davies never dared to associate with Agnes again. This was a piece of gossip I had overheard when I last returned to Mark’s village. Agnes, after hearing my words, seemed to recall something. She glared at me, and in an instant, her face turned crimson with embarrassment. 3 One day, when I returned from the Muay Thai training hall, I heard sounds of pleasure emanating from the bedroom. I tiptoed to the bedroom door, pressing the doorknob, and quietly opened the door a crack. Peering through the gap, I saw two naked bodies entwined. It was Mark and a woman with long, curly hair, both stark naked, engaged in unspeakable acts. Watching the two of them performing such lewd acts on the bed, I trembled with rage. Just as I was about to burst in and slap them both silly, I remembered my mother’s recent advice: always have evidence. With irrefutable proof, he wouldn’t be able to deny it! I suppressed my disgust, pulled out my phone, and began recording the shameless pair, securing my evidence. Just then, the woman on the bed suddenly asked in a sickeningly sweet voice: “Darling, what’s wrong now? Why are you not performing? You used to last at least half an hour, and now you can’t even make it twenty minutes! Tell me, are you seeing other women while I’m not looking?” “Oh, my little darling, how could I dare mess around behind your back! You’re pregnant now, aren’t you? We have to be careful for the baby’s sake!” “Hmph! Even if I gave you ten times the courage, you wouldn’t dare mess around behind my back! And, have you found that woman’s house deed? You promised me that after I joined you, you’d move me into a house even bigger than this one. Don’t tell me that when the baby’s born, we’ll not only lack a big house, but you’ll make my child and me sleep on the streets!” “Don’t you worry! My little darling, tomorrow I’ll make my mother force her to hand over the house deed. I refuse to believe I can’t handle that old hag!” Hearing Mark and his mistress’s conversation, I finally fully understood that for all these years, he had married me solely for my family’s fortune. Now that my family was bankrupt, he was setting his sights on this house. This house was bought by my parents for me when Mark and I got engaged. At the time, it cost over 400,000 Crowns. Its location was excellent, and if sold now, it would be worth at least 800,000 Crowns. I closed the door, then turned and rushed straight to the attic, where I found the house deed. Mark would never in a million years guess I’d put the deed in the attic. Before the wedding, my mother had warned me to be clever in all things, saying Mark was no easy man to deal with. At the time, I foolishly believed Mark loved me, and that once married, there would be no secrets between us. But fortune is fickle, and I was too naive back then. I never imagined Mark would cheat. Ever since I found out about his infidelity, I became more cautious and secretly hid the house deed in the attic. I took the house deed back to my parents’ home and gave it to my mother, Martha, who hid it in the most secure place in our house. Three days later, I was hanging clothes on the balcony. Agnes, Mark’s mother, approached me with a fawning expression, calling, “Daughter-in-law, daughter-in-law.” I glanced at her, asking coldly, “What is it? Why so affectionate? Our relationship isn’t usually this warm, is it?” “Oh, look at you! We’re family now, what’s all this about good or bad relationships?” “Do you need something?” Agnes pretended to smooth a sheet I had just hung, then said, “Oh, your mother-in-law doesn’t have much to say, just wanted to ask you, you’ve been married to my son for so long, who manages the money?” “Why do you ask?” “No reason, Mother-in-law was just asking. I was chatting with the ladies in the neighborhood, and they said women in the city manage the money, don’t they? So you manage Mark’s money too?” “Not at all. I’m not as fortunate as them. I can’t manage your son’s meager funds.” Hearing this, Agnes’s face grew even more smug. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said: “Actually, your mother-in-law has wanted to say this for a long time. It seems you have some self-awareness. I also think you’re unlucky. Your family went bankrupt just a few years after you married. Your parents should have had a son back then, why a daughter? She’ll just be a money-losing commodity when she marries! Look how lucky my son is! He’s a general manager at a young age, and lives in such a grand house!” “Your son is lucky, but whether he can afford such a grand house depends entirely on the blessing of this ‘money-losing commodity’! Otherwise, for a country boy like him, he’d work his whole life and never afford such a grand house!” “You…” Agnes, furious, was about to retort, when she suddenly remembered something and instantly changed her demeanor. “Yes, yes, Evelyn, you’re right. My Mark owes all his success today to your blessing. If it weren’t for you, my Mark wouldn’t even have a wife by now.” “Mother-in-law, just say what you want directly! No need for all these twists and turns, beating around the bush.” “Then your mother-in-law will be direct, alright? It’s about the house deed, you have it, don’t you?” “Yes, I do! What about it?” “It’s nothing much, just that I see you work hard with the child. Such a valuable thing as a house deed should be entrusted to your mother-in-law for safekeeping!” “What? Did I hear that right! Mother-in-law! Why should I entrust the house deed to you! You didn’t pay for the house, and besides, wouldn’t it be safer somewhere else than in your hands?!” “Hmph, what way is that to speak, girl! You’re refusing a toast and asking for a penalty, are you? Since you married into our family, you must obey your in-laws, obey your man! Your man is your sky! And you dare not defy the sky, or you will be struck by lightning!” “Oh, so I married into your family to suffer tribulation, did I? And be struck by lightning? If your son is so powerful, tell him to try and strike me down!” Agnes’s face turned beet red with rage. She grabbed the clothes hanger, intending to strike me, muttering furiously, “You little wretch, are you rebelling now? If you upset me, tomorrow I’ll tell Mark to divorce you!” “Divorce then! Divorce! If we divorce, this house won’t have a single penny to do with him! Go ahead and hit me. After you’re done, I’ll immediately get a medical report and call the Royal Bailiff to have you arrested, and you can rot in jail for life!” Agnes flinched when she heard me threaten to call the authorities. She immediately stopped her movements. She certainly didn’t want to end up in the jailhouse just for trying to get a house deed. She quickly forced a yellow-toothed smile and said, “Mother-in-law was just scaring you, dear. How could I ever hit you! Look how precious you city girls are, a mere scare and you want to send your mother-in-law to jail! If people in our village found out, wouldn’t they laugh at the wife our old Thorne family married?!” “Good that you know. This is a lawful society now, not your village where you can just hit people as you please. Hitting someone will cost you money and a jail sentence!” I glared at Agnes, snatched the clothes hanger, and turned to leave. 4 That evening, Mark called to say he wouldn’t be back for dinner; he was meeting with a client. I simply said, “Oh,” and hung up. After dinner, I received a call from Lady Eleanor, inviting me to a tavern. I left my son with Agnes, changed my clothes, and went out. Upon arriving at the tavern, I spotted a man whose back resembled Mark’s. I quietly approached and, indeed, it was him! He stood near the entrance, chatting merrily with a few other men. I trailed them. After watching them enter a private room, I discreetly noted the room number. Half an hour later, estimating the time, I found an excuse to tell Lady Eleanor I needed to step out for a moment. When I reached Mark’s private room, I pushed open a crack in the door, observing the suggestive atmosphere inside. A woman was wrapped around Mark’s neck, sitting on his lap, her hands roving over his body. In a short while, the woman and Mark were openly engaged in intimate acts in front of everyone. Seeing this, the others in the room also followed suit. I pulled out my phone and recorded the entire scene. “Hello! Is this the Royal Bailiff? I want to report a public disturbance at The Golden Bell Tavern, room number 111. There’s an illicit gathering in progress.” I hid in the darkest corner of the stairwell, watching as the Royal Bailiff burst into the room and took Mark and the others away. I handed a tip to a tavern servant, asking him to call the mistress and inform her to collect him from the precinct.

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My husband’s long-lost love was finally getting married. To make her regret leaving him, he abandoned Blackwood Manor and me, volunteering to serve in the desolate Frostbourne Marches. I wrote ninety-nine letters, each sent with a flicker of hope, but not a single reply ever came. By the third year, I had stopped writing. I was on my daybed, elegantly sipping the rich, restorative swallow’s nest soup sent from the royal kitchens, when the door creaked open. Then, suddenly, General Godfrey returned. His gaze, cold and hard as flint, landed on my six-month pregnant belly. His teeth clenched, the sound almost audible. “Three years of marriage, Evelyn, and you never once thought to visit me at the border. Whose child is that you’re carrying?” I merely shrugged, a faint, almost dismissive smile playing on my lips. “If you refuse to treat your wife with proper regard, Godfrey, then surely someone else will step up to the task, won’t they?” … Godfrey’s hand shot out, a blur of motion, yanking me roughly from the daybed. His eyes, usually a steely blue, were now hawk-like, brimming with a chilling, murderous intent. “You harlot! I leave for a mere three years, and you can’t even contain your wanton desires? You dared to get yourself pregnant!” His voice rose to a furious roar. “Tell me now, who is the scoundrel? The father of this bastard child?!” The delicate porcelain bowl of swallow’s nest soup slipped from my trembling fingers, shattering on the polished stone floor with a sharp, sickening crack. Just then, Lady Beatrice, Godfrey’s mother, rushed into the room, her eyes widening in horror at the sight of Godfrey’s iron grip on my arm. “Godfrey, stop! Don’t touch her! She’s carrying…” Her words were cut short by Godfrey’s enraged bellow, echoing through the manor. “Evelyn! I’m asking you a question!” My eardrums throbbed with the sheer volume, and a slow, simmering rage began to boil within me. I yanked my arm free, my voice tight with indignation. “You abandoned me for three whole years, Godfrey! You left me with a crumbling estate, bleeding money, and vanished without a trace! According to the old statutes of abandonment, a husband who forsakes his home for a year without cause allows for annulment. You and I are no longer bound as husband and wife!” Godfrey’s face flushed a mottled crimson, his anger a visible, suffocating cloud around him. Without another word, he seized my arm again, dragging me relentlessly towards the door. “You dare to lie, you adulteress? You dare to accuse me after defiling my name? I’ll drag you into the streets right now and let the good people of Aethelburg see what kind of depraved woman you truly are!” Weakened by my pregnancy, I was no match for his strength. I struggled, but it was futile. Lady Beatrice, her eyes welling with tears, rushed forward, trying to block our path. “Son, please, listen to your mother! Let go of Evelyn, immediately…” But her plea only seemed to fuel Godfrey’s fury. He roared, his hand lashing out in a brutal, open-handed slap across my face. My head snapped back, a sharp sting exploding across my cheek, and the coppery taste of blood instantly filled my mouth. His voice, thick with menace, thundered in my ears. “You’d even corrupt my own mother? Force her to defend your debauchery in her old age? Today, I will personally deal with you, you wretched creature!” Lady Beatrice froze, her body rigid with terror, not daring to take another step. She feared that her continued intervention would only incite Godfrey to greater violence, and if the child were harmed, how would she ever forgive herself, or him? I was dragged, raw and bleeding, to the grand gates of Blackwood Manor. There, standing poised and pristine in a gown of pure white, was the woman Godfrey had pined for: Aveline. Three years ago, when Godfrey had left, she too had vanished without a trace. Now, it was chillingly clear where she had been – playing the devoted wife at the border. Seeing my humiliated state, Aveline couldn’t suppress a mocking snicker, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. “Well, isn’t this convenient? You’ve proven yourself so utterly depraved, Evelyn. It seems I won’t have to lift a finger to make my case.” Before I could utter a single word, Godfrey shoved me forward, directly into the gawking crowd of townspeople. He bellowed, his voice carrying far and wide, “Evelyn! I acknowledge you guarded this manor for three years. So, I’ll offer you a choice: humble yourself, become a mistress, and yield your place as Lady of Blackwood Manor to Aveline. I will grant you a corner to live out your days!” His eyes gleamed with a chilling satisfaction. “Otherwise…” Godfrey sneered, a cold, ruthless smile stretching his lips, and drew the heavy, battle-scarred sword from his scabbard. “Otherwise, I will cut down this harlot right here, right now!” His words struck me with a bitter, hollow irony. I remembered his parting promise, three years ago – that upon his return, with military honors, he would help my mother secure justice. That promise, a flimsy thread of hope, was why I had endured the snickers and whispers of Aethelburg, why I had poured my entire dowry into propping up Blackwood Manor. Yet, my mother had wasted away, tormented by my father’s mistress, and he had never returned. No wonder he hadn’t immediately executed me in the house; he feared public backlash. He wanted me to yield my position myself. The servants and townspeople buzzed with gossip. “I knew it! The General hasn’t been home in years, how could the Lady be with child?” “And Lady Beatrice has been caring for her so diligently, I almost thought—” “Enough!” Lady Beatrice, unable to bear it any longer, suddenly burst through the crowd. She rushed to my side, supporting me, her brow furrowed in a fierce scowl directed at Aveline. “I know whose child Evelyn carries, better than anyone! And this child is no bastard!” Godfrey looked at his mother, baffled. “Mother, this harlot never sought me out at the border! How could it possibly be my child?” Lady Beatrice stood firm, her voice ringing with conviction. “This child is legitimate! Anyone who dares to utter another word will face the stocks!” Aveline clutched Godfrey’s sleeve, her voice trembling with feigned sobs. “Oh, Godfrey, surely your mother has been deceived! What mother would condone her daughter-in-law’s infidelity? I heard whispers of certain potions, substances that control minds… Lady Beatrice’s face looks so much paler than before. Could it be…?” Godfrey’s hands clenched into fists, his rage suddenly redirected. He spun, pulling his sword again. “Evelyn, you seek death!” I retorted, my voice hoarse, “Lady Beatrice is frail and pale, Godfrey, because of you! How could you not know the anguish your own mother suffered, son, when you vanished for three years without a single word?” Godfrey was about to speak, when Aveline suddenly shoved me with surprising force. “You venomous hag! How dare you slander Godfrey, your own husband?!” A searing pain exploded at the back of my head. My vision instantly blurred, swimming with black spots. The heavy iron door-studs of the manor gate gouged a deep wound into my scalp, leaving a dark, rapidly spreading stain of blood on the stone. My strength evaporated, and I collapsed to the ground, a sharp, twisting pain erupting in my lower abdomen. Lady Beatrice let out a piercing shriek. “Call for the Royal Physician, quickly!” Several maids and retainers moved to obey, but Godfrey’s guards immediately blocked their path. Seeing this, Lady Beatrice bellowed, “Are you truly defying your own mother’s command now, Godfrey?!” Aveline sneered, utterly merciless. “The Royal Physician attends only to the nobility within the palace walls! Do you truly believe a harlot like this could ever command such a presence?” Godfrey’s voice was low and dangerous. “Guards! Protect my mother! Do not let her be swayed by this villainess’s deceit!” At his words, a burly soldier, easily eight feet tall, seized Lady Beatrice. She stared at him, incredulous. “I am your mother!” She struggled, twisting against his grip, but the soldier simply twisted her arm, forcing it back. Lady Beatrice cried out in agony, but Godfrey remained unmoved, his face a mask of cold indifference. “Godfrey, have you gone mad?!” I cried out, struggling to push myself up, my hands protectively cupped over my belly. “If you don’t want to die, then release us immediately! This child… this child is not one you can afford to harm!” Godfrey said nothing. He simply drew a long, vicious-looking whip from his belt. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he brought it down, the air whistling with the brutal force of it. A searing, fiery pain exploded across my knees. I crashed heavily to the ground, the raw wounds on my knees instantly grinding into the dirty cobblestones, the pain biting deep into my very bones. Godfrey’s voice rang out, clear and resonant. “Such a wanton woman in Blackwood Manor! I, Godfrey, must impose the strictest family law!” He smirked, his eyes devoid of mercy. “Evelyn, don’t say I didn’t give you a chance. If you refuse to cast out this bastard, then I will do it myself!” I ignored the fresh blood soaking my knees, my only thought to protect my child. “What are you doing…?” Godfrey advanced, step by deliberate step. “The whip, of course! A hundred lashes for your infidelity, for your poisoning of my mother’s mind! Today, I will make an example of you before everyone!” My breath hitched in my throat. My eyes instinctively darted to the brutal length of the whip in his hand. That whip had ridden with Godfrey into countless battles; it was stained with the blood of countless enemies. A single strike could mean my death. What then of the child within me? Amidst the jeers and calls for punishment from the crowd, Godfrey raised the whip again. It descended with terrifying speed. I could only curl inward, protecting my belly with my arms, squeezing my eyes shut. The pain, however, never came. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes. A Shadow Guard stood directly in front of me, his hand clamped firmly around the whip, halting its deadly descent. “General,” the Shadow Guard said, his voice calm, “Lady Evelyn is in a delicate state. You cannot harm her. I urge you to reconsider.” It was the first time anyone had dared to defy Godfrey, to intercept his wrath. His eyes narrowed, sizing up the guard. “Who are you? What business is it of yours to interfere with how I discipline my wife?” The Shadow Guard remained unyielding. “If the General wishes to know the full truth, he must first move this conversation elsewhere—” The next second, Godfrey sneered, yanking his whip free and lashing out at the Shadow Guard. “I’d like to see who dares to covet what belongs to my General!” The Shadow Guard reacted too slowly. The whip tore across half his face, ripping skin and flesh apart. He crumpled to the ground, unmoving. The more timid onlookers shrieked in unison. Lady Beatrice, witnessing the brutality, fainted dead away and was immediately carried off, placed under strict supervision. There was truly no one left to save me. My face went ashen, drained of all color. Godfrey, meanwhile, had murder in his eyes. “Evelyn, I thought you’d ensnared some powerful figure, but it’s only a pathetic, disgraced guard who dares to tempt you into betraying me?” At this point, I no longer cared for appearances or consequences. “This child is… is—” My words were swallowed by a blinding flash of pain as the whip, whistling through the air, struck my abdomen.

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After I was brutally murdered by the Queen Consort, I found myself unexpectedly reborn into the body of another woman. To my astonishment, this person was intersex! Without hesitation, I pinned the haughty Queen Consort Charlotte Beaumont firmly beneath me. “You’re so desperate to conceive, aren’t you? Perhaps I can help you with that?” Watching the disheveled yet powerless Queen Consort struggle beneath me, I felt a surge of unadulterated pleasure. But that wasn’t all. My gaze soon turned to King Lysander, rumored to have a fondness for men. Leaning close, I pinched Charlotte’s chin and laid out my demand: “Queen Consort, take me to the palace. Bring me before His Majesty.” … In my previous life, I was but a lowly scullery maid, assigned to the chambers of Queen Consort Charlotte. She was a woman of narrow mind and volatile temperament, treating human lives as less than nothing. Merely because I was cracking walnuts by her side when she heard news of another consort’s pregnancy, she had me beaten to death with a staff on a baseless charge. The hatred that surged through me was visceral; my very organs twisted in agony as I bled out, unwilling to accept my fate. Yet, when I opened my eyes again, I found myself in a pitch-black, suffocating room. The air was damp and foul, thick with the stench of decay. I coughed violently, then turned to a dusty, tarnished bronze mirror in the corner, where I saw a face strikingly similar to Charlotte’s! Sensual eyes, a pert nose, delicate lips… a naturally intoxicating charm, indeed. It was six or seven parts Charlotte, but a tear mole beneath my left eye added a touch of alluring mystery that even she lacked. As I inhabited this new body, a flood of memories cascared into my mind. Once they settled, I understood: this body belonged to the true Lady Beaumont. However, due to a peculiar birth defect—being born intersex—the Beaumont family, desperate to preserve their reputation, had adopted Charlotte, who bore a close resemblance to me, to masquerade as their daughter. Under the family’s tutelage, Charlotte had blossomed into a remarkable young woman, while I, the true blood heir, was slowly forgotten, left to languish and rot in this desolate annex. But as Charlotte’s position solidified, she grew increasingly arrogant and cruel. To fuel her vanity, she would often visit me, her tone condescending, delighting in my misery. Even worse, she secretly orchestrated insidious attacks against me, using her loyal retainers. To be absolutely certain I wouldn’t pose a threat, she even drugged me, hoping to render me simple-minded and imbecilic. Recalling this, a fierce resolve hardened within me. Typical of the venomous Queen Consort; just as cruel in the family mansion as she was in the palace. My thoughts spun, and my hand instinctively reached down, confirming the presence of anatomy that shouldn’t be there. So, this was what being intersex truly meant! Appearing outwardly female, yet possessing both male and female reproductive capabilities! It was little wonder the Beaumonts had kept Celeste, the body I now inhabited, confined to such a damp, gloomy room. But at this thought, a sudden, mirthless laugh escaped me. Perhaps the world would deem an intersex person a monster, but to me, it was an unprecedented advantage. Rumors whispered that before his ascension, the King was a notorious rake, known for frequenting dens of illicit pleasures catering to peculiar tastes. They said he was infatuated with men, only taking concubines after becoming King to ensure an heir. Whether these rumors held any truth, I, having already died once, cared little. My only desire was revenge, no matter the cost. A grand plan for vengeance began to form in my mind! At that moment, I heard footsteps outside and a familiar, arrogant voice, laced with mockery: “Let’s see if my unsightly sister is still breathing.” As light streamed in from the doorway, I saw her, exactly as she was in my past life’s memories: the dazzling Queen Consort Charlotte Beaumont. She held a perfumed handkerchief to her nose, her face contorted in disgust. “Are you living and relieving yourself in this room now? You reek!” I stared at her, unwavering, and then a slow smile spread across my face. My voice, unused for so long, came out raspy and unpleasant: “Sister Charlotte, come closer. Come closer, I have a secret to tell you.” She fixed her gaze on me, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What secret could you possibly have? I already know your biggest one.” I merely smiled wider. “But don’t you want to know why you haven’t conceived a child after all this time? I have a method that can help you.” Conception was Charlotte’s greatest anxiety in my past life. Predictably, the moment I uttered those words, Charlotte’s interest was piqued. She dismissed the maids who had accompanied her. “You all may withdraw. Lady Celeste and I have a few private matters to discuss.” Then, alone, she stepped into my squalid little room. “What method? Tell me quickly… Ah!” Charlotte demanded impatiently, but her last word was abruptly cut short. Catching her off guard, I lunged, seizing her wrists and binding her hands and feet. Just as I’d anticipated, this body possessed the strength of a young man. Charlotte’s eyes widened in terror. “What are you doing?!” I gave a menacing chuckle, then, in the most innocent tone, I whispered, “Sister Charlotte, you want to be with child, don’t you? I can get you pregnant. Have you forgotten… I also possess that?” Charlotte’s composure completely shattered. Fear and terror erased all traces of her usual grace. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Ah! Help! Someone… Mmph! Don’t… Help!” But no matter how she cried out, I clamped my hand over her mouth, my eyes burning with pure hatred. “Scream all you want, dear sister. I have nothing to lose, so I’m not afraid of you who has everything! At worst, we both go down together.” If fate had granted me this rebirth, I swore I would exact every ounce of revenge for myself and for the real Celeste—all the bitterness, all the humiliation. I would make her suffer beyond measure. With that thought, I put my full strength into it, and the sudden sound of tearing fabric ripped through the stale air. Charlotte seemed to guess my intention; her face went ashen, and she shrieked, “Get away! Get away… Ah!” I paid no heed, consumed by a furious resolve. Listening to her heart-wrenching screams, I felt nothing but grim satisfaction. In my previous life, when I was executed, I had pleaded and begged her, but she had turned a deaf ear, ordering me gagged and kicking me aside. Now, I was simply repaying the debt. I would not relent. I tormented Charlotte for a long, long time. So long that she wept and begged for mercy, so long that her tears ran dry, so long that the proud light vanished from her eyes. I had truly ground her into the dirt, watching the once haughty Queen Consort descend into a state of disheveled, dazed despair. In that moment, I understood the profound sense of dominance a man felt over a woman; now, I was dominating Charlotte. Leaning close, I pinched her face and issued my demand: “Charlotte Beaumont, take me to the palace. Bring me before the King.” I couldn’t simply let her go. I had to enter the palace. I wanted to be in her presence every single day; a simple act of revenge wouldn’t be enough to quell the hatred of both myself and the true Celeste. Charlotte’s eyes were unfocused, yet at the mention of “the King,” she instinctively looked at me. “No, impossible! I will never let a freak like you appear before His Majesty! You’re unworthy! You’re a monster!” Her true nature, unchanged. I narrowed my eyes, observing her reaction. It seems her affection for the King is indeed profound. All the more reason for me to enter the palace. Her threats and insults meant nothing to me. I grabbed her hair. Every extra word she uttered was met with a stronger tug on her scalp. “If you don’t bring me to the palace, I will tell the whole world what we did today! I’ll tell them how you begged and cried. And don’t think of killing me to silence me. Even if the Beaumonts abandoned me, they won’t simply ignore my death.” At my words, Charlotte’s face contorted in fear. She dissolved into tears, cursing me: “You maniac! You’ll rot in hell!” I thought she was a pot calling the kettle black. “Charlotte Beaumont, have you forgotten your past cruelties against me? Who was it that scorned my body from childhood, calling me a monster, driving me to self-loathing and despair? Who drugged me to make me simple-minded, and encouraged our parents to lock me away in this dark room? Wasn’t it all you? Have you not wronged me enough?” I flung these accusations at her, relentless. Charlotte recoiled, trembling, unable to utter a single word, merely staring at me with wide, terrified eyes. Seeing her disheveled and bruised, I finally felt a measure of vindication. “Take me to the palace, or we will both be destroyed. You choose.” In the royal carriage on the way back to the palace, Charlotte huddled beside me, trembling, softly pleading. “I’ve agreed to take you back to the palace. You mustn’t betray me and speak of those… unpleasant things. Please, I beg you.” My expression remained impassive. “Depends on your performance.” One sentence silenced Charlotte completely. Upon entering the palace, I smoothly met King Lysander in her chambers. The moment our eyes met, his were filled with a mixture of awe and delight. “Queen Consort, who is this? How can someone rival your breathtaking beauty?” I feigned a gentle, demure demeanor and lied that I was her distant cousin. All the while, King Lysander’s gaze remained fixed on me, completely disregarding Charlotte. Soon, Charlotte sensed the shift in attention and secretly warned me to behave. But I paid her no mind, immediately setting about charming King Lysander. “Your Majesty, perhaps you would grace the Clouded Pavilion tonight? Your humble servant promises you a delightful surprise.” Upon hearing this, King Lysander’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. That evening, I donned the most exquisitely crafted gown from Charlotte’s chambers and made my way to the Clouded Pavilion. Before long, a slightly tipsy King Lysander arrived. The moment he saw me, he wrapped his arms around my waist without a word, pulling me close. I leaned into him, feigning a gentle resistance. “Your Majesty, will you stay here tonight?” His kiss, smelling faintly of wine, descended upon me. His low voice rumbled, “My darling Celeste, since I’ve come tonight, I have no intention of leaving. But… where is this surprise you promised?” His tone was laced with seductive suggestion, and I, in turn, fixed him with an even more alluring gaze. “That, Your Majesty, you must uncover yourself in my chambers. Otherwise, where would the surprise be?” No sooner had the words left my lips than King Lysander swept me into his arms. He carried me swiftly to the bed, his movements eager. In the dim lamplight, I revealed myself completely, holding nothing back. When King Lysander saw what lay before him, his hands visibly trembled. “You… you are a man?” I smiled, pinching his chin playfully, and teased, “Your Majesty, you didn’t look closely enough. Take another look. I am, of course, a woman. But I can also be a man.” King Lysander’s eyes widened in disbelief, his gaze fixed on my unique anatomy. Soon, he visibly swallowed, his eyes now holding a hint of longing and even envy. I smiled, knowing the fish had taken the bait. It seemed the whispers about the King’s preference for men were indeed true. So I leaned close to his ear, whispering softly to provoke him: “Does Your Majesty approve?” His eager movements and a torrent of kisses were his only reply. That night, the bed curtains swayed gently, and the red candles flickered in the dancing shadows. But by the latter half of the night, his stamina clearly waned, bringing an end to the night’s debauchery. As I was about to close my eyes for sleep, I suddenly heard him lean in close, his voice a low, panting whisper: “Celeste, would you… would you like to be on top?” The air stilled for a moment. Hearing his words, my eyes snapped open, fixed unblinkingly on him. On the surface, he was asking if I wanted to take the dominant position, but implicitly, it revealed King Lysander’s desire to be the submissive one. He actually wanted to be the one beneath? My heart jolted with shock, yet I maintained a calm facade. “Does Your Majesty wish for it?” I countered.

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I couldn’t snag a train ticket home for the long Thanksgiving weekend, so I ended up booking a spot on a budget tour group. Desperate times, I guess. The tour guide, deliberately, ripped my tank top strap, then tried to strong-arm me into buying some ridiculously overpriced, ‘designer’ lingerie – almost three thousand dollars – threatening to leave me stranded if I refused. A mob of burly men surrounded me, closing in. I took one look, and a grin split my face. “Uncle Frank, Uncle Bob, Uncle Jim, Cousin Mark!” I chirped. “You guys came to pick me up?” The guide’s triumphant cackle choked in her throat. 1. The holiday travel rush was insane; getting a ticket home was a nightmare. So, I settled for the only option left: a tour group heading to a destination less than a mile from my own doorstep. It was basically a very expensive, very roundabout taxi. Departure was set for 4:30 PM. I arrived at the bus terminal at 4:20 PM, only to find the tour agency’s coach had already pulled out. My jaw dropped. I immediately called the agency owner, who, to his credit, ordered the bus to turn back right away. I stood there, fuming, for a full twenty minutes before the bus finally reappeared. The driver, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, was profusely apologetic. “I’m so sorry, miss! The guide told me everyone was accounted for, so I just drove off.” He seemed genuinely sorry, but the guide – Amber, I’d soon learn – stood blocking the entrance to the bus, her face a thundercloud. There wasn’t a hint of apology in her expression, even after seeing me, the passenger she’d left behind. She just rolled her eyes and marched back to her seat. She looked younger than me, her face artfully made up, but her gaze was cold, her tone sharp. “What are you staring at, old hag?” If I hadn’t been so utterly desperate for a ride home, I would never have chosen a tour bus during peak holiday season. But given my predicament, I decided to bite my tongue and endure. For now. I scanned the bus interior. Every single seat was taken. No spot for me. I forced patience into my voice. “Excuse me, where exactly is my seat?” Amber was engrossed in her phone, not even bothering to look up. A spark of annoyance flickered within me. I asked again. Amber slammed her phone down, then shoved me hard. “What’s there to ask? Everyone else showed up before four! You came so late, who knew if you were even coming? There’s no seat for you. Stand.” I burst out laughing, a furious, incredulous sound, and shoved her right back. “First, the confirmed departure time was 4:30, and I arrived at 4:20 – early. Second, you didn’t even do a headcount before telling the driver everyone was here; that’s your job, and you failed. What’s more, I asked you several times about my seat, and you ignored me, then put your hands on me. Looking for a fight, are we?” I leaned in closer. “And finally, a tour group has a fixed number of people. There has to be a vacant seat. If you can’t find one for me, then you can stand for the next five hours.” Five hours on a bus without a seat, after paying good money? Not a chance. Perhaps sensing I wasn’t a pushover, Amber glared at me, her eyes spitting venom. “You were late, so no seat. If you don’t want to go, take your refund and get lost.” I sneered. “Are you the boss? Did you decide 4:20 is ‘late’?” Just then, my phone buzzed. It was the owner calling. I answered, put him on speaker, and didn’t mince words. “Hey, sis,” I said, making sure Amber could hear every syllable, “the guide here says I was late and there’s no seat for me, so she’s telling me to ‘get lost.’” Amber’s eyes widened in panic. She lunged, snatching my phone and frantically pressing ‘end call.’ The very next second, her phone rang. It was the owner calling her. She got an earful, a blistering tirade that turned her face a sickly shade of green. She mumbled a grudging apology, then snatched back my phone with ill grace. The owner, still on video call with Amber, counted the heads on the bus. There was an extra kid. It turned out this boy was Amber’s nephew, Leo. When the poor kid was pulled from his seat, he started fussing loudly. Amber, without a shred of mercy, slapped him hard on the back. “Get up, and give your seat to this old hag!” My knuckles cracked as I clenched my fists. “I suggest you watch your mouth.” I’d been training in self-defense since I was little, and after starting college, I was practically living at the gym. My muscles were clearly visible even under my short sleeves. Amber bristled, but bit back her retort. Once the little boy was up, an elderly lady in the next seat immediately tugged my arm. “Come on, dear, sit down. Don’t bother with a crazy person. I’ve got some homegrown apples here, have a piece.” From the lady’s tone, it sounded like Amber had already made quite a scene before I even got on the bus. But just as the apple was almost in my hand, Amber snatched it away. “I said no eating on the bus! I get motion sickness! Are you deaf, old woman?” 2. Amber stuffed the confiscated apple into her own bag, glaring down at us. “Let me repeat the tour rules!” she announced, puffing out her chest. “Rule number one: Once you’re on this bus, I’m in charge. No one challenges me. Violators pay a hundred-dollar fine.” “Rule number two: I get motion sickness. No eating on the bus. See something, I confiscate it.” “Rule number three: No phone calls or video chats. Too noisy. I like peace and quiet. Anyone making noise gets kicked off.” “Rule number four: When we reach our destination, you buy whatever I tell you to. Otherwise, I’ll leave you there.” “Rule number five: To be determined later.” From behind me, a young man snorted. “Psycho.” Amber wheeled around, strutting up to him. “What was that? Think you can mess with me because I’m a girl?” She put her hands on her hips. “We girls are delicate flowers, you know? We need gentle care and protection. I bet you don’t even have a girlfriend, do you? Ugly, bad temper – no wonder no one wants you.” The young man bristled, about to rise, but his friend quickly pulled him back down. “Don’t bother with her. We’ll deal with this after we get home.” Amber continued her tirade for a while longer, until the other passengers, almost in unison, pulled out their headphones and slipped them on. I followed suit, hoping to catch some sleep and escape the madness. I’d barely drifted off when I felt a tugging at my bag. My eyes snapped open. Amber’s nephew, Leo, was there, his dirty little hands yanking hard at the character keychain hanging from my purse. When his hands couldn’t yank it off, he resorted to using his teeth. I was just about to get up when he suddenly plopped to the floor and let out a bloodcurdling shriek. “She kicked me! She kicked me!” Everyone who had been sleeping jolted awake. Amber rushed over, wrapping an arm around her nephew, her eyes glinting with calculated malice. “You kicked my nephew! You owe me money, right now!” She pulled Leo closer, her voice rising. “If you’ve hurt him, can you even afford the damages?” Little Leo, meanwhile, wailed dramatically. “I don’t want money! I want that toy! I want the toy!” The series was red-hot right now, and the one on my bag was a rare, hidden edition, easily worth a couple of hundred dollars on the resell market. Seeing the adorable rabbit now, slobber-covered and dirt-stained from the kid’s teeth, was utterly frustrating. But I had several more at home, and I just wanted to get through the rest of this awful trip smoothly. So, I unclipped the rabbit keychain and tossed it into the boy’s lap. He finally quieted down, clutching the rabbit and showing it off to Amber, who promptly snatched it and stuffed it into her own bag. That bag seemed to be a repository for all the things she’d forcibly taken from people. Leo, meanwhile, rummaged inside, pulled out a bag of chips, and munched away noisily. I just shook my head. A while later, the bus finally pulled into a service area. I got off to use the restroom, but when I returned, I found my carry-on bag being stomped on by Leo. The bag was full of expensive cosmetics I’d chosen not to take with me because of the weight, and now they were all shattered. My fists clenched. The anger that had been simmering all day began to boil. I marched straight to the small police station located beside the service area and filed a report. The station was swamped and understaffed due to the holiday rush, but they assured me an officer would be dispatched before the bus departed again. I returned to the bus, my bag still a chaotic mess from being ransacked. The fury in my heart intensified as I began to inspect the damage. Amber chose that moment to return from the restroom. Her nephew instantly held up a bottle of perfume. Amber’s eyes lit up. She snatched the bottle. “I told you I get motion sickness. I hate strong smells. This perfume is confiscated.” I looked her dead in the eye. “Your nephew destroyed my things. Are you going to pay for them, or buy me a new set?” Amber acted completely nonchalant. “He’s just a kid, he didn’t mean it! Why are you, an adult, nitpicking with a child?” “Besides,” she added with a dismissive wave, “your stuff looked like cheap fakes anyway. Probably not even worth a hundred bucks total. Are you trying to extort me?” My cosmetics were all high-end, genuine brands. Even just one of my foundations cost hundreds, not counting the rest. Amber, on the other hand, was decked out in obvious knock-offs. As she argued with me, her nephew was sitting in my seat, drawing all over my bag with my eyebrow pencil. Not only that, he stuck his finished chewing gum right on my bus seat. Amber just shrugged. “He’s just a kid. Go on, hit him if you dare? You wouldn’t.” Without a word, I grabbed the kid, gave him a swift, disciplinary swat on the rear, and he instantly burst into wails. Amber started to lunge forward, intending to rescue him, but I shot her a look. “You want a swat too?” She immediately bit her lip, holding back. Just then, a police officer finally arrived. Amber, the queen of pre-emptive strikes, immediately started yelling. “Officer! There’s a lunatic on our bus! She just assaulted my nephew!” “He’s just a kid, what does he know? This old hag just attacked him! Look what she did to my nephew!” The officer glanced at me, then turned his gaze to Amber. “He’s just a kid who doesn’t know better. What’s your excuse?” He folded his arms. “Willful destruction of private property. Do you know how many days that can get you in detention?” Amber’s face drained of color instantly. I didn’t want her detained, just compensation for my losses. I pulled out my mobile payment QR code. “These items were half-used, so you can pay half price.” My damaged items totaled around ten thousand dollars. With the officer present, Amber grudgingly transferred five thousand dollars to me. She glowered at me as if she wanted to skin me alive, then rolled her eyes and tried to sit back down. I grabbed her arm and firmly pressed her down onto my original seat. The chewing gum her nephew had stuck there? She could enjoy it herself. 3. After the police officer’s visit, Amber remained unusually quiet for the rest of the journey. The other passengers finally breathed a collective sigh of relief; people made video calls, chatted, and shared snacks. Amber kept glaring at me, hunched over her phone, typing furiously. I subtly peeked at her screen, catching a glimpse of a profile picture that looked strangely familiar. My mom texted again, asking where I was. Just ahead was the tour group’s first stop: a large department store. Our family owned it. I texted back: Almost at our store, I can just head home from here. But my mom wouldn’t hear of it. She insisted on sending someone to pick me up. “Your Uncle Frank and the others are already here. Don’t be a bother, just come straight home for dinner, okay?” The bus slowly pulled up to the back entrance of the department store. I was busy texting my mom, so I only got up after everyone else had already disembarked. But then Amber suddenly moved close, took a pair of small scissors from her pocket, and snip! Through my tank top strap. The holiday heat had been intense on the bus, so I’d shed my jacket much earlier, leaving me in just my inner camisole. Both the camisole strap and my bra strap, which were quite thin, were cleanly severed. I looked at her, my gaze icy, the anger accumulated throughout the day reaching its breaking point. “Are you seriously trying to get yourself killed?” Amber puffed out her chest, looking even more arrogant. “Let me tell you, my boyfriend is a cop. This is his hometown! You won’t get away with messing with me here!” She glanced around, lowering her voice slightly. “We still have the return trip, you know. If you keep crossing me, I’ll make your life hell. But, if you buy one piece of lingerie, we can call it even.” We were in the parking lot, and I instinctively clutched my chest, trying to cover myself. “How much?” She smirked triumphantly. “Not much. Just nineteen thousand.” Nineteen thousand dollars, and she called it “not much”? She was trying to pull a scam right on my family’s turf! I scoffed, a humorless, angry laugh. At that moment, a group of men started gathering around us. Amber’s eyes lit up when she saw them. “See?” she hissed triumphantly. “If you don’t buy it, I’ll have these men take you away!” I swept my gaze over the men’s faces, and my smile broadened. “Uncle Frank, Uncle Bob, Uncle Jim, Cousin Mark!” I called out, my voice clear and cheerful. “You guys came to pick me up!”

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My boyfriend lost his memory. And he fell for the one person he’d always despised. He announced it on social media: “Even if I forget the whole world, my heart will remember you.” My friends tried to push me. “Aren’t you going to fight for him? He got that head injury saving your life, after all.” “And before his surgery, he begged you. He said if he came out of it ‘scrambled,’ you had to find a way to make him love you again.” I just shook my head, refusing to speak. In my last life, I endured a year of humiliation to finally make him remember me. In the end, all I got was a cold, dismissive question: “Why not just let this mistake be?” This time, I was determined to walk away. But when I stood with my arm linked through my new boyfriend’s, Evan’s eyes went red, his composure shattering. 1 The moment Evan opened his eyes after the surgery, I knew the script of my past life was replaying. His gaze swept over me, distant and empty, without a flicker of recognition. Evan’s father, overjoyed, seized the opportunity to sever all contact between us. The next time I heard anything about Evan was a month later. He posted a photo on his social media account, an embrace with a woman named Faye. The caption read: “Even if I forget the whole world, my heart will remember you.” Their love story spread like wildfire. They said the heir to the Thorne family was terrifyingly lucid after his amnesia, wary even of his own parents. But the moment he saw Faye, that cold mask cracked. They stared at each other for a long moment before Evan’s hand trembled and pressed against his heart. “Who are you?” Faye leaned against the doorframe, a sweet smile playing on her lips. “We grew up together. I’m your fiancée, silly.” Evan pulled her into his arms. The confusion and terror of his memory loss finally found an anchor. “What took you so long?” he asked, his voice thick with a child-like grievance. 2 Evan’s father had spent three years trying to pry him away from me with threats and bribes, all to no avail. One bout of amnesia, and Evan fell right into the arms of the woman his father had chosen for him. Everything was back on its predetermined track. My friends were furious on my behalf. “Evan cut ties with his family just to be with you and to get out of that arranged marriage with Faye. How could he possibly like her?” “Exactly! Every time Faye tried to get near him before, he looked at her with pure disgust. He must think she’s you!” They urged me to go “save” him, insisting that when his memory returned, he’d be mortified, sickened by what he’d done. I just shook my head at their pleas. Because I knew the truth. Evan wouldn’t be mortified. He would drown himself in Faye’s feigned tenderness and never want to wake up. In my last life, I spent a year enduring his insults and humiliation, all to make him remember me. And when he finally did, he got drunk, scrolling through photos of his sweet moments with Faye over and over. Then he looked up at me, his eyes like chips of ice. “Why not just let this mistake be?” I froze, completely lost. “…But you begged me before the surgery. You lost your memory saving my life.” Evan cut me off. “And for that, I haven’t treated you poorly.” His voice was laced with impatience. “Can’t you just… let me go?” I will never forget the searing pain and humiliation of that moment. Now, facing it all again, I would not walk that same path to ruin. I refused my friends’ advice, packed my things, and left the home I had shared with Evan that very night. 3 But fate had other plans. I was with my best friend, running errands. I fell asleep in the car, and when I woke up, she had parked in front of a bar. The moment we walked in, I realized it was the grand opening of a bar owned by Evan’s friend, Samuel. A jolt of clarity shot through me. The script was still playing out. Inside, Evan was the center of attention, Faye nestled in his arm. He didn’t seem surprised to see me at all. A mocking smile touched his lips, just as I knew it would. “Miss Rhea, is it? They tell me you’re the one I saved.” “That’s right,” I nodded. His brow furrowed. “They also said you intended to repay my kindness with… yourself. I didn’t quite believe it at first.” He sneered. “But seeing as you’ve gone to such lengths to track me down here, you can’t blame me for being blunt.” He shot to his feet, looking down at me, the disdain in his eyes undisguised. “Listen closely, Miss Rhea. You don’t have to repay me for saving your life, but you can’t repay my kindness with this kind of twisted obsession!” He bit off each word, his face a mask of frost. “Do I make myself clear?” It was identical to my last life. Even the wounding words were the same, word for word. That day, in my last life, the bar was filled with Evan and Samuel’s friends. Most of them knew about our history. I naively thought they would stand up for me, confirm our relationship. So when Evan ordered his men to throw me out, I fought back, desperately trying to tell the truth. I know I must have looked pathetic and crazed, but I couldn’t bear to see him deceived, couldn’t accept our love ending like this. I held up my phone, begging him to just look at our photos together. He ordered his men to destroy the “fake pictures” with a look of disgust. In the struggle, my collar was torn, exposing my shoulder. Faye let out a tinkling laugh. She turned to Evan, her voice a playful purr. “Evan, darling, what do you mean a ‘twisted obsession’? I think she has a rather nice figure, don’t you?” Evan ignored my cries, pinching Faye’s cheek with faux affection. “You’re asking for it.” The crowd chuckled knowingly at their exchange. Not a single person spoke up for me. Even Samuel, who had secretly given me the invitation, looked away uncomfortably. As I was dragged out the door, Evan was cradling the back of Faye’s neck, lowering his lips for a deep, passionate kiss… I snapped back to the present. Evan was waiting for my response, his patience wearing thin. “Since you don’t seem to understand, let me be perfectly clear. Your offer to ‘repay me with yourself’ is the last thing I want.” His voice was frigid. “You’re not my type. Even before I lost my memory, I wouldn’t have given you a second glance. So stop fantasizing about me.” The bar fell silent. All eyes were on me. Even those who knew our past were eagerly waiting to see the abandoned woman make a fool of herself. But Evan’s condescending, holier-than-thou act no longer hurt me. Instead, it ignited a deep, simmering hatred. I laughed, my tone exaggerated. “So, Mr. Thorne, you’ve spent all this time dramatically warning me off because you thought I was interested in you?” The crowd stilled, ears perked. Evan scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. I know you’ve been contacting my lawyer, trying to dig up information on me.” Faye burst out laughing again, bending over with the force of it. “Oh, Miss Rhea, just how badly do you want my fiancé? You’re certainly persistent.” The people around them joined in with low, mocking chuckles. I shook my head, my own smile laced with weary amusement. “Of course, I have to be persistent.” I slowly reached into my bag and pulled out a single sheet of paper. As I unfolded it, two large words were visible to everyone: I.O.U. “Because if I’m not, your fiancé might just decide to default on the money he owes me!” 4 The IOU in my hand was from three years ago. Back then, Evan had cut ties with his family for me, and they had frozen all his assets. I gave him my entire life savings to start his own company. His eyes had been red as he wrote it out, stroke by stroke. He’d said, “Rhea, I’ll spend my entire life paying back what I owe you.” I no longer wanted his lifetime. But getting my money back was my right. My declaration sent a shockwave through the bar. First, the idea of Evan Thorne, the sole heir to the Thorne fortune, borrowing money from a humble acupuncturist like me was absurd. But then they remembered he’d been cast out by his family, and looks of dawning comprehension spread across their faces. Second, Evan had just finished publicly berating me for harassing him, loudly warning me to love him less, only for it to turn out he was the one in debt. It was all a self-important fantasy. The crowd’s whispers grew louder. “She’s here to collect a debt? Pfft…” “Not a debt of love, a real, monetary debt!” The grins on their faces were becoming impossible to contain. The mob is always like that; they side with whoever has the upper hand. Evan’s face was a thundercloud. He didn’t even look at the paper in my hand. “Hah. Clever little trick. But it won’t work on me. Get out now, before I really lose my temper.” My own face hardened. I held the IOU up high, making sure everyone could see Evan’s distinctive, sharp handwriting. My voice turned sharp, too. “Take a good look at the signature. It even has your thumbprint on it. If your eyes are failing you, I’d be happy to have a professional verify its authenticity.” “And besides this note, I have the bank transfer records from three years ago.” Evan’s eyes flickered as he stared at the familiar script. For a moment, his rigid composure wavered. He pressed his hand to his temple, his brow furrowed in pain. I let out a cold laugh. “See it clearly now? If you do, then you should understand why I was talking to your lawyer. The legal process is complicated. Perhaps your lawyer understands the basic principle of paying one’s debts better than you do.” The other patrons in the bar were now fully invested. “Is he faking a headache to get out of paying?” “Wow, I actually thought she was harassing him. Turns out he’s a deadbeat who’s trying to flip the script.” “Looks like a gentleman, acts like a scumbag!” Evan’s head seemed to hurt even more. His face darkened, his brow knitting tighter. Faye started to panic. She pulled his hand away from his head. “Evan, darling, if you can’t remember, don’t try! Stop torturing yourself.” Then she whirled around, snatched the IOU from my hand, and ripped it to shreds. “If you spout any more nonsense, I’ll make sure you’re sued for slander. The Thorne family has the resources to make it stick!” I raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Why the rush, Miss Faye? Weren’t you cackling like a hen just a minute ago when you heard I was talking to a lawyer? Is a mere eight hundred thousand really enough to give you a headache and make you fly off the handle?” As I spoke, I pulled a second IOU from my bag. “Look closely. I have plenty more, all identical.” I tucked the paper into the breast pocket of Evan’s suit. “Mr. Big Shot, if you want to skip out on your debt, just say so. I’d at least respect you for being a man about it. Slandering your creditor and accusing her of being blindly in love with you is just pathetic.” “You have three days. If I don’t see the money, don’t blame me for what happens next. A person with nothing to lose has no fear of a man in expensive shoes.” 5 The scene that day was ugly. The host, Samuel, finally rushed out, pretending he’d just finished with some urgent business, and tried to smooth things over. I didn’t wait for him to speak. I snatched the invitation from my friend’s hand and threw it in his face. “Samuel, if you’re man enough to covet another man’s fiancée, you should be man enough to fight for her yourself instead of starting wars for others and hiding in the shadows like a coward, waiting to pick up the scraps.” Samuel’s face turned a sickly shade of green. “Ooh, spicy! Does the owner have a thing for the deadbeat’s fiancée?” “That deadbeat’s a pretty good actor, though. Look at the sweat on his forehead.” Humiliated, Samuel started trying to clear the bar, ushering guests out. The room was in chaos. I turned and walked out of the bar without a backward glance. Behind me, Evan’s gaze was fixed on my back, as if held there by some powerful, unseen force. His eyes burned not just with anger, but with a deep, churning confusion and unease. 6 I heard Evan got sick. He collapsed right after leaving Samuel’s bar. He was plagued by headaches for days. As soon as he felt slightly better, he ordered his people to verify the eight-hundred-thousand-dollar debt. In a panic, Faye brought him to a traditional medicine clinic for acupuncture. Her request was simple: relax Evan’s mind, stop him from thinking about the past. In other words, don’t let him regain his memory. As luck would have it, the renowned specialist was my mentor, Dr. Adler. The day they came, I was at her clinic for physical therapy. We were separated by a thin curtain. They waited outside while I received treatment. Dr. Adler stimulated my fingers with the needles, her voice full of concern. “How could you try to bend a sharp steel plate with your bare hands? The tendons in these fingers were nearly severed. Even after therapy, you may never be able to hold a needle properly again.” I managed a bitter smile but said nothing. In this life, when the accident happened, I didn’t have my memories from the last one. When I saw Evan, pinned by a steel plate and barely breathing after saving me, how could I have done nothing? I had gone mad, clawing at that plate, my hands a bloody mess, feeling no pain at all. Evan had cried, weakly trying to pry my fingers away. “Rhea, let go! Your hands… how will you ever hold a needle again if you ruin them?” His blood dripped down, blurring his face. “Please, Rhea, let go. I only ask one thing of you. If… if my brain gets scrambled, promise me you’ll find a way to make me remember… that I love you!” The fine silver needles pricked my fingers, one by one. I remained silent as my eyes began to burn. Dr. Adler administered the last needle with a heavy heart. “What a tragedy. If these hands can’t hold a needle, your career is over.” She shook her head and walked out. Evan was settled onto the treatment bed next to mine. Faye chattered away. “Doctor, was the patient next door also in a car accident?” “She was rescuing her boyfriend from a car crash,” my mentor replied. “Truck drivers these days are the worst,” Faye complained. “If that driver hadn’t been driving fatigued, my fiancé wouldn’t have been in this mess.” She sighed dramatically. “Well, I guess you can’t blame him entirely. There was that other driver, the woman. So stupid, such a terrible driver. If he hadn’t shielded her, this never would have happened.” Her voice took on a tinge of grievance. “Evan, darling, if you could do it all over again, would you still forget me just to save that idiot?” Evan was silent for a long time. Then his voice came, low and firm. “No.” Faye was delighted, planting a loud kiss on his cheek. “Of course not! It was all trouble and no reward. Now we can’t even get rid of her.” Evan said nothing more. Dr. Adler came over to begin his treatment. “Just the head needs acupuncture, correct?” “That’s right. Only his head was seriously injured. We were lucky. He was pinned across the chest, but my fiancé is blessed. That sharp steel plate only broke a few bones.” “The doctors said several ribs were fractured. It barely missed his organs.” … Dr. Adler was quiet for a long moment. She seemed to be looking at their registration form. A moment later, Faye’s voice turned shrill. “Doctor, why are your hands shaking? How can you perform acupuncture like that?” My mentor’s tone was sharp. “If you don’t trust me, you can request a refund. I’m not the right person to treat your fiancé’s condition.” “How dare you! Why you…” Faye was about to argue further, but it seemed Evan stopped her. The voices outside fell silent. After a moment of quiet, there was a sharp swish. The curtain by my bed was ripped open. 7 Evan stood beside my bed, his eyes blazing with fury. “You really are relentless, aren’t you?” “Going to all the trouble of bribing a doctor to stage this little drama for me. Tell me, what will it take to finally get rid of you?” He finished, his gaze falling on my hands, which were bristling with silver needles. He let out a choked laugh. “You really commit to the part, don’t you? You’re certainly not afraid to hurt yourself.” Without warning, he lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. “Today, I’m going to see for myself which of your tendons are ‘severed’!” “Don’t!” Faye shrieked. Too late. The grotesque scars on the inside of my fingers were laid bare for Evan to see. Four fingers, marked with deep scars of varying sizes—all from keeping that steel plate from piercing his chest. Evan froze. Panic flared in his eyes before he snatched my other hand. The same. Four fingers, each one scarred. He looked dazed, a wave of uncontrollable terror washing over him. “This is impossible! Impossible!” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Seeing him press his temples again, Faye had a flash of inspiration. “Evan, darling, he saved you! Isn’t it only right that she helped hold the plate for a second?” “Calm down. Her old tactics of clinging to you didn’t work, so now she’s trying to play the victim. You can’t feel sorry for her.” Just like last time, Faye’s words were the lifeline Evan desperately needed. In my last life, I had humbly used the scars on my hands to prove our love. Evan had been moved at first. I thought that small flicker of emotion would be enough to make him investigate the truth. I was wrong. Perhaps he was too cowardly to seek the truth, or too arrogant to bother. In any case, Faye’s explanation gave him the perfect excuse to run. He deliberately chose to hurt me. “So what if it’s true? I trust my own feelings. Even without my memory, my heart tells me who I love.” He had touched his chest, his smile cruel. “And right here,” he’d said, “I feel nothing for you.” I had cried with such despair that day. I tried to tell myself to give up, but the memory of Evan, his face covered in blood, wouldn’t let me go. The good Evan and the bad Evan tore me apart until I was on the verge of a breakdown. But this time, facing his attitude, my heart was a placid lake. After hearing Faye’s words, the confusion in Evan’s eyes dissipated. He was saved, free to take the easy way out. His brow relaxed; the headache seemed to vanish. But his attitude toward me had shifted slightly. His tone softened, and he avoided looking at my hands. “If you were trying to guilt-trip me, you’ve succeeded.” “Name your price. Anything but my affection, I can give you.” I burst out laughing. I leaned back against the headboard, looking him up and down with open contempt. “Guilt-trip you? Let me tell you something, I wouldn’t stand by and watch a stray dog suffer, let alone a human life, no matter how worthless. And ‘anything I can give’? That’s a big promise. How about you pay back the eight hundred thousand before you start making grand declarations?” Evan’s face flushed a deep red. He opened his mouth to argue but was speechless. Just then, Dr. Adler came to remove my needles. She did one hand, and I did the other myself. As my fingertips closed around a silver needle, Evan flinched back, a conditioned reflex making him hide his hands behind his back. When he realized what he’d done, he froze, his breathing growing ragged. I watched him, a wicked smile playing on my lips as I slowly, deliberately, pulled the needles from my hand, one by one. With each needle, the color drained further from his face. The body’s instincts don’t lie. Three years ago, when I used to practice on him, he developed a fear of my needles. Whenever I held one, he’d hide his hands. Now, he stared at my movements, his expression shifting from shock to pure panic. He grabbed Faye’s hand, his voice fragmented and broken. “We need to… go home. Now.”

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1 My mother hated me. She believed I had stolen the love of my father, my grandfather, and my grandmother from her. On Christmas Day, she left me at home alone with three male neighbors while she went shopping with other relatives. Before she left, I cried and told her I was scared. She just sneered at me. “Willow, they’re your elders! Besides, with that scrawny body of yours, you really think they’d be interested?” After she was gone, they raped me, then killed me. They dismembered my body and flushed it down the drain. When my mother couldn’t find me, she told our relatives that I was born cheap, that I’d probably run off to fool around with some boy. But later, when she learned of my death, she went mad. When my mother bought clothes for my cousin, her face was lit with a gentle smile I had never seen before. She carefully held a dress up to my cousin, beaming as she praised her. “This bright color is just perfect for our little Joy.” My cousin tried to refuse, but my mother insisted. “It’s Christmas! A festive color for a festive time.” My aunt felt a little awkward. “Since we’re here,” she said, “we should get something for Willow, too.” I really did need new clothes. The winter coat I was wearing was from two years ago, a gift from my father for my fifteenth birthday. Teenagers grow fast. I couldn’t even zip it up anymore. But my mother’s face twisted in disgust. “Buy her something? Why?” “So she can dress up all flashy and go seduce men? Besides, Willow was born trash. She doesn’t deserve clothes this nice.” Although my cousin and aunt were used to hearing my mother say such things, they couldn’t help but look embarrassed. All our relatives knew. My mother didn’t like me. She had been the apple of her parents’ and brother’s eyes growing up. Then she met my father, who spoiled her like a princess. My cousin told me that when my mother was pregnant with me, she had been excited for my arrival. She used to say she hoped I’d be a boy, so I could protect her alongside my father. But I was a girl. And a premature one at that. I was frail after birth, so my grandparents and my father shifted some of their attention from my mother to me. My mother felt I had stolen their love. From that day on, she disliked me. The more she neglected me, the guiltier my grandparents and father felt, and the more she hated me. It was tolerable when they were around. But as soon as they were gone, she would become even worse. She once stared at me with pure hatred and said, “I wish I had just gotten rid of you when you were still in my belly.” Remembering the cold, venomous look in her eyes, I shuddered. When I came back to myself, my mother had already dragged my aunt out of the clothing store, as if terrified she might actually buy me something. A sudden wave of sadness washed over me. But, Mom. Even if you were willing to buy me clothes now, I couldn’t wear them. I followed behind them, watching as they continued to wander through the mall. My father, who was visiting relatives out of town, called. He reminded my mother, “Willow is a big girl now. When you and your sister-in-law go out, don’t leave her home alone.” My mother bristled at my father’s concern for me. She whined into the phone, “Willow, Willow, that’s all you ever care about! What about me? I’m your wife!” My father’s good-natured laugh came through the phone. “Of course, I care about you. I care about you the most.” After a few more sweet nothings, he reminded her again, “Remember to keep Willow with you. Men who’ve been drinking can be dangerous.” My mother nodded absently and hung up. She kicked at a pile of snow, muttering unhappily. “They say a daughter is her father’s lover from a past life. It must be true.” “Little slut.” I watched her, my heart aching with a strange urge to cry. Knowing my mother’s personality, my father sent a message to my cousin. At the sound of the notification, my mother eyed my cousin suspiciously. “Well, well, looks like our Joy is a busy bee. Who’s messaging you on Christmas?” My cousin didn’t dare say it was my father and quickly made up a lie. But she took his words to heart. A little while later, she said casually, “Auntie, maybe we should head back. It’s getting really cold out here.” “Besides, it’s no fun for Willow to be home all by herself.” My mother couldn’t stand anyone showing me concern. “Who said she’s alone?” she retorted. “Aren’t her two older ‘brothers’ and their uncle there with her?” My aunt also felt uneasy. “But they’re all men, and they’ve been drinking. Rose, Willow’s a young woman now. It’s not safe for her to be alone with them.” My mother just scoffed. “What’s not safe about it?” “They’re her elders! Besides, with that scrawny body of hers, what man would even look at her?” Hearing this, a dull ache spread through my chest. How strange. My heart had already been torn out, so how could it still hurt? 2 Two hours ago, my mother had said the exact same thing to me. It was Christmas Day. Our neighbor, Uncle Miller, had come over with his two sons. My aunt and cousin were also there, so it was a lively gathering. Everyone had a little to drink with dinner. The women were fine, but Uncle Miller and his sons drank heavily. After dinner, my mother suggested she, my aunt, and my cousin go shopping, leaving me at home alone. Uncle Miller and his sons eyed me with lecherous gazes. I trembled with fear. Drunk, they no longer had their usual gentle demeanor. They looked like savage beasts. I clutched my mother’s sleeve, pleading, “Mom, I want to go with you. I don’t want to stay home…” “I’m scared!” But she pried my hand off and sneered at me. “Willow, they’re your elders! Besides, you really think with that scrawny body of yours, they’d be interested?” Before I could say another word, she pushed me into my room and locked the door, leaving the key and my phone on the coffee table outside. But she didn’t know. The moment they left, Uncle Miller and his sons unlocked the door and came in. They subjected me to a brutal assault. Afraid I would scream and alert the neighbors, they covered my mouth and nose, pressing down hard. By the time it was over, I was dead. Mom, if you had just listened to Dad, if you had just called me instead of coming back, you would have found out that I was already gone. While you were saying those words, Uncle Miller and his sons were frantically dismembering my body and flushing it down the toilet. Mom. The bathroom floor is so cold. I’m so cold, and it hurts so much. My mother took my aunt and cousin to get their nails done. I watched from the side, a little envious. Once, I had the chance to go with her. The nail salon was filled with countless sparkling decorations, glittering under the lights. They were so beautiful, like crystals from a fairy tale. I was leaning over the counter, mesmerized, when my mother’s gaze fell on me. She slapped me, hard. “What are you looking at?” she mocked in front of everyone. “Want to get your nails done so you can better seduce men?” I was stunned, my hand covering my cheek as I stood there, frozen. People pointed and whispered, but my mother didn’t spare me another glance. But now, she was saying to my cousin, “Joy, you have such long, fair fingers. Any style would look beautiful on you.” I lowered my head and looked away. My cousin sent me a text. I didn’t reply. She looked worried. While my mother was getting her nails done, she snuck out to call me. But I couldn’t answer the phone anymore. My cousin grew even more anxious, shifting restlessly in her seat. I wanted to comfort her, but my hand passed right through her body. I fell silent, my eyes stinging. Just then, a young mother and daughter walked in. The mother was also there for a manicure, and her daughter had her arm linked through hers, helping her pick out charms. The daughter chose two large rhinestones. “Mom, these are so pretty!” she giggled. The mother lovingly tapped her nose. “My baby has the best taste!” They had such a wonderful relationship. I was so envious my eyes felt cold. I couldn’t look away. When I finally did, I realized my mother was watching them too. My aunt noticed as well. “What’s wrong, Rose? Are you jealous?” she teased. My heart tightened. That’s right. Mom, do you also envy their bond? But in the next moment, my mother looked away with a dismissive tsk. “I am envious,” she said. “That little girl is so much more likable than Willow,” she added with disgust. “You don’t know, sis. Willow is so manipulative. She only knows how to act pitiful in front of my parents and my husband, making it seem like I abuse her! She’s always trying to please them, just to steal everything that’s mine!” My aunt wanted to say something, but she held her tongue. She knew my mother’s beliefs were too deeply ingrained. In the end, she just sighed. But for some reason, my mother irritably pushed away the charms she had just chosen. She told the nail technician to just do a single color. “Forget it. There’s nothing else worth seeing. Let’s just go back.” “Before that damn girl causes any trouble at home.” A flicker of hope stirred in my chest. Mom, could it be that seeing other mothers and daughters made you think of the daughter you left behind? But Mom, it’s too late now. The blood and hair I left in the bathroom have already been cleaned up by Uncle Miller and his sons. 3 When they got home, my mother, aunt, and cousin went straight to my room. It was neat and tidy, as if no atrocity had ever occurred. If I weren’t the one who had lived through it, I might have thought it was all just a bad dream. My cousin became even more worried. She turned to look at Uncle Miller and his sons, who were pretending to watch TV. Their eyes met hers, and they quickly looked away, their gazes darting back to the television. My cousin sensed something was wrong. She tugged on my aunt’s sleeve. My aunt, her brow furrowed, seemed to realize something too. “Where’s Willow?” she asked them. “Oh,” the older son, Ken, stammered with a weak smile. “She probably went out. I saw her take a call and leave.” My cousin looked skeptical. Ken nudged his brother, Leo, who quickly chimed in. “Yeah, yeah! Girls her age probably prefer hanging out with their friends, right?” My cousin was even more convinced something was wrong. She said that even if I had gone out, my phone shouldn’t be unreachable. She and my aunt exchanged a look. “Let’s call the police,” my aunt said firmly. Uncle Miller and his sons flinched. But my mother stopped them. She looked furious. “Call the police for what?” Her voice was cold and certain. “You don’t know Willow, but I do!” “She’s making herself unreachable on purpose because she knows my parents are coming over tomorrow! She wants to use this to tattle on me! To say I mistreat her!” My aunt and cousin were speechless. “Rose, what are you talking about…” But my mother just sneered, her eyes flashing with anger. “I’ll show her who’s more important to my parents, me or her!” “That little slut! She’s asking for a beating! Nobody is to go looking for her! When she gets back, I’ll break her legs!” The more my cousin listened, the more absurd it sounded. “Auntie! Willow isn’t like that!” she cried out. My mother just laughed coldly. “Not like that? You’ve all been fooled by her act!” “Just a few days ago, I saw her out shopping with some boy. That little slut is dating behind our backs! She’s probably out fooling around with her boyfriend right now!” Hearing this, my aunt and cousin’s suspicions were finally, reluctantly, quelled. The next day, I still hadn’t returned. My mother woke up early. She cooked dumplings for my cousin and braided her hair. I watched her hands weave through my cousin’s dark hair, so gentle, as if terrified of hurting her. The winter sun slanted through the window, bathing them in a warm glow. It was such a tender scene, as if they were the real mother and daughter. I felt a little dazed. Mom, if my cousin were your daughter, would you treat her the way you treat me? Is it me you dislike, or is it any girl who happens to be your daughter? Or maybe… Even now, I still don’t understand why my mother doesn’t like me. Was it because when I was three, she had terrible menstrual cramps, and my father had to leave her to rush me to the hospital with a 104-degree fever? Or was it in kindergarten, when she forgot to pick me up after school because she was out shopping with friends, and I was almost kidnapped? When my grandfather found out, he scolded her harshly, humiliating her. I don’t know. But Mom. You did love me once, when I was little. In the fifth grade, I was bullied by my classmates for my tattered clothes. You happened to see it when you came to the school. You were like an angry mother hen, shielding a trembling me behind you, childishly threatening the other kids that if anyone dared to bully Willow again, you would beat them up. Mom, you don’t know. How I wish time could have frozen in that moment. On the third day, the day after Boxing Day, my mother still hadn’t looked for me. It was as if I was never meant to be a part of this family. My father had called to ask about me, but my mother had brushed him off, saying I was out with friends. By now, the three men who had killed me had been sent home by my mother with all the proper courtesies. My grandparents arrived, wanting to give me my Christmas money. A flash of disgust crossed my mother’s eyes. She ran to them, whining like a child. “Mom, Dad, all you ever think about is Willow! What about my present? Did you get one for me?” My grandparents smiled and handed her an envelope. “Of course, we have one for you! We could forget anyone, but never you!” Like a red butterfly, my mother happily took the envelope into her bedroom. My grandparents continued to look for me. “Where’s Willow? Rose? Tell Willow her grandparents are here! We have a big gift for her!” My mother’s voice, tinged with annoyance, came from the bedroom. “What big gift? What does a child need a big gift for? Mom, Dad, just leave the money with me!” My grandparents frowned. Just then, my cousin, who had been calling me nonstop for two days, turned pale. She whispered to my grandparents that she hadn’t been able to reach me for two days.

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