Category: English

The day I planned to propose, my girlfriend stood before our entire company and announced her wedding date—to someone else. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just went to find her, needing an explanation. But I overheard her talking to a friend instead. “Aren’t you afraid doing this will piss off Liam?” “I have no choice. Ethan’s family despises him. If I don’t marry him, they’ll force him to marry some fool. Besides,” she added confidently, “Liam loves me too much. He’d never leave me.” Later, my family arranged a more suitable match for me. As fate would have it, my wedding day was the same as hers. As a bride, she was riddled with anxiety, a terrible premonition hanging over her. She told her bridesmaids to keep a close watch, to make sure I didn’t show up and cause a scene. That’s when one of her bridesmaids said awkwardly, “You didn’t know? Liam’s getting married today, too.” 1 “Mom, I’ll agree to the arranged marriage.” The teacup in my mother’s hand trembled. She looked at me, her face a mask of shock. “Are you absolutely sure, sweetheart?” Her concern was palpable. Just last night, a video of my girlfriend, Ava, accepting another man’s proposal had gone viral. Everyone knew the prestigious Croft family was celebrating an engagement, but the groom wasn’t me, the man she’d been with for eight years. Seeing my silence, my mother’s voice grew urgent. “Liam, marriage is a monumental decision. Please, don’t do this out of spite.” I swallowed the bitterness lodged in my throat and shook my head. “Mom, I’ve just… seen things clearly. You didn’t immediately reject the Croft family’s offer because you believe their daughter is a better match for me than Ava. I trust your judgment.” My mother let out a deep sigh. “The eldest Croft daughter is indeed an exceptional young woman. I’ve heard she’s as kind as she is beautiful, grounded and intelligent. But perhaps you should meet her first, before making a final decision?” “No. You can handle the arrangements. I’m fine with whatever you decide.” After settling things, I had a meal at home before returning to the small apartment I’d bought for myself. I never expected to find Ava there. Hearing the door open, she casually ended her phone call. “You’re back later than usual. A rough day at work?” I slipped off my shoes. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “I was just passing by on my way back from a work dinner and thought I’d pop in to see you,” Ava said, her voice as soft and sweet as ever. She moved to embrace me, just like she always did. But as she drew near, I caught the scent of a familiar men’s cologne. It was the one Ethan always wore, his signature scent. A wall of resistance shot up inside me. I subtly sidestepped her embrace, but a wave of sour disappointment washed over me. “You’ve seen me. You can go now.” Ava’s outstretched arms froze in mid-air. A small smile touched her lips. “Oh, Liam, don’t be like this. Weren’t you just complaining a few days ago that I don’t spend enough time with you? I cleared my entire evening just for you.” Yesterday, I was supposed to propose to her. I’d even called her that morning, reminding her to leave work early for our dinner reservation. I waited at the restaurant from daylight until dusk. She never showed. She never even called. Just as the restaurant was closing and I was about to go find her, I received a video from an unknown number. It was Ethan, proposing to Ava in front of their entire office. In the video, their colleagues were cheering, ecstatic. I couldn’t believe it. I rushed to her company, needing to hear her explain it herself. That’s when I overheard the conversation with her best friend. That’s when I realized that in this game of love, I had been made a complete and utter fool. Remembering her words from last night felt like a knife twisting in my heart, the pain suffocating. I looked up at the woman before me, her features so gentle, and my vision blurred with tears. A crushing weight settled on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Seeing my tears, a flicker of panic crossed Ava’s face. She fumbled to wipe them away. “Liam, what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” 2 Growing up, Ava was the neighborhood tomboy—mischievous, rebellious, but with a fierce sense of justice. She couldn’t stand to see anyone bullied. I was the opposite: quiet, introverted, never quite fitting in with the other kids. They found me boring and always left me out. Whenever that happened, Ava would plant her hands on her hips, her cheeks puffed out in indignation, and march right up to them. “Fine, don’t play with him! Who needs you anyway?” Then she’d turn to me, clap me on the shoulder, and grin. “Don’t worry. From now on, I’ve got your back. If they mess with you again, you tell me, and I’ll sort them out!” From that day on, she was my shadow, a little sunbeam warming my lonely world. When we got to college, I finally confessed my feelings for her, and we fell together as naturally as breathing. Our relationship made her even gentler with me. We shared everything. During our happiest moments, she would talk about the future. “You’d better give me the most spectacular proposal, Liam,” she’d tease. “Otherwise, I’m not marrying you.” I never forgot those words. Then, we both joined the student government, and Ethan burst into our lives. He and Ava were in the same major, sharing a world of technical jargon I couldn’t penetrate. At first, she would patiently translate their academic discussions for me. But soon, her patience wore thin. “If you don’t get it, look it up online,” she’d snap. “Or just don’t listen. It’s not your major, it’s useless for you to know.” She and Ethan became inseparable, talking from morning till night, in person and online. For me, she had only a few perfunctory words. Friends warned me to pay attention, to be wary of their connection. I brushed it off. I believed in privacy, even in a relationship. I trusted that she wouldn’t fall for someone else. Reality slapped me hard across the face. That night, Ava didn’t leave. She said she was worried about me. I looked at her for a long time before finally saying, “Do whatever you want.” I went to my room and, just as she was about to follow, I clicked the lock shut. She stood outside the door, her expression complex. After a moment, she said, “Liam, I’ll be right out here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be waiting.” I ignored her. A hot tear fell onto the back of my cold hand, the sensation searing. Ava, I’m done loving you. I woke the next morning with a dull ache in my temples. As I left my room, I saw Ava hastily putting on her coat. “Liam, something urgent came up, I have to go. I’ll text you the restaurant address tonight, we’ll have dinner together.” She was gone before I could even reply, a blur disappearing before my eyes. I pursed my lips and glanced at the sofa where she’d slept. In her haste, she’d left her phone behind. I picked it up, intending to get it to her later. Just then, a notification lit up the screen. Ava never used a passcode. The message was from someone named “Monkey.” It was a photo of Ethan, looking disheveled but smiling gently at the camera from a hospital emergency room. The caption read: “Don’t rush. Drive safe. I’ll wait for you right here.” 3 Now I understood why she’d been in such a hurry. A bitter laugh escaped me. I arranged for a local courier to deliver her phone to her office, then headed to my own job. I’d started at my family’s company right after graduation. My father, wanting to test my mettle, had me start from the bottom. Through my own efforts, I’d since become a department manager. As soon as I arrived, my assistant handed me a project proposal. “Mr. Hayes, this needs your attention. All the groundwork is done, it just needs your signature.” I took it and saw it was a collaboration with Ava’s family company, Hayes Industries. I had no memory of it. “Has my father approved this?” “No,” my assistant replied, momentarily flustered. “You said before that unless it was a major partnership, Hayes Industries should always be our first choice.” I remembered then. I had said that. I’d thought our families would be one, so it didn’t matter who profited more. Besides, it’s not easy for a woman to run a corporation. As her boyfriend, I felt it was my duty to support her. “Let this one go,” I said. “But from now on, prioritize what’s best for our company. We go with the most advantageous partner.” After a long day of work, I decided to check out a new Chinese restaurant that had just opened. When I got there, it was packed. Just as I was about to leave, I heard a familiar voice. “Mr. Hayes, you’re here for dinner too?” I turned to see Ethan and Ava sitting at a table, smiling. When Ava saw me, her expression froze for a second before she quickly recovered. “I was just about to call you to join us! I can’t believe you’re already here. Come, sit with us.” She waved over a waiter for another set of cutlery. I hadn’t eaten much for lunch and was starving. So I stayed. “Mr. Hayes,” Ethan said, “I remember you like spicy food. Let’s order a few more dishes for you.” I glanced at the table. Everything was mild. Both Ava and I loved spicy food. She used to say that a dish without chili had no soul, that eating it was like a death sentence. Now, faced with a table of bland food, she didn’t bat an eye. She shot Ethan a playful glare. “I think you’re the one who wants it. Don’t you remember what the doctor said today? You can only have mild food for now.” Ethan just smiled sheepishly. “I’m paying tonight, I just wanted to cater to our guest. But, I’ll listen to my little boss. Whatever you say, goes.” Ava laughed, a mix of amusement and exasperation. “What ‘little boss’? That sounds terrible, don’t call me that again!” Her words were a reprimand, but her tone was fond. Watching them, the heart that had been shattered into a million pieces felt nothing at all. A moment later, Ava’s phone rang. “You two go ahead and eat. I have to take this.” As she walked away, the smile on Ethan’s face faded, replaced by a provocative stare directed at me. “You know, Liam, I’m actually impressed. You know Ava and I are getting married, yet you still cling to her. You’ve got some nerve.” Catching the disdain in his voice, I looked up. “Is stealing someone else’s girlfriend something to be proud of? Something worth showing off in public?” “You—” Before he could finish, thick smoke began billowing from the restaurant’s kitchen. Someone screamed, “Fire!” The bustling restaurant descended into chaos. Everyone scrambled to escape. I stood up, ready to leave, when a figure slammed into me. Before I could regain my balance, I heard a familiar, panicked voice. “Ethan, let’s go! It’s a fire!” Ava didn’t stop. She grabbed Ethan’s hand and pulled him out of the building. Once outside, staring at the smoke pouring from the restaurant, her heart pounded with the thrill of survival. She threw her arms around him. “Thank God… thank God we’re okay…” Then, she seemed to remember something. She spun around and saw me, standing a short distance away, watching them with cold eyes. Her voice caught. “Liam, I… I was just so scared. I didn’t mean to not call for you…” “I know,” I cut her off, my voice frigid. In that moment, as she pulled him away, I knew with absolute clarity: the girl who once promised to protect me forever was gone. Seeing I wasn’t angry, she visibly relaxed and offered to drive me home. “No, thanks. Ethan looks pretty shaken up. You should probably take him home first.” 4 In the days that followed, I didn’t contact Ava. I was busy preparing for my own wedding. I received a message from the jeweler and used my lunch break to pick up the custom-made wedding rings. They were originally meant for Ava, for a proposal that would never happen. As fate would have it, just as I stepped into the store, Ethan walked in right behind me. He saw the small, elegant box in my hand and looked at the designer with an air of arrogance. “I want to see the ring he’s holding.” “I’m sorry, sir. This was a custom design for Mr. Hayes. It belongs to him.” Ethan scoffed. “A custom ring? Acting like you’re about to get married…” His voice trailed off as a dark realization seemed to dawn on him. “You’re planning to crash my wedding with this, aren’t you?” Seeing the madness in his eyes, I couldn’t be bothered to engage. “If you’re sick, get help. Don’t come here and act insane.” I turned to leave with the box. Suddenly, he lunged. Before I could react, he ripped the box open, threw the rings on the floor, and began stomping on them with his heel. That wasn’t enough. He rushed to the counter, grabbed a small mallet, and started smashing them with all his might. “Liam, you will not ruin my wedding! I’ll destroy your rings, and then we’ll see how you plan to crash anything!” “Ethan, are you crazy?”

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The moment my inner succubus awakened was the moment my boyfriend, Ethan, dumped me. I was a mess, crouched on the sidewalk and sobbing. But not over him. I was crying because of the ache—a deep, unfamiliar torment that had taken root in my very core. Ethan shot me an irritated look and grabbed his roommate. “Jax, can you handle her? I’ve got places to be.” Jax just grunted and nodded. He sauntered over, his shadow falling over me. “Lily,” he said, his voice low. “What’s it going to take to make you stop crying?” I clutched my skirt, terrified he’d see the fluffy white tail that had just sprouted at the base of my spine. Crap, my ears were starting to push through, too, a tingling heat spreading at my temples. Biting my lip, I could only whisper the one thing my body was screaming for. “A kiss.” Jax’s eyebrow shot up. “What kind of kiss?” I pressed my hands to my head, trying to keep my twitching ears hidden. “The kind,” I whispered, my voice trembling, “that makes everything… better.” 1 It was an agony. The newly sprouted rabbit tail was a constant, irritating presence. But worse, far worse, was the nameless, carnal tide surging within me. I wanted Ethan to kiss me, to hold me. To do… something more. But five minutes ago, he had suddenly broken up with me. At first, I was just stunned. It wasn’t until I saw Renee standing a short distance away that it all clicked into place. His unforgettable ex-girlfriend was back, ready to reclaim her territory. “Alright, Lily, I’ve said my piece. Let’s just leave it at that,” Ethan said, his patience wearing thin. He kept glancing back at Renee. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been forcing it for six months. This ‘cute’ thing you’ve got going on? It’s just not for me.” “Being with you is like… like babysitting.” “You’re adorable, you’re pretty, but you just don’t… spark that feeling for me. You know? The feeling of being in love.” “I still prefer someone like Renee. Someone with more… womanly charm.” 2 I stared at him, my mind blank, trying to find the words to defend myself. It was true, I had been childlike before. But that was because my kind—the succubi—don’t awaken into our true selves until we turn twenty. Until then, our development is almost completely arrested. Today, of all days, I had been planning to share the good news with him. I had finally grown up. I could finally wear the beautiful, sexy slip dresses I’d always dreamed of. I could finally develop the alluring curves of a woman. But I never got the chance to tell him. Instead, he’d cut me down with those hurtful words. A pang of real sadness hit me, and my eyes, true to my nature, turned red as a rabbit’s. Ethan’s frown deepened. “There you go again. Your eyes get red at the drop of a hat, like someone’s bullying you.” A fresh wave of indignation washed over me. My true form was a rabbit; we were born with red eyes. “Look, I’ve said what I needed to say. I’m leaving. You should head back to your dorm,” Ethan said, turning to go. But then, a wave of agony so intense buckled my knees. I collapsed onto the curb and started to cry. It wasn’t because of the breakup. It wasn’t because of his cruel words. It was the ache. An unbearable torment was consuming me from the inside out. The blood in my veins felt like it was boiling. My mouth was desert-dry, and my heart hammered against my ribs at a terrifying pace. My mother had told me that after a succubus comes of age, we need to feed on passion and desire to survive. The simple kisses and cuddles I’d known before were no longer enough. Our needs were ten times stronger than a normal human’s. That’s why, she’d said, it was best to be in a relationship. With, well, one or more steady, strong, and capable… boyfriends. 3 Through my tears, I looked at Ethan. He was tall and well-built. Both my mother and I had been quite satisfied with him. Just yesterday, she had given me a few… pamphlets. For my “education.” I’d studied them diligently, poring over the illustrations late into the night, which led to a series of chaotic, feverish dreams. I had woken up feeling completely drained. And now, the meal I’d been starving for had just flown the coop. Where was I supposed to find another ready-made, capable boyfriend on such short notice? Ethan watched me sob, his expression shifting from guilt to outright annoyance. He glanced back at Renee, who was losing her patience. “Ethan, are you done yet?” she yelled. “What are you doing, babysitting? Get a move on!” When Ethan spoke again, his voice was cold and hard. “Honestly, Lily, crying won’t work. I’m not going to feel sorry for you.” I bit the soft flesh of my lip, my red-rimmed eyes pleading with him. “Ethan, can we please just break up tomorrow?” Just let me get through tonight. I was terrified my rabbit ears would pop out any second. I could just imagine being captured and carted off to a lab for “live specimen research” by some shadow government agency. Ethan scoffed. “Wow, Lily. You’re really that desperate, huh?” My love for him was, in truth, quite shallow. It was purely about his looks and his physique. Time was slipping away. My body temperature was soaring, and my consciousness was starting to blur at the edges. “Ethan, I’m begging you.” “No chance.” He was clearly fed up. Just then, his eyes landed on a familiar figure, and an idea sparked. “Jax.” Ethan crossed the distance in a few strides and pulled the man over. 4 “Hey man, can you handle her for me? I’ve got a date.” Jax was wearing a hoodie, headphones around his neck. His face was stunningly handsome, but his expression was a mask of cold indifference. He was tall—taller than Ethan—with long legs and broad shoulders. As for his build… I remembered a time I went to find Ethan at his off-campus apartment. Jax had just come back from a run. He was bare-chested, wearing only a pair of light gray sweatpants. His muscles were sculpted perfection. And that… bulge. I couldn’t help but swallow. Maybe it’s just the gray fabric, I thought desperately. Maybe it just makes things look bigger. Jax took off his headphones and cast a cool, downward glance at me. My eyes immediately fixated on his hands, and I couldn’t look away. So long. I mean his fingers, of course. And so strong. I’m still talking about his fingers. That day in the apartment, I’d almost tripped and fallen off the sofa. Jax had caught me and lifted me back up with just one hand. And even though I hadn’t gone through my “second puberty” yet, I was still five-foot-three! “Never mind, forget I asked,” Ethan started, “I know you don’t like getting involved in other people’s business.” But then Jax surprised him. “Sure.” “You’ll do it?” Jax nodded, his face still an unreadable, almost ascetic mask. Ethan frowned again, but Renee was already fuming. “Ethan, if you don’t go now, I’m leaving without you!” “Alright, man, thanks. Just make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, okay?” Ethan said hurriedly. As he walked away, he cast one last look back at me. But I didn’t notice. My gaze was completely glued to Jax. 5 Ethan and Renee drove off. Jax tucked his headphones into his pocket and walked over to me. I was still a small, huddled ball on the ground, my hands wrapped behind my back, trying to hide the little bump my tail made under my skirt. Jax stood very close. I could smell him. It was completely different from Ethan’s cologne. This was a potent wave of pure pheromones, an almost overwhelming scent that acted like an aphrodisiac for my kind. My head spun. Jax looked down at me. “Lily, what’s it going to take to make you stop crying?” Oh, his voice is incredible. How had I never noticed how good his voice sounded? My mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts. I loved the way he said my name. Would it sound huskier, more seductive, when we were kissing? I felt my ears starting to tingle, threatening to emerge. I quickly pressed my hands to the sides of my head. Oh god, I’m losing control. I bit my lip and begged him. “A kiss.” 6 Jax seemed to raise a single eyebrow. “What kind of kiss?” I gnawed on my lower lip, my teeth teasing the soft flesh as I tried to remember Ethan’s kisses, tried to recall the drawings and descriptions in the pamphlets. The only way to suppress my transformation was through… satisfaction. Even though I wasn’t human, I still felt a blush creep up my neck. Covering my ears, I whispered, “The kind that makes me feel… good. Okay?” A ghost of a smile seemed to play on Jax’s lips. He leaned down, his strong, straight nose almost touching mine. “Lily.” “Yes?” “Do you have any idea what it means to ‘make you feel good’?” I blinked my red, swollen eyes. My mind was a complete blank. I couldn’t think. He was too close. His breath brushed against the tip of my nose—scorching, intense. That intoxicating scent of his enveloped me like a thick fog. My blood was officially boiling, threatening to burst from my veins. And most importantly, seeing Jax this close… he was so handsome it made my heart flutter uncontrollably. I tilted my face up and kissed him. I didn’t forget to close my eyes. Ethan had always said my eyes were too big, too innocent. He claimed it gave him a guilty conscience when we kissed, so he’d made me promise to always keep them shut. I was a good girl; I remembered that rule perfectly. Jax didn’t push me away. Instead, after a brief, charged second, he pulled me up from the ground, pinned me against a nearby tree, and took complete control. 7 Jax, it turned out, wasn’t a very experienced kisser. A few times, he accidentally bit me. I let out a small whimper to signal him. “Jax, don’t bite.” “Have you, like, never kissed a girl before?” “You’re not doing it right. Just open your mouth…” “Lily.” Jax’s scorching palm suddenly cupped the back of my neck. His breathing was ragged, a soft pant against my ear. “Again.” This time, his kiss was deep and overwhelming, as if he meant to devour me whole. My tongue grew numb under his relentless assault. My mind went blank, and my body went so limp in his arms I could barely stand. Until his large hand moved down my back and pressed against my tail. “Lily?” The haze of desire in Jax’s eyes was tinged with a faint surprise. I almost screamed. My brain, for once, worked at lightning speed. “It’s a toy! Can you, um, not touch it, please?” Jax’s hand suddenly pressed down harder. I could feel his displeasure radiating off him. “Lily,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “You’re full of surprises.” He nipped my lip gently. “Turns out you’re not so innocent after all.” 8 I had no explanation, so I just mumbled incoherently and tried to distract him. I hooked my arms around his neck, kissing his lips, his jaw, the sharp line of his throat. My goal was to get him so lost in passion that he’d forget all about my tail. It worked. Jax pulled me flush against him, crushing me into his embrace, and responded with a fierce intensity of his own. It wasn’t until twenty minutes later that I finally pushed back. “Jax… no more.” “That’s enough, my head is spinning.” “Really, no more. I feel… better now. Really. Can you please stop?” The tail had vanished, and my ears were quiet again. I tried to push the man away, desperate to get back to my dorm. I needed a shower. I needed to change my clothes, from the inside out. Everything felt uncomfortably tight, like I was about to burst. “Um, thank you. For that,” I said, clutching my aching chest and giving him a sincere bow. It was a genuine thank you. “It’s getting late, and I have an early class tomorrow. I should get going.” I turned to flee, but Jax’s hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. “You’re just leaving?” I was surprised. “Is there something else?” “You got what you wanted,” Jax said, his voice now a husky rasp that was impossibly seductive. “I didn’t.” “So… what now?” “What do you think?” I thought about it carefully. My mother had said that for the first six months after awakening, the ‘heat’ would come every other day. I needed a regular partner. I bit my lip and gave Jax a serious, appraising look. Honestly, there probably wasn’t a more suitable man out there. “Well… how about we meet again tomorrow? Same time, same place?” Jax stared at me for a long moment before nodding. “Okay. Tomorrow night. Don’t be late.” 9 None of my old clothes fit anymore, including my underwear. Thankfully, my mom had prepared new clothes for me in a larger size. The next day, before our meeting, I showered and changed into one of the new outfits. It was a form-fitting dress that clung to my new curves. I looked in the mirror and felt a little shy. My roommate suddenly ran over and pinched my side. “Holy crap, you’re not flat-chested anymore!” she shrieked. “You little sneak, what have you been eating to suddenly get so… stacked?” I couldn’t explain, of course, so I just fumbled for an excuse. “Are you wearing makeup? What shades are your eyeshadow and blush? You look so… sultry.” “I’ll share when I get back!” I called over my shoulder. The truth was, I wasn’t wearing any makeup. After the awakening, a succubus naturally becomes more beautiful. Especially after… sampling the pleasures of the flesh. Our beauty would gradually reach its peak. This was just the beginning. But as I was about to head downstairs, I felt a strange shift in my body. It was still early. Why was the reaction so intense already? I quickly pulled out the pamphlet my mom had given me. After a succubus awakens, she feeds on passion and desire. For the first three months, in particular, the need is insatiable and grows daily. If it is not satisfied, she risks exposing her true form at any time. Therefore, it is best for her and her regular partner to… go all the way. As soon as possible. I froze. I rushed downstairs. It was still early, and Jax hadn’t arrived yet. I paced around anxiously, and in my distraction, I bumped into someone. “Lily?” It was Ethan’s voice, full of surprise. 10 I was just as surprised. I quickly stepped back. “Oh, sorry about that.” “Are you here for me?” Ethan asked, his eyes wide with unconcealed astonishment as he took in my new look. “You look… really good dressed like this.” “No, I’m not here for you.” As my anxiety spiked, my eyes started to turn red again. Ethan just smiled, shaking his head with a knowing look. “Lily, I hate clingy girls. Don’t be like this.” “I’m not! I’m waiting for someone.” “Right. You wait, then. I’m leaving.” He clearly didn’t believe me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Still stubborn, I see.” He took a call from Renee and walked away. By now, I could barely stand. The ache was back, fiercer than before. I had no choice but to squat on the ground and wait. When Jax finally arrived, I scrambled to my feet with a joyful cry. “You’re here!” But my legs gave out from under me, and I almost collapsed. He quickly reached out to steady me, but I stumbled forward, my face landing right against his waistband. Oh. So it wasn’t just the gray sweatpants. My cheeks burned, and a wave of heat washed through me. “Lily, are you okay?” “Jax,” I gasped, clutching his arm. My palm was slick with sweat, my fingertips trembling. “I… I want you.” He seemed to freeze for a second. But I was already throwing myself at him, pressing my body against his. We fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, a seamless lock and key. Jax’s entire body went rigid. His Adam’s apple bobbed violently, and his jawline clenched. “Lily.” He gripped my hand, his voice a low, hoarse whisper, trying to coax me. “Be good. We can’t do it here.” 11 I didn’t understand. I snuggled into his chest and tilted my head back, my face flushed with desire, my eyes misty and filled with confusion. “Why not here?” There were trees, there was grass, and the sky was getting dark. It seemed perfect. Jax’s long fingers brushed against the side of my face, intending to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. But his skin was so much cooler than mine. It felt incredible. And his scent… that faint, crisp smell of fresh grass that we rabbits loved so much. I couldn’t resist. I couldn’t stop myself. I turned my head and gently bit his finger, my tongue darting out to taste him. It was just as delicious as I had imagined. “Lily.” Jax’s voice dropped even lower, the end of the word trembling. He frowned, trying to pull his hand back, but I held on, sinking my teeth in a little deeper. A sharp, ragged breath escaped his lips, a low groan from deep in his throat. “You’re a girl,” he rasped. “You can’t… do this.” He finally managed to pull his hand free, his knuckles now marked with the faint imprint of my teeth. He glanced at it for a second before looking away, but I saw his throat work again, a hard swallow. The body pressed against mine grew even hotter, his muscles coiling tight. “Are you sick? Should I take you to a hospital?” he asked, his voice strained as he reached up to feel my forehead. “I’m not sick, Jax.” I grabbed his wrist, my voice a soft, pleading whisper. “What can’t a girl do?” He looked down at me, his deep eyes swirling with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. “You can’t just throw yourself at a man.” “You can’t chase after him, begging for kisses.” “And you definitely can’t press yourself against him like this.” “Why not?” I asked again. Animal instincts are simple. When you’re hungry, you eat. When you’re tired, you sleep. And when you’re in heat, you find a mate. Anytime, anywhere. Why were humans so complicated? “Lily, you’re a girl…” he started, frowning. I suddenly pushed him away. “I get it.” “What do you get?” “You don’t like me,” I said, a wave of frustration and disappointment washing over me. “You’re just like Ethan. You don’t want to kiss me or hold me.” I hated that my true form was a stupid, clumsy rabbit. Not like my sister, a glamorous and bewitching white fox. She could make any man in the world fall at her feet. Unfortunately, my sister was a rare anomaly in our clan—a hopeless romantic, completely and utterly lost to the idea of love. “Since you don’t like me, I won’t bother you anymore,” I said, my voice flat. 12 I took a step back. Looking at Jax, I felt a pang of regret. He really did look delicious. But you can’t force someone to want you. And I couldn’t wait. I didn’t have any more time. I had to find another guy. I remembered Ethan had a friend in a lower year. Every time he saw me, his eyes would light up. He definitely wouldn’t mind if I kissed and hugged him. Plus, he was a great athlete. Going all the way would surely be no problem for him. My mind made up, I decided to act immediately. “Well, I’m going to go find someone else. I’m sorry about yesterday and today.” I gave Jax a quick bow and turned to leave. But he was faster. His hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. “Lily.” He loomed over me, his handsome lips pressed into a thin, tight line. Why was he so angry all of a sudden? I looked up at him, confused. “Jax, is there something else?” “Who are you going to find?” he demanded. “Let me guess: if Ethan had dragged some other guy over yesterday, you would have asked him to kiss you until you felt better, too?” I immediately shook my head. “Of course not!” The harsh lines of his face seemed to soften, just a fraction. “He’d have to be tall and handsome, at least,” I added honestly. “I’m very superficial.” “Lily!” He was angry again, his expression frighteningly cold. I shrank back, intimidated. And just then, my tail popped out. Alarms blared in my head. Today’s dress was skintight; there was nothing to hide it. I was on the verge of tears. Without thinking, I threw myself back into Jax’s arms. “Jax, I’m out of time,” I cried, my voice desperate. “I’m just going to ask you one more time.” I bit my lip and looked up at him, my eyes shimmering with a raw, seductive plea. “Will you, or will you not, go all the way with me?” My veins are going to explode. Please. Don’t say no again. Honestly, I really didn’t want to find another guy. Jax slowly raised his hand. His long, elegant fingers cupped my scorching cheeks. In the twilight, his handsome face was like a beautifully carved piece of jade, glowing with a cool light. But the emotions churning in his eyes were dead serious. “I only do those things with my future wife.” “Then can I be your wife?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could even think. Jax stared at me for a long, silent moment. Then, a slow smile spread across his lips. “Okay.”

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For three hundred years, I walked the Path of Apathy, yet I fell in love with every man I met. The serene Hierophant, my stern Archmage mentor, my aloof senior knight, a roguish Warlock… But none of them wanted me. So, I decided to stop torturing myself and joined the Crimson Cabal, a coven dedicated to pleasure. But just as I was about to initiate my first carnal rite, the Hierophant himself dragged me from a bed draped in scarlet silk. A moment later, I found myself facing four pairs of eyes, all burning with a chilling frost. 1 The senior knight was the third man I’d fallen for. When I confessed my feelings to him, my Archmage mentor was standing right behind me. I shyly offered the knight an embroidered pouch I’d spent three days working on. His face remained a mask of cold indifference. “Sister, your focus should be on your training, not on matters of the heart.” Hearing this, I snatched the pouch back. If you don’t want it, I’ll save it for the next one. This embroidery stuff is hard work. “I understand, Brother,” I said, turning to leave. That’s when I saw my mentor, his face as dark as a thundercloud. His eyes were fixed on the pouch in my hand. I instinctively tried to hide it behind my back. Just two days ago, I had used this very same pouch to confess my feelings to him. Now, here I was, offering it to the knight, with my mentor as a witness. It was, to put it mildly, awkward. “Cora,” my mentor’s voice was quiet, but it sent a shiver down my spine. “If you continue this behavior, you will no longer have a place in this Order.” If I were cast out, I wouldn’t be able to see him or the knight every day. Even if I couldn’t have them, just seeing them was something. My knees went weak, and I dropped to the ground, my voice catching in a sob. “Master, I won’t do it again! Please don’t send me away!” A flicker of emotion crossed his face. “This time, I will let it go. Give me the pouch.” Reluctantly, I handed over the pouch that had now been offered to three different men. A faint pulse of magic emanated from his hand, and the product of my three days and nights of labor disintegrated into dust. Fine, I thought. I’ll just make another one. The senior knight was the third man to reject me. The first had been the serene Hierophant from the neighboring Sanctum. I had walked the Path of Apathy for three hundred years, but the first sight of him shattered my resolve. My only desire was to claim him. But he was just an oblivious holy man. I tried to seduce him in the sacred springs, wearing nothing but a sheer, gossamer wrap. I could have sworn I saw a faint blush creep up his bare, tonsured head. But he just squeezed his eyes shut, pressed his palms together, and chanted, “Lady Cora, please, conduct yourself with dignity.” His piety only fanned the flames of my desire. I moved closer, a dance of advance and retreat. I could feel his breath quicken, his eyelashes flutter. “Why not just surrender to me?” I whispered in his ear. “The Light guide me,” he murmured, before practically fleeing the springs. His wet robes clung to his body, revealing the faint outline of a perfectly sculpted torso. The image haunted me for days. I told this story to the proprietress of the tavern at the foot of the mountain. She burst out laughing. “Little enchantress, with your inclinations, you should have joined my Crimson Cabal.” I took a long swig of wine. “But I already have an Order.” 2 After being rejected by the knight, I found myself back at the tavern. The proprietress greeted me at the door. “Rejected again, little one?” My face fell as I nodded. She shooed away the other patrons and brought a flagon of wine to my table. “If you were to join my Crimson Cabal,” she said, her long, slender fingers, tipped with red lacquer, tilting my chin up, “no man in this world could refuse you.” I looked into her eyes, and my heart skipped a beat. Oh no. I think I’m in love with the proprietress, too. A moment later, clarity returned. “You see,” she purred, “that is the power of our secret arts.” I was tempted. But I couldn’t betray my mentor, my Order. When I first joined, I was just a child. He had told me I would be his only apprentice. I shook my head. The proprietress seemed to see my hesitation. She smiled. “Little enchantress, you’ll be back.” 3 When I returned to the Order, I saw my mentor standing before the Alchemist’s Spire, his white robes stained with blood. My heart seized. He was injured? But he was an Archmage of the highest circle. There were few in the world who could harm him. “Master, you’re hurt?” He glanced at me and shook his head, but his eyes were filled with worry. It was only then that I noticed that despite the blood, there were no wounds on his body. The injured person must be someone else. Just then, the head Alchemist emerged from the Spire. “It’s a good thing you shielded her heart with your magic,” the Alchemist said. “Otherwise, not even the Archons could have saved her.” My mentor finally let out a breath of relief. “Cora, go back to your quarters. Don’t cause trouble here.” I stared at him, dumbfounded. I was just standing here. How was I causing trouble? As he hurried inside, I grabbed the Alchemist’s arm. “Who is in there?” “A mortal woman. They say she saved Lord Kael’s life. A benefactor of the Order.” My mentor was an Archmage. How could a mortal woman have saved him? Filled with doubt, I returned to my chambers. My own training had been neglected for far too long. The Path of Apathy was not for me. I spent days in seclusion, trying to recapture the focus I once had, but it was gone. Finally, I stormed out of my chambers and went straight to my mentor’s hall. “Master!” The hall was empty. I went out into the courtyard. There, under a pear tree, I saw him playing a game of stones with a woman. The look he gave her was one I had never seen before. When he looked at me, it was always with severity, with disappointment. Never with such tenderness. I broke the piercing silence. “Master, who is she?” He looked up at me. “Cora, do not be rude. This is my savior, Elara.” So this was the mortal woman. She turned and smiled at me. “Cora thanks you for saving the Master’s life,” I said, giving a small bow. Then I rushed to my mentor’s side. “This is my apprentice, Cora. She is also your senior sister,” he said to Elara, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sister,” Elara’s voice was gentle and melodic, but it grated on my ears. I looked at my mentor and, for the first time, threw a tantrum. “Why didn’t you tell me? You said I would be your only apprentice.” “Do not be insolent,” he snapped, his eyes filled with disapproval. I knelt before him. “Master, please, take back your decree.” “My decisions are final.” “Master…” Elara chimed in. “If Sister Cora is unwilling, I can go to another Spire. It’s just… without you nearby, I would be frightened.” I ignored her saccharine words, stubbornly remaining on my knees. “She is simply undisciplined,” my mentor said, taking Elara’s arm. “That is why she has grown so wild.” And with that, he led her away. I knelt on the cold stone, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. 4 I was just a child when he saved me from a beast’s maw. I clung to him for three years before he finally relented and took me as his apprentice, promising that I would be his only one. I had cherished that promise for three hundred years. I shed my magical protections, letting my mortal body bear the full weight of my vigil on the cold, hard flagstones. That night, snow began to fall. The flakes melted the moment they touched my skin. I knelt there for three days. He never came to see me. In those three days, he held a grand initiation ceremony for Elara. It was an honor I had never received. On the third night, I used my sword to pull myself to my feet. The senior knight was standing behind me. “Sister, don’t be willful.” He reached out to help me, but I dodged his hand. He was the one who broke his promise first. I limped down the mountain into the blizzard, letting the skills and spells he had taught me dissipate one by one. Just before I lost consciousness, I knocked on the proprietress’s door. When I awoke, the chill was gone, replaced by the sweet, cloying fragrance of a woman’s chambers. I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my body. The proprietress’s voice came from behind the bed hangings. “Don’t move yet. Your legs were nearly crippled. You need to rest.” I looked down at my numb legs as the memories flooded back. “Mistress,” I said, “I want to learn the arts of the Crimson Cabal.” She laughed. “To cast aside three hundred years of magic just like that… you are a cruel one, little enchantress, even to yourself.” For three hundred years, I had trained day and night, just to avoid seeing disappointment in his eyes. The hardships I had endured were far worse than this. The image of his gaze on Elara flashed in my mind, and a bitter smile touched my lips. My three hundred years meant less than her few days. Once I recovered, I stayed at the tavern. I helped the proprietress with the guests and practiced my new arts. Within three months, my power had already surpassed the level I had reached after three hundred years on the Path of Apathy. Even the proprietress praised me as a once-in-a-millennium talent. Whenever she did, I would smile shyly and ask, “So, when can I perform my first rite?” “Have you found someone who stirs your heart?” I shook my head. In my time at the tavern, I had seen many handsome and powerful men, but none had moved me. “Then wait a little longer.” I was confused. Why did I have to wait for someone I desired? Was that a requirement for the Cabal’s rites? The proprietress beckoned me closer and whispered in my ear, “A carnal rite, at its core, is a matter of passion. Naturally, you should choose someone you desire. That is where the pleasure lies.” I nodded, not quite understanding. It was a pity. I hadn’t felt that spark in a long time. Until the day I saw the Warlock, Zephyr, dressed in crimson robes. And following him was none other than the Hierophant, Lyren. My heart, after a long silence, began to beat again. 5 When he saw me, Lyren looked away, pretending not to know me. “Wine!” the man in red called out. I brought over two flagons of the tavern’s strongest brew. Lyren looked incredibly uncomfortable as I approached, his eyes darting away. He made it seem as if there was some sordid secret between us, when all I had done was confess my feelings to him in the sacred springs. He had refused, and I had let it go. My target today was the man in red sitting across from him. I placed the wine on the table and filled a cup for him. My new skills were still untested, and as I poured, I unconsciously used the same subtle enchantment the proprietress had used on me. I saw his gaze grow hazy with fascination, and a sense of triumph swelled within me. The arts of the Crimson Cabal were indeed effective. The next moment, a strong hand pulled me away, and I let out a small cry. Lyren dragged me into the back courtyard before releasing me. “You are a disciple of the Order of Light. How can you practice these seductive, dark arts?” I was baffled. You can sit and drink with a Warlock, but you condemn my magic as dark? “I am no longer a disciple of the Order of Light,” I said coldly. It had been three months since I left. My mentor had never once tried to contact me. Instead, he had announced to the world that he was taking Elara as his final apprentice. I no longer wanted to be his disciple. It was a position I had begged for, and now, I no longer wanted it. Lyren’s eyes widened. “Do you know that desertion is a grave crime?” I shrugged. There was no one left in the Order for me to care about. If Kael ever came for me with his sword drawn, I would meet him with my own, and I would fight with all my strength. “Don’t tell the Order you saw me here. Otherwise, I’ll tell the world you saw me naked in the springs.” Lyren’s face flushed again. “I am not a gossip. But your presence here will not remain a secret for long, with or without my help.” Seeing that blush on his usually serene face sparked a wicked thought, but I suppressed it, mentally chanting a few prayers. A strange sense of morality surfaced. It was probably best not to mess with a holy man. But the thought of pulling the serene Hierophant from his pedestal was so tempting. I swallowed hard. Lyren seemed to notice and immediately adopted a posture of someone trying to avoid a venomous snake. Just then, the man in red, Zephyr, came looking for him. His tone was lazy, teasing. “Master Lyren, you were gone for so long. Were you having a secret tryst with a lover?” A new target. I shifted my attention from Lyren. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is a disciple of the Order of…” Lyren’s words trailed off as he remembered I had left. “Oh? The lady is of the Order of Light?” I walked over to him, my smile sultry. “I am no ‘lady’ of the Order.” Zephyr caught the hand I had placed on his chest. I feigned a cry of pain. “You’re hurting me.” “Your mannerisms,” he said with a faint smile, “are quite similar to those of my own kind.” To my eyes, he only grew more alluring. I realized, with a start, that I had fallen into his trap. When he looked at me, he had been using the same enchantment I had used on him. His earlier look of fascination had been a performance to fool me. Outplayed, I felt a surge of anger and stormed away.

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Everyone in the palace knew that for a scrap of food, you could make the slow-witted princess do anything. The Grand Tutor, a man as radiant and pure as the moon, once gave me a small cake. For that single kindness, I trailed after him for years. Though he never showed it openly, in private he was disgusted by me, calling me shameless, so desperate I would throw myself onto any man’s bed. I didn’t know what “shameless” or “throwing myself onto a bed” meant. I only knew that the Tutor gave me delicious things to eat. He was a good person. I liked him, and I wanted to repay his kindness. Then, news of a devastating military defeat came from the Northern Marches. My father’s most beloved daughter, the Third Princess, was to be sent away in a political marriage to seal a truce. The Duchess, the Third Princess’s mother and the King’s most favored mistress, came to me herself. She brought a whole box of marzipan sweets and begged me to take her daughter’s place. I wiped the crumbs from my lips and gave a careless wave of my hand. “Your Grace need not worry. It’s just a marriage, isn’t it? If my sister doesn’t want to go, I’ll go for her.” 1. It was only when the guards at the King’s Solar blocked my path that I realized I might have agreed too easily. My father, the King, seemed to have forgotten he even had a daughter like me, so naturally, the royal guards refused to announce my presence. But the Duchess had given me an entire box of almond cakes. If I failed, wouldn’t I have eaten her gift for nothing? I scratched my head, and then an idea sparked. I turned and shouted toward the heavy oak doors of the study. “Father! Father! It’s Sixteen! Open the door!” A guard roared, “Insolence! This is the King’s Solar! How dare a wisp of a girl like you cause such a ruckus!” They leveled their pikes, about to drive me away. I scrambled to my feet and took off, running in circles around the grand entrance, yelling as I went. “Father! Father! It’s Sixteen! Sixteen has business with you!” “Who is making that dreadful noise!?” The doors to the Solar were suddenly thrown open, and a group of men strode out. The Duchess had told me what to look for: my father would be wearing gold, embroidered with a great wyvern. I spotted him instantly. Panting for breath, I waved at him. “Father, please tell them to stop chasing me. Sixteen is about to die of exhaustion.” The King waved a dismissive hand, and the guards retreated. He frowned down at me. “You are Sixteen? Which Sixteen?” I dropped to my knees with a thud, bowing my head twice before answering in a clear, bright voice. “Sixteen lives in the east wing of the Saltwind Hall. My mother was the Lady Linnea.” “Which Lady Linnea?” An old chamberlain beside him leaned in and whispered, “She was a handmaiden to the late Queen, Your Majesty. She displeased you on her first night in your service and was never summoned again. The princess she bore was… never given a formal name.” 2. A lady-in-waiting who lived in the west wing of Saltwind Hall once told me my mother had been a lamp-lighter in the Queen’s own chambers. When the Queen fell ill, the King, staying in her wing, had simply pointed to a handmaiden to serve him for the night. My mother, who was chosen, was devastated. She was only a year away from being released from service. Her betrothed was a guard in the palace. They were deeply in love, planning to marry the moment she was free. She begged the King to spare her. Her pleas only enraged him. He took her by force, then tossed her aside with the minor title of ‘Lady’ and banished her to Saltwind Hall, which was no better than a dungeon. Even when she carried me for ten months and gave birth, he never once came to see us. He never even gave me a name. The King still didn’t seem to remember which one was Lady Linnea, or which was Princess Sixteen. He smiled, a false, glittering thing. “Little Sixteen, what business do you have with your father?” “I want to get married!” I looked up at him and smiled back. “Sixteen is all grown up! I can get married now!” The somber mood in the Solar instantly dissolved into booming laughter. The King pulled me to my feet, ruffling my hair as if I were his most cherished daughter. “And who does my Little Sixteen wish to marry? Shall your father arrange it for you?” The old chamberlain chimed in playfully, “I’ve heard that Princess Sixteen is quite close with the Lord Tutor, Lucian.” The King’s eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise. “Little Sixteen, you fancy Lord Lucian?” Across the room, Lucian’s face changed. He pressed his lips into a thin line, his scorching gaze fixed on me. He looked… nervous. He was probably terrified I would say yes. I always knew that Lucian didn’t like me. He was a good man, though. We met because he helped me. One winter, he found me being forced to crawl on all fours like a dog by a few cruel pages, all for a handful of charcoal. He dealt with them harshly and left me with all the silver he had in his purse. I already knew who he was. He was the tutor to my elder brother, the Crown Prince, and my third sister, Princess Isadora. He often came to the palace to instruct them. Because the servants all called me “Sixteen the Simpleton,” I was determined to become clever. A blind laundress told me that reading books could make one smart, so I would often squeeze through a hole in the wall to listen from behind the hedges as Lucian taught the prince and princess in the gardens. He taught so beautifully. But I was too dull. After all those lessons, I only remembered a single line: This world a fleeting dream, our lives but winter’s briefest gleam. I was afraid I would forget it, so I stitched the words into the lining of my warmest tunic, turning it over to read them from time to time. I thought that one day, I would ask Lucian what the poem meant. But not long after, Lucian, who would sometimes bring me little things, suddenly began to despise me. It was during a palace feast. A few dissolute young nobles found me in the gardens, likely mistaking me for a witless servant girl. They offered me a plate of pastries to recite some lewd verses. One of them even asked if I wanted to be his courtesan, saying I’d be well-fed and warmly dressed if I went with him. I didn’t know what a courtesan was. But being well-fed and warm had been my greatest dream for over a decade. I looked at him with shining eyes and asked when he would take me with him. Lucian must have seen it. He dragged me away, his grip so tight I thought my bones would shatter. When I struggled, he shoved me from him, his voice thick with fury. “You are a princess of this kingdom! How can you debase yourself so? Fawning over any man who shows you the slightest attention, practically throwing yourself at him! A princess of this kingdom should model herself after Princess Isadora—proud, unyielding, the equal of any man!” I stood frozen by his tirade, tears streaming down my face, utterly bewildered and too scared to move. I didn’t understand why he was so angry. This was how my mother had kept me alive. After she died, this was how I had kept myself alive. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing wrong with it. Especially after the war started, our situation grew even more desperate. We did far worse things. The Queen had ordered the palace to be frugal, but that frugality was taken from the rations of unfavored consorts and their children. Our monthly allowances were skimmed at every level, leaving us with almost nothing. If a favored lady ran short of charcoal or some other luxury, we were the ones who suffered. Reciting a few bawdy lines? If it could earn me a bowl of soup or a few lumps of coal, I would have gladly recited them a thousand times a day. But Lucian’s reaction told me, for the first time, that perhaps it was wrong. I didn’t know what to say. I just wiped at my tears. Seeing my silence, he stormed away in bitter disappointment. He never brought me anything again. And so, I continued to live as I always had, curled up in the cold, forgotten Saltwind Hall, surviving day by day. I endured the teasing and torment of the pages and maids, and felt a surge of joy if I managed to snatch a piece of meat from a dog’s bowl. 3. One day, I was discovered eavesdropping on Lucian’s lesson. The guards beat me half to death. It was my third sister, Princess Isadora, who saved me. She gave me medicine for my wounds. A life saved is a debt greater than heaven itself. I had to repay her. Now, with the northern army defeated, the chieftain of the Vargan tribes was demanding tribute. He had once been a political hostage in our kingdom, and his time here had been miserable. He was a savage, bloodthirsty man. He had escaped back to his homeland with half a breath left in his body, killed his own father, and then led his warriors straight for our borders. He had conquered fifty-eight towns in the Marches, his sword pointed at the capital itself. He declared he didn’t want the throne; he wanted a princess of our kingdom. Almost everyone assumed that our most dazzling princess, Isadora, would be the one sent. The Duchess told me that the news had made Isadora unable to eat or sleep, and she had fallen gravely ill. The King had convened his council for three days and three nights, but with our best generals wounded or dead, not a single nobleman dared to ride out and face the Vargans. There was no choice but to send the princess. Helpless, the Duchess came to me with a box of almond cakes, begging me to go in Isadora’s place. I asked the Duchess if there would be good food if I got married. She hesitated for a moment, then said there would be not only good food, but beautiful clothes and jewels. What a bargain! My spirits soared. I wiped the crumbs from my mouth, puffed out my chest, and declared with bravado, “Your Grace need not worry. It’s just a marriage, isn’t it? If my sister doesn’t want to go, I’ll go for her.” But if my father made me marry Lucian, I would be breaking my promise! I waved my hands frantically. “No, no, that’s not it! Sixteen doesn’t want to marry the Tutor. Sixteen wants to marry the Chieftain of the Vargans, Kaelen… Kaelen…” Oh, dear. What did the Duchess say his full name was? The old chamberlain whispered, “Kaelen Vargan.” I shot him a grateful look and shouted, “Sixteen wants to marry Kaelen Vargan!” My voice must have been too loud, because it seemed to stun everyone in the hall. They all stared at me in disbelief. “Absolutely not!” Lucian suddenly stepped forward, his robes sweeping the floor as he knelt in a deep bow. When he looked up, his face was ashen. “The princess is young and naive, she does not yet comprehend the meaning of marriage! Your Majesty, I implore you to reconsider!” The King toyed with a jade ring on his thumb, his eyes fixed on Lucian. He smiled. “Lord Lucian, our Little Sixteen may be a child, but she is a clever one. I am fond of this child, and so I shall grant her wish.” With a grand wave of his hand, he issued the decree. “Let it be proclaimed: Princess Sixteen has shown great virtue and nobility. In response to the envoy from the Vargan Dominion, who comes seeking a bride for their Chieftain, she is hereby granted the title of Sun-Blessed and shall be afforded the honors of a Royal Duke. She will be wed to the Vargan Chieftain to seal the peace between our two nations.” Not only that, but my father also decreed that Lucian would marry my third sister, Princess Isadora, the very next month. Lucian’s face was deathly pale, but in front of everyone, he had no choice but to give thanks and accept the royal command. All I could think about was my new palace chambers. I couldn’t wait to see them. 4. This political marriage was the best thing ever! After leaving the King’s Solar, I hugged the royal decree to my chest, giggling foolishly as I walked. A little way down the path, I saw Lucian standing there, his face a cold mask, his eyes dark pools of ink. A knot of fear tightened in my stomach. I turned to run, but he caught me in an instant. “Do you have any idea what this means? No one even remembered you existed, why did you have to leap forward and volunteer? Do you think this is a child’s game!?” He gripped my wrist, dragging me back toward the King’s Solar like a petulant child. “Come with me to see the King. Tell him you don’t want to go.” “No!” I wrenched my hand from his grasp. “I want to go! I don’t want to stay here! I hate you! I hate this place!” “You’re about to marry my sister, what are you doing meddling with me!” Tears streamed down my face. I sobbed, “No one here cares about Sixteen! Sixteen is leaving, far, far away, and never coming back!” Lucian froze, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out. Taking advantage of his stupor, I tore my hand away and ran for my life. The moment I saw my new chambers, I forgot everything else. The room was warm, with no drafts, no rats, and no snakes. And on the table, there was a plate of peach blossom pastries! Sinking into the soft bed, I sighed in contentment once more. “Getting married is the best!” 5. My wedding day was set for before my sister’s, but the preparations were happening at the same time. I heard Isadora had thrown terrible tantrums. My father had her confined to her rooms, to be released only on her wedding day. Lucian never returned to the palace. He even stopped attending the morning council sessions. I paid no mind to the outside world, content to lounge in my new chambers all day. I woke up to eat all sorts of delicacies, eating until I had gained a noticeable amount of weight. On the day of my departure, I was woken at dawn to be washed and dressed. A red wedding gown was draped over me, a veil covered my face, and I was pushed into a carriage adorned with red silk ribbons. “Aren’t Father and Mother coming?” Weren’t you supposed to bid farewell to your parents when you got married? Were they still asleep? I lifted the curtain and peered out. A light, misty rain was falling in the pre-dawn gloom. The courtyard was empty. There wasn’t a soul in sight. “The Duchess said she would come see me off, too. Why isn’t she here?” The old matron escorting me yanked the curtain shut. “Time is short, we’re already late,” she said with a forced smile. “His Majesty is a busy man, so he ordered us to depart first.” Of course. Weddings had auspicious times. We couldn’t be late! “Father is busy. The Duchess is busy, too. Sixteen understands.” I sat up straight, lowered my veil, and when I spoke again, my voice was thick with emotion. “It’s alright. Sixteen will be good. Matron, let’s go.” I had wanted to ask my father if he could give me a proper name. Being called Sixteen forever wasn’t a solution. Hiding under my red veil, my cheeks burned, and so did my eyes. “Sixteen will be good. Sixteen won’t miss home, and I won’t miss my mother.” I used a corner of the veil to dry my tears, then forced a smile. Mother, Sixteen is getting married. And to the mightiest Vargan Chieftain. They say he’s very rich. When Sixteen becomes his Queen, I’ll burn paper money for you every day, so you can feast and live in luxury in the underworld. Even the God of Death will have to give you massages! 6. The spring rain fell like silk, drawing a stark, bloody curtain across the stone courtyard in front of the Lucian family’s ancestral hall. Lucian knelt, his head bowed, his inner shirt already soaked through with blood. A single crimson raindrop clung to his dark, raven-wing lashes. It looked like a tear of blood. The thorny whip sliced through the air, cleaving the rain with a whistling shriek before landing hard on Lucian’s slender back. His face was pale, but he remained as still as a pine tree, kneeling in silence. His youngest sister couldn’t bear to watch any longer. She threw herself at her father’s feet, crying and begging. “Father! Please, no more! My brother knows his mistake! He knows!” Lord Lucian gripped the whip, veins bulging on his arm. He stared at his most brilliant son and roared, “Even now, you still intend to refuse the Third Princess and run off to join the army!?” Lucian slowly raised his head. Though he was weak, his voice was steady and strong. “Yes. I will join the army. I will go to the borderlands and see for myself how these Vargans, who once groveled at our kingdom’s feet, have become so fearsome that they’ve left our entire court of nobles paralyzed, forcing us to sacrifice an innocent, helpless girl for a mockery of peace!” “You insolent whelp, hold your tongue!” Enraged, his father kicked him squarely in the chest. Lucian fell backward, his body hitting the stone ground with a heavy thud. The world blurred. He thought he saw the little girl again, smiling at him, holding a pastry as if it were a priceless treasure and saying thank you. She knew nothing. A single cake was enough to win her over. Such a pure, innocent girl. She had never enjoyed a single privilege of her title, never even had a name. Why, when it came to the final hour, did she, who had fought so hard just to live, have to be the one sent to her death? In the pouring rain, Lucian closed his eyes, a sob catching in his throat. …

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1 On our anniversary, my wife—who never cooked—made a feast. With each bite, Lydia took notes, asking detailed questions. She left to take a call. I recognized Mark’s ringtone. Flipping through her notebook, I found: “Green beans undercooked—Mark won’t like them.” “Mushrooms too salty—use less for Mark.” “Lamb too gamey—try beef for Mark.” Lydia returned, furious. “Daniel, you’ve got no manners!” A sudden headache hit. My vision blurred. “Lydia, the beans… I think they’re raw—” She scribbled: “Cook longer for Mark.” Then she left. “You’re strong. Take medicine if sick.” Collapsing, I called her. “What’s the big deal?” she snapped. “Call me when you’re dead!” I never will. With my last strength, I dialed the ambulance. It turns out, sometimes an ambulance is more reliable than she is. The doctor said I had been poisoned by both the green beans and the mushrooms. I was lucky they brought me in when they did. A few more minutes, and I wouldn’t be lying safely in this hospital bed. As I lay there, an IV drip in my arm, my phone buzzed. I picked it up. It was Lydia. “Daniel, do you think stir-fried beef is better with onions or without?” Her question caught me off guard. I managed a weak, bitter smile. “Lydia, I’m in the hospital.” Her voice was impatient. “Okay, fine. Get them to prescribe you something.” Then, she immediately returned to her original question. “Just tell me, with onions or without?” Before I could answer, I heard a man’s voice in the background. “Lydia, darling, as long as you’re the one making it, I’ll love it either way.” The line went dead. I stared at the blank screen. Two messages popped up. “A last-minute project came up at the office. I have to work late. I’ll be back tomorrow.” “Since you’re at the hospital, just get some extra medicine. If you need money, I’ll transfer you some.” The words on the screen felt like a fist clenching around my heart. A last-minute project? Just get some extra medicine? Could a person be this utterly indifferent? This time, I simply put the phone down. I didn’t reply. I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. The patient in the next bed was a little girl. Seeing me alone, she toddled over, propped her chin on my bed, and looked at me with wide, curious eyes. “Mister, why are you all by yourself?” “When my daddy was in the hospital, my mommy was always with him. Where’s your wife, mister?” I looked at the innocent little face. “My wife?” I said softly. “I don’t have a wife.” The little girl shot up, planting her hands on her hips, her face puffed up in indignation. “You’re lying! I saw! You have a picture of you and a pretty lady in your phone case! It’s your wedding picture!” “Grown-ups aren’t supposed to lie! Your nose will get super long!” “Mister, your wife is so pretty! Can I see the picture? Please?” Her words made me pause. In all our years together, the only photo Lydia and I had was the one tucked into my phone case. She always said she hated having her picture taken, so that single shot from our civil ceremony was all we had. 2 The little girl’s mother, sensing the awkwardness, quickly pulled her daughter back, offering me an apologetic smile. “Kids, you know how they are. Please don’t mind her.” I waved a hand, saying nothing. I picked up my phone and started scrolling aimlessly. The first thing I saw was a post from Mark, uploaded just a minute ago. It was a screenshot of Lydia’s social media feed, with the caption: “Loving you is the best choice I’ve ever made.” Seeing the post, I froze. My fingers trembling, I clicked on Lydia’s profile. As always, her posts were set to be visible for only three days. There was nothing there. An idea struck me. On a whim, I logged into my secondary, anonymous account and searched for her profile again. And there it was. I saw everything. Her latest post was from ten minutes ago. Two pictures. One was a selfie of her and Mark, their faces pressed together. The other was a photo of a table laden with food. It was the exact same meal she had made for me today. The caption read: “Happy Birthday. For you, I’d do anything.” And pinned to the top of her profile was a photo of her and Mark against a plain red background—a formal portrait, like one taken for official documents. It was dated three years ago. I pulled our own wedding photo from my phone case and compared them. The contrast was stark. In her photo with Mark, Lydia was smiling, her face soft and gentle. In ours, her expression was one of sheer annoyance. We had even argued that day. My hand shook as I scrolled through her feed, post after post. She updated it almost daily, sometimes several times a day. I clicked on one photo. Lydia and Mark, kissing under a sky full of fireworks. I remembered that night. It was New Year’s Eve. I had waited for her for hours in the town square, holding a bouquet of flowers, only to get a text saying she had to work late and that I should go to bed. We were in the same square that night. On one side, me, freezing in the cold, clutching flowers. On the other, them, wrapped in a passionate embrace. I clicked on another photo. Lydia and Mark, kissing at the very top of a Ferris wheel. I remembered that day, too. I had a high fever and had called her, begging her to bring me some medicine. It took her forever to answer. In the end, she brought me a box of antacids. Now I understood. She hadn’t bought them for me. She had just grabbed a box for me while buying them for Mark. My eyes blurring, I clicked on another. The two of them, taking Mark’s dog to the vet. I will never forget that day. My grandmother was on her deathbed. With her last breaths, she held my hand and said she wanted to see my wife one last time. I called Lydia again and again. When she finally answered, her voice was sharp with impatience. “I have a work emergency. I’m out of town on business. What do you want me to do? I can’t possibly make it back.” It turned out, when she took that call, she was at the pet hospital right across the street from the human one. As I scrolled through the endless feed, my heart grew colder and colder. All my trust, all my understanding, had been met with nothing but lies. A message from Mark popped up on my phone. “Hey Daniel, sorry, Lydia and I were just having dinner. Just remembered you went to the hospital. Lydia asked me to send you some money for medicine.” “She said if I didn’t, you’d probably throw a tantrum. Here, you should take this.” I stared at the ten-dollar transfer from Mark, a bitter smile twisting my lips. I hit ‘decline.’ “No thanks. You should keep it. Buy yourself a nice birthday present.” “After all, that’s about what you’re worth.” Less than a minute after I sent the message, my phone rang. It was Lydia. The second I answered, she started screaming. “Daniel, what is wrong with you?” 3 “It was Mark’s idea to send you money for medicine! If you’re not going to be grateful, fine, but what’s with the sarcastic attitude?” “I’m putting him on the phone right now, and you are going to apologize. It’s his birthday. Don’t you dare ruin it for him!” Listening to her accusations, I managed a weak laugh. “Lydia, why should I apologize?” “You think you’re in the right, Daniel?” “What has gotten into you? You know Mark grew up poor! How could you use money to mock him like that?” “Daniel, you are going to apologize to Mark. Right now!” When I remained silent, her voice grew hysterical. “Fine! You won’t apologize, is that it?” “Then you can forget about ever using a penny of my money again! You think you’re too good for the money Mark sent you?” “When you’ve decided to apologize to Mark, then I’ll consider forgiving you! You can just sit there and think about what you’ve done!” Before I could say another word, she hung up. Less than ten minutes later, I received notifications that all of my bank cards had been frozen by Lydia. I lay in the hospital bed, staring out the window, a bitter taste in my mouth. The little girl from the next bed looked at me, blinking her big eyes. “Mister, did you have a fight with the pretty lady?” she asked sympathetically. “Mister, what did you do wrong? Why is she so mean?” I smiled faintly. “Sometimes, a person can do nothing wrong, and in someone else’s eyes, they are still wrong.” The little girl looked at me, completely baffled. “I don’t get it.” “All I know is, my mommy says being happy and free is the most important thing!” Her words hit me like a physical blow. I stared at her, stunned. Yes. Being happy and free is the most important thing. I turned my head to look out the window again, my eyes filled with a profound loneliness. I must have been exhausted, because I drifted off to sleep. I was woken by a nurse telling me I needed to pay for my continued stay. I handed her my bank card, then remembered they had all been frozen. I forced a smile. “It’s alright. I’ll be checking out today.” “Hey, mister, you’re leaving already?” The little girl from the next bed bounced in, holding a small robot that looked strangely familiar. “Little one, where did you get that robot?” “This? Oh, a nice lady’s husband is in the hospital. She gave one to all of us kids so we would be quiet and not bother him.” “Do you like it, mister? If you really like it, you can have it!” “Hey, that’s weird. That nice lady looks a lot like the lady in your phone case…” With every word she spoke, my heart grew colder. When she said the last sentence, I felt my legs give way. I stumbled backward, collapsing onto the bed, my face pale. I knew that robot all too well. After Lydia and I got together, we had dedicated ourselves to developing a highly sensitive, specialized medical robot. It had been our shared dream for years. The project was born out of a terrible fear: I might carry a rare, genetic disease that ran in my family. Lydia, her eyes red with tears, had told me, “I have the company, you have the technical skill. Together, we’ll build a robot that can detect genetic diseases with perfect accuracy. You’re going to live a long, long life.” For years, I had poured everything I had into it. A year ago, I finally succeeded. The thing about this highly sensitive robot was that once it was activated, it could never be reset to its initial state. I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to test the prototypes. There were only a handful of them. And now, Lydia had given them all away. Snapping back to reality, I grabbed my phone with a shaking hand and called her. It rang for a long time before she answered, her voice impatient. “What? You’ve thought it over? Are you calling to apologize?”

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To give her childhood friend my spot at Cambridge, my wife destroyed my records. She deliberately falsified my visa application, getting me permanently blacklisted, then had the tendons in my hand severed and shipped me off to The Sterling Institute for Men. My mother-in-law, who had always doted on me, was full of praise for the decision. “It serves him right, the ungrateful leech. We fed him, clothed him, and what does he do? Tries to get a PhD abroad to find his birth parents. He wants to play the dutiful son for them? Who’s going to take care of me in my old age?” My wife, Lydia, just scoffed. “He’s just vain. The moment he found out I turned down the Cambridge offer for him, he had the nerve to give me the silent treatment and ask for a divorce. If he’d actually gone, he’d have been completely out of my control.” She added, “Being my husband means a life without worry, but he still wanted to steal Leo’s future. The Sterling Institute will teach him to be grateful for what he has.” One semester later, my wife went to the airport to pick up her childhood friend, home from his studies abroad. For the first time in months, she asked her assistant about me. “It’s been long enough. Has he learned his lesson? Tell him he can come home for the winter break.” What she didn’t know was that I had died on the very first day she sent me to that “institute.” 1 When I opened my eyes again, I was at the welcome-home party for Leo, my wife’s childhood friend. Looking for something to talk about, they started debating who among their old friends had ended up the most pathetic. Someone snickered. “Is there even a question? It’s gotta be Sean, right? Three years ago, he was so cocky about getting into Cambridge for his PhD. Total bust. Then he spent two years trying and failing again from home. Now he’s at that Sterling Institute place!” “Meanwhile, our boy Leo, the real genius, quietly comes back with a Cambridge doctorate. Companies are lining up to offer him seven-figure salaries. God, I’m so jealous!” The private room erupted in a chorus of laughter and mockery. These were the same people who once swore it was a travesty, that if it weren’t for Leo’s dirty tricks, the one studying abroad should have been me. My wife, Lydia, kept a placid expression, but her eyes kept darting toward the door. Her fingers drummed an impatient rhythm on the table as she asked her assistant, “Sean’s on winter break too, isn’t he? Hasn’t he been begging to come home?” The assistant lied through his teeth. “The Institute says Mr. Evans refuses to leave. He’s staying on campus voluntarily. And… he won’t stop cursing you and Mr. Vance.” The crease between Lydia’s brows deepened. “A whole semester, and he’s still not learned a thing.” “Tell him this,” she commanded. “If he calls me and apologizes, and swears he’ll never think about going abroad again, I can forgive and forget. He can come home for the holidays.” A bitter laugh escaped my spectral lips. She still had no idea. I was already dead. Before my PhD application this year, I had accidentally discovered that Lydia had sabotaged my last two attempts. I’d given her the silent treatment. But I never imagined she would stoop so low as to tamper with my visa documents, a final, catastrophic blow that got me banned for life. With my dream of finding my birth parents in England shattered, my heart died. I asked for a divorce. Her response was to have me thrown into the Sterling Institute, where I met my end. Only after death did I learn the full extent of her scheme. She was terrified that if I went abroad, the truth from three years ago would come out—the truth that Leo had stolen my academic record and my place at Cambridge. Back in the present, Leo lowered his head, revealing a faint scar on his forehead. He took Lydia’s hands in his, his voice laced with manufactured concern. “He must be furious you sent him to that place. Don’t be afraid, Lydia. I’ll protect you. I don’t care if he hits me.” Years ago, Leo and I had applied to the same university under different advisors. In the end, my chosen professor announced he was taking Leo instead. When I confronted Leo to ask what happened, he burst into tears and slammed his head against a pillar, threatening to die to prove his innocence. Everyone decided I was a sore loser who’d resorted to violence. They looked at me with disgust. Lydia’s eyes softened with pity for Leo. “He wouldn’t dare,” she sneered. “I’ll let him rot in that institute for the rest of his life.” The others chimed in with words of comfort. “Come on, Leo. If Lydia hadn’t been so worried Sean would hurt you back then, she never would have impulsively proposed to him. Don’t you worry. You’re the only one in her heart. She’ll always protect you.” A tremor went through my entire being. Back then, Lydia was the only one who said she believed me, who begged me not to be rash, who promised to stay by my side while I tried again. It was all a lie. She was just afraid I’d cause trouble for Leo. Remembering the incident, someone advised, “Lydia, Sean’s personality is just awful. He’s not good enough for you. Leo is a much better fit. You two were childhood sweethearts, and now he’s so successful. Don’t let this drag on.” Lydia gave a noncommittal answer. “Leo still has another semester. We’ll see.” She pulled out her phone. No missed calls. Her face darkened as she grilled her assistant. “Are you sure you passed on my message? Why hasn’t he called me yet?” As if on cue, her phone buzzed. She didn’t even look at the screen, just brought it to her ear, a triumphant smirk on her lips. “Sean, you finally—” But the voice on the other end spoke in crisp English. “Miss Hayes, is this correct? We have a medical fund payment to transfer to your account. Are you available to receive it?” Lydia was confused. “I’m sorry, who is this?” The voice on the other end explained gently. “Three years ago, you were suffering from end-stage kidney failure. Your husband, Mr. Sean Evans, bombarded our top specialist with 999 emails, begging him to perform your surgery. The specialist had already announced his retirement, but Mr. Evans flew here himself. He offered his entire life savings and knelt in the rain for a day and a night, pleading for your life.” “We had never witnessed such profound devotion. The specialist made an exception for you. He never accepted the payment, instead converting it into a medical fund in Mr. Evans’s name. The fund has now reached its maturity date, and we intended to return it to Mr. Evans, but we’ve been unable to contact him.” At the time, Lydia had collapsed suddenly. Her condition was critical. Even if a donor kidney was found, no surgeon in the country dared to operate. I, desperate, had bruised my forehead to the point of bleeding, begging that foreign specialist to save her. When Lydia finally came out of surgery, I wept with joy. I never could have imagined that just a few months later, I would face the greatest betrayal of my life. Everyone in the room was an elite professional; they all understood the English conversation. A long silence fell, finally broken by someone’s soft exclamation. “We all thought he’d just abandoned you to go traveling back then. I had no idea… He was so devoted. Without that doctor, you might not have made it off that operating table.” Lydia’s fingers clenched the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. It took her a long moment to find her voice. When she did, it was ice. “I don’t need it. Donate it.” She hung up, a cold smile playing on her lips. “Sean’s just a martyr. Leo would never emotionally blackmail me like that.” “When I was dying from kidney failure, all he did was find a doctor. But Leo… Leo decided to risk his own life to save me!” “Leo’s health has been ruined ever since, but Sean? Selfish to the core. Threw a fit and demanded a divorce over something so trivial!” A bitter taste filled my mouth. I was the one who donated the kidney. I have a congenital bleeding disorder. To save her, I still went under the knife, knowing it could kill me. When I woke up, I found Lydia fussing over Leo, endlessly thanking him. No matter how I tried to explain, she thought I was just trying to steal his glory. Not long after, just because my initial PhD exam scores were higher than Leo’s, he threatened to throw himself off a bridge. “Sean, why am I always second best to you? You’re like a shadow hanging over my life! And now I have to watch you go off to Cambridge in this broken body? I’d rather be dead!” That single, pathetic plea was enough for Lydia to decide to help him steal my place. That was the beginning of it all. The atmosphere grew heavy. People raised their glasses, trying to lighten the mood. Someone pulled out their phone to scroll through short videos, forgetting to turn down the volume. A robotic voice blared out: “Breaking news! The ‘Sterling Institute for Men’ model is under fire for alleged abuse and criminal activity!” Clatter. Lydia’s fork fell to the floor.

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1 Here’s a more detailed version while keeping it concise: After my parents died in a tragic accident, I was sent abroad for five years of secret, intensive training before finally returning to take my place as the head of the Knight family. At a high-profile auction, I intended to buy gifts for my relatives—until the final item was unveiled. The moment the red cloth was pulled away, my blood turned to ice. Inside a massive black iron cage was my older sister, heavily pregnant, on the verge of childbirth. My grandmother sat in the audience, tears streaming down her face in despair. Behind my sister’s husband stood his ex-wife and their daughter, both smirking with satisfaction. “Jasmine and her mother tried to care for you,” my brother-in-law sneered, “yet you humiliated them, throwing money at their feet. Since you have so much to spare, why not light a sky lantern to save your granddaughter?” My sister cried for help, but no one dared intervene. Five years away—and they dared treat a Knight like this? Did they truly believe I was gone? Our butler was frantic. “Young Master, I’ll get the auction house president over here right now. We’ll have them release her and then make them kneel and apologize.” My eyes darkened. “Wait. I want to see exactly what they plan to do to my sister.” To dare to lay a hand on a Knight right under my nose… they must have a death wish. A chorus of lewd laughter erupted from the men in the audience as they openly appraised my sister. “As expected of the eldest daughter of a prestigious family. Even pregnant, she has a certain charm.” “Mr. Monroe, are you really willing to auction off your beautiful wife for your friends’ entertainment?” My grandmother was trembling, her eyes shooting daggers of pure hatred at the man on the stage, Felix Monroe. “Felix, if it weren’t for Iris willingly donating a kidney to you all those years ago, you would have died from renal failure!” “And when your company was on the verge of bankruptcy, it was Iris who used all her savings to help you get through it!” “You’re ungrateful, and now you’re doing this to her because of another woman! Do you even have a heart?” Felix just sneered. “She did all of that willingly. What does it have to do with me? You two humiliated my ex-wife and daughter, which is the same as humiliating me!” “The grand finale of this auction,” he announced with a flourish, “is one night with my pregnant wife, Iris Knight.” “Damn, this is getting exciting!” someone shouted. My grandmother’s eyes rolled back, and she almost collapsed. “Stop the act,” Felix’s ex-wife, Helena, chimed in. “Weren’t you two so high and mighty when you were trying to kick Jasmine and me out?” “So what if Jasmine accidentally pushed her? Was that any reason to throw us out on the street?” “She tried to push Iris down the stairs! She wanted to kill her and the baby!” my grandmother’s voice trembled with a residual fear. A five-year-old child with such a vicious mind. If they had called the police then, Helena and her daughter would have been arrested. All she had done was offer them money to find another place to live, simply to protect her granddaughter. “Your precious granddaughter is pregnant. Besides being auctioned off for a night, she and her baby can be sold together.” “The Knight family is so rich. Why don’t you light three heavenly lanterns to save her?” Helena added, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Lighting a heavenly lantern isn’t that easy. Each one costs over a hundred million. The Knight family has been bled dry. Their prestigious name is all they have left.” “You and your precious granddaughter are living hand-to-mouth, surviving on welfare checks. Lighting a heavenly lantern is a pipe dream.” “And don’t even think about getting the money back from Felix. You gave it to him willingly. Without an IOU, we don’t acknowledge it.” Helena watched my grandmother’s face grow even paler, and she laughed with satisfaction. My eyes narrowed. Since when were my grandmother and sister so poor they had to rely on welfare? I stared at Helena and her daughter, Jasmine, standing behind Felix, and my fists clenched. The limited-edition jewelry they were wearing… I had specifically bid on those pieces at an auction abroad to send to my grandmother and sister. I looked at my grandmother’s hands, calloused and rough, her skin peeling. She was so thin she was just skin and bones, and she had aged visibly. Inside the cage, my sister’s eyes were bloodshot. She looked like she wanted to tear the three of them apart. What Helena said must have been true. What on earth had happened in the five years I was gone? The Knight family was once as wealthy as a small nation. And my grandmother had her own powerful family backing her. How could they have fallen so low? “Investigate. I want to know everything that has happened in the last five years.” “Yes, Young Master.” For five years abroad, I had been undergoing the family’s secret training, living on the edge of life and death every single day. The only contact I had with home was through my uncle, who I would call in secret to check on them. But two years ago, his phone went dead. I had to accelerate my progress, and the moment I inherited the position of head of the Knight family, I rushed back. From the cage, my sister’s heart-wrenching screams echoed through the hall. “Felix, you bastard! How could you do this to your own child?” Felix was unfazed. “I have Jasmine. One daughter is enough. As for the baby in your belly… it’s not going to have the Monroe name anyway.” “But she is your wife! You’re the one who willingly married into the Knight family!” my grandmother cried. “Old woman, if you don’t have the money to bid, then get out. Don’t waste everyone’s time.” My sister’s eyes filled with despair. The men in the audience were perverts. After one night with them, it was uncertain if she would even wake up alive. “If the two of you kneel and apologize to them, I might consider letting her live.” My grandmother gritted her teeth in fury. “You want me to kneel and beg you?” My sister screamed in desperation, “Grandma, no! You can’t!” Jasmine suddenly burst into tears. “Daddy, they’re bad people! They said I was an unwanted burden and should just die!” Hearing this, Felix’s gaze turned icy. My grandmother steadied herself against a chair, slowly rising to her feet. She raised her bidding paddle, her voice trembling but resolute. “I… I want to bid!” 2 I stared at my grandmother in shock. I knew she couldn’t even produce a thousand dollars right now. Her monthly welfare check of five hundred wasn’t even enough for them to eat properly. But if she couldn’t pay, they would break her legs. The auctioneer released my sister from the cage and fastened a collar around her neck. She desperately tried to cover herself with her hands, but it was futile. “And now, we begin the bidding for one night with Mrs. Monroe. The starting bid is one cent.” A deafening roar of laughter erupted from the crowd. “One cent? Did I hear that right? That means any man here can have her!” “This is the eldest daughter of the top-tier Knight family. Back in the day, her line of suitors stretched all the way to France.” “Mr. Monroe is a generous man. This is practically a free gift!” “I’ll bid ten thousand!” The bids climbed rapidly, quickly reaching half a million. Felix took out his phone and projected its screen onto the large display. “We’re already at half a million. I’ll throw in a little bonus.” The screen showed my sister, heavily pregnant, in a series of seductive poses, her private areas pixelated. “My god, that’s so vulgar. I never would have guessed the prim and proper Miss Knight was so wild in private.” “That body is incredible. I love pregnant women. She’ll be fun to train.” “One million!” My grandmother glared at Felix and his family, her face contorted with rage. But he was busy draping a coat over Helena’s shoulders and buying ice cream for Jasmine, a perfect picture of a happy family. “Two million!” “Five million!” “I’ll light a heavenly lantern!” my grandmother screamed, then collapsed back into her chair, her face turning an even more ghastly shade of white. “Mrs. Knight, you want to light a heavenly lantern?” Helena sneered. “Can you even afford it?” “We have to verify your funds first. If you don’t have the money, don’t blame these men for not being polite to an old woman like you.” “I have the money. You can verify it anytime.” Helena burst out laughing. “Stop bluffing. If you had money, would you and your precious granddaughter be picking through leftover vegetables at the market?” My grandmother ignored her, taking out a family seal and handing it to the auctioneer. “Please, verify.” “It’s a waste of time. You’re just a shameless old woman, using your age to cause trouble here.” Before Helena could finish, the auctioneer slammed his gavel. “Congratulations to Mrs. Knight for successfully lighting a heavenly lantern! The night with Mrs. Monroe belongs to you.” Helena was dumbfounded, her face twisting into a hideous snarl. “You must be mistaken! How much can a stupid old seal be worth?” Felix’s eyes were fixed on the seal. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he crushed the wine glass in his hand. 3 Seeing the seal, I remembered it was the heirloom of my grandmother’s family. There was only one in existence, the most precious thing she had owned for years. The seal could be used to borrow fifty million from the bank, but the price was permanent excommunication from her family. After all, anyone who would cash in their family’s heirloom was no longer worthy of being a member. She wouldn’t have sold it, severing ties with her own family, unless she had no other choice. But for something so valuable to be exchanged for such a small sum… she had clearly been taken advantage of. The president of the auction house was kneeling before me, trembling like a leaf, sweat pouring down his face, too terrified to even breathe. On the auction floor, the lecherous men were grumbling with disappointment. “To let some old hag light the heavenly lantern.” “Damn it, I wanted a taste of that beautiful pregnant woman. Now it’s all ruined!” The auctioneer smiled and told them to be patient, because something even more explosive was coming. “Tonight’s second grand finale item is… Mrs. Monroe’s body!” “According to the medical report provided by Mr. Monroe, Mrs. Monroe has a rare blood type, RH-negative. She can be purchased for use as a private blood bank.” A fresh wave of gasps rippled through the hall. RH-negative blood was incredibly rare. Those who had it were often kept under the protection of powerful families. For an ordinary person to own a walking, talking blood bank was like a dream come true. It was a truly fitting finale for the auction, and everyone was eager to bid. “Such a rare blood type… If I buy her and have twenty kids with her, won’t I have an infinite blood supply?” “Exactly! And as long as she doesn’t die, she can keep having babies. The world record is fifty-eight.” “Plus, I can have some fun with her too. Two birds with one stone. Perfect!” The men surged forward, their grimy, stinking hands reaching out, groping my sister’s body. My grandmother, enraged, grabbed her cane and started swinging wildly at their heads. “You old hag, how dare you attack us! You’re asking for it!” A fist stopped mid-air. It was Felix. He spoke in a cold, warning tone. “Don’t cause trouble here. Don’t forget, the new owner of this place is ruthless. You don’t want to cross him.” “Once the bidding is over, these two are ours to do with as we please. Whether they live or die is up to us.” The men exchanged glances and, for the moment, backed down. “You old hag, we’ll deal with you later. I’m buying your granddaughter’s life. I bid ten million!” “Twenty million!” “Forty million!” My grandmother collapsed onto her chair. On the stage, my sister’s eyes were filled with utter despair. Helena was triumphant again. “You don’t have the money to save your precious granddaughter this time, do you? I’d say lighting that first lantern was just a final, desperate struggle.” “You lit one heavenly lantern. You can’t possibly have the money to light a second one. Just wait and watch your granddaughter become a living blood bag.” “Light… light the heavenly lantern!” My grandmother raised her bidding paddle, mustering all her strength to shout the words. My sister stared at Felix, tears of blood streaming from her eyes. She hated him with every fiber of her being. Their years of love and companionship had all been a giant lie. Before they were married, Felix had hidden the fact that he was divorced, presenting himself as a caring, successful professional. It was only after my sister had given him everything that he revealed his true colors. Felix sneered. “See that? This is what you get for insulting my ex-wife and daughter.” My sister closed her eyes, letting the bloody tears trace a path down her cheeks. She hated herself for giving her heart away so easily, and now she was dragging her only remaining family down with her. In that moment, she broke down, sobbing. She regretted everything…

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I am an ape, just another resident of the zoo. Then one day, a girl told me I used to be human. In front of the gorilla enclosure, a tour guide waved a small red flag. “Welcome, everyone, to the Zenith Zoo’s gorilla habitat.” “If you fail the mission, the consequences will be more than you can bear.” Their mission, it seemed, had something to do with me. 01 The iron bars of the enclosure gleamed under the sickly white moonlight. Three days ago, a group of twenty people had stepped into this place. Now, including the girl clutching her arm before me, her face a mask of pale agony, only five remained. She knelt on the sand not far from me, pain twisting her beautiful features into a grimace. The moonlight starkly illuminated the gash on her right arm, so deep I could see the bone. The edges of the raw, torn flesh were already taking on an ominous, grayish hue. Biting her lip so hard it could have drawn blood, she fumbled in the pocket of her filthy jacket and pulled out a small, plastic-wrapped pastry. With a rough tear, she ripped open the packaging. Then, she did something that sent a primal chill down my spine. She didn’t eat it. Instead, she took the soft, flimsy pastry and ground it into the bloody mess of her arm, smearing it with the thick, dark-red fluid until it was soaked through. Plop. The pastry, now stained beyond recognition, landed at my feet. A few of my fellow apes, drawn by the scent of blood, let out restless growls, their eyes glowing red as they closed in. The girl’s gaze was fixed on me, cold and piercing, filled with a profound disgust and a scrutinizing intensity. A familiar, nauseating temptation washed over my mind. As if moved by some unseen hand, I extended a coarse finger, dabbed the sticky liquid on the pastry, and licked it. Then I snatched the blood-soaked bread and shoved it into my mouth. The coppery tang of blood mingled with the cloying sweetness of cheap flour, an assault on my senses. The moment she saw me swallow, the last flicker of hope in the girl’s eyes died, leaving only a dead, hollow emptiness. A mocking smirk twisted her lips, and she spat on the ground with utter contempt. “Tch.” “A beast is a beast.” “I’d rather die for good than become… that.” Her voice was a hoarse, curse-laden whisper. Ding! A sharp, monotonous bell suddenly shattered the night. Feeding time. The girl’s body jolted, every expression on her face freezing into one of pure, bone-deep terror. She scrambled to her feet, half-crawling, half-stumbling, and threw herself toward the locked gate of the enclosure, dragging her ruined arm with her last ounce of strength. Outside the gate, several figures in bulky, hermetically sealed green hazmat suits appeared, right on schedule. Masks, gloves, goggles—they were covered from head to toe. One of the keepers mechanically set down a bucket of vegetables and unidentified meat scraps while another blasted the ground with a high-pressure hose. Their movements were precise, efficient, and lifeless, like pre-programmed routines, executed without a second’s delay. After they left, a brief, dead silence fell over the enclosure. I leaned against a dead log, chewing on the lingering taste of blood in my mouth. This zoo had pathetically few visitors, just the occasional group of intruders. They never seemed to be here for the animals. But I was just an ape. These were not things I was supposed to think about. As midnight descended, casting a frost-like glow over the sleeping apes, I silently opened my eyes. After confirming that no one was watching, I slipped into the shadows of the rockery, into a cave hidden deep within. 02 In the darkest corner of the cave, I used my fingernails to dig through the soft earth, unearthing a small, rectangular metal box. The moment my fingers touched it, the box lit up with a soft chime. Several messages glowed on the screen: “Blade, what’s the status?” “You taken care of the alpha ape?” “Blade? You there?” “Answer me, man!” The sender’s icon was a snarling wolf, the name listed as “Mo.” I had swiped this box from the pocket of the man they called “Blade” the night he’d snuck in. The screen’s faint light illuminated my own short, coarse-haired fingers. Without hesitation, I moved my thumb, clumsy yet precise, and tapped the cool glass. “Hit a snag.” “Lay low for now. Text me.” Yes, I knew this thing was called a “phone.” And I knew how to use it. After replying, I reburied the phone deep in the earth and crept back to my spot, curling up as if I’d never left. A moment later, moonlight seeped through the crack of the heavy iron gate, along with the furtive faces of the five survivors. They were back. They moved like startled birds, their eyes scanning every dark corner, clearly terrified of the keepers who had just left. “Hmph. Another one bites the dust,” a man in a sharp suit said, his arms crossed. His hair was slicked back, and the glint off his gold-rimmed glasses was as cold as his voice. He was the only one in the group who still looked remotely put-together. A scrawny, rat-faced man standing next to him gave a weak laugh. “Stark, Blade’s still kicking. Just had some urgent business to take care of.” A young woman with a ponytail, looking like a college student, broke the tense silence. “If we want to live, we have to solve the riddle.” A little further away, an old man in a tattered security guard uniform nodded vigorously, like a pecking chicken. “Faye’s right!” The girl who had just fled, her arm still bleeding, hung her head, pressing her wound. She gave a barely perceptible nod in agreement. Stark pushed his glasses up his nose and spoke first. “The sage dreams he’s a butterfly, the butterfly dreams it’s a sage.” “It has to mean something, but we still haven’t cracked it.” “Let’s keep looking.” 03 Shortly after they left, I slowly turned my stiff neck. Their words clung to my mind like a cold spiderweb. The Butterfly Dream? Suddenly, a sharp image stabbed through my thoughts. The gorilla enclosure! The only one! Here! My head snapped around, my gaze locking onto a cluster of hydrangeas at the foot of the rockery. They were artificially planted, but blooming with an unnatural, vibrant intensity. Resting on a large, purple-blue flowerhead was a huge, iridescent swallowtail butterfly, utterly out of place. Its wings shimmered with a demonic, phosphorescent light in the moonlight. Its presence was both impossible and critical. Was this why they kept coming back, why they saw this enclosure as some kind of focal point? I climbed to the highest branch and lay on my back, staring up at the thick, churning clouds that pressed down on the zoo like a physical weight. I don’t know how much time passed before the wind began to howl. The clouds, like a rotting curtain, slowly tore apart. It was a full moon tonight. The enclosure was instantly bathed in a light so bright it was like daytime. Suddenly, without warning, an excruciating pain ripped through my entire body. “Ugh—AAAAAH!” It felt like a million red-hot needles erupting from the marrow of my bones. Every inch of my skin, every muscle, convulsed and tore apart. My soul felt like it had been thrown into a blazing furnace. An agonized scream tore itself from my throat. In my distorted vision, my long, gray-black fur began to curl and peel away, like paper licked by an invisible flame. It fell off in dry flakes, revealing smooth, human skin underneath. My bones cracked and popped, a sound like a string of firecrackers, as an unseen force brutally straightened my crouched limbs. The powerful, hunched form of the ape vanished. In its place was the naked, lean, and powerful body of a young man. As I stared in horror at my own unfamiliar human hands and feet, my mind a complete blank, a keeper in a full white hazmat suit walked up to me. He stood there, perfectly still, betraying no emotion. The eyes behind his goggles were cold, inorganic, devoid of any sign of life. The keeper tossed a neatly folded green hazmat suit at my feet. His voice, filtered through the mask, was the grating sound of rusty gears—flat, monotonous, and utterly without inflection. “No. 2517, you’re on duty tonight.” Without another word, like a robot whose program was complete, he turned and melted back into the thick darkness. Me? 2517? On duty? The aftershocks of the pain still gnawed at my nerves, and the cognitive dissonance of my sudden transformation nearly tore me apart. But the coldness in his eyes and the unquestionable authority in his voice instilled a fear in me that crushed any thought of defiance. 04 After I put on the suit, I tried to ask, “Who are you? How did I become human?” The keeper didn’t respond, as if he hadn’t heard me. He simply walked away, disappearing from the enclosure. The only answer was the wind whistling through the park and a low, distant, unidentifiable gnawing sound. As if pulled by invisible strings, I began to walk on these strange, heavy legs, starting my patrol. The zoo was caught in a kind of silent, deathly carnival. The herbivore enclosures I passed were terrifyingly quiet, their gentle inhabitants nowhere to be seen. I rounded a few more empty pens and finally arrived at the iron gate of the staff dormitory. The sound was coming from here. A thick, almost solid stench of blood, mixed with the metallic reek of torn flesh, hit my mask like a physical blow. Even through the filter, the nauseating smell seeped into my nostrils, triggering my gag reflex. My stomach churned. I pushed open the half-closed iron gate. The hellscape that greeted me seized my heart and made it stop. Viscous, dark-red blood carpeted every inch of the floor and walls, like a cheap, tacky rug. A massive Siberian tiger, its amber eyes reflecting a crimson glow, was tearing at a twitching mass on the floor that was barely recognizable as human tissue. On the fire escape door nearby, long, dark-red streaks of blood mixed with bits of internal organs were smeared across the metal. A few thick, scaly, grayish-brown tails protruded from behind the door. Komodo dragons. They were working in concert, using their powerful claws and serrated teeth to rip apart a corpse. Beyond them, a giant golden eagle perched on a light fixture, its sharp beak pecking at an eyeball hanging from the lampshade. A muscular kangaroo was frantically stomping on a body lying face-up on the ground. A brown bear was wedged in the doorway of a small break room, trying to pull half a human torso through the frame. A pack of gray wolves fought over a severed arm by the conference room door. A tall elk stood silently in a corner, a length of intestine dangling from its massive antlers. Even a colorful macaw was perched on a severed head, its thick beak digging into an eye socket. The air was a horrific symphony of guttural growls, the tearing of muscle and sinew, and the crunching of bone. My legs went weak, and I could barely stand on the slick, bloody floor. A chilling cold shot up my spine and froze my entire body. My mind went blank, filled only with a primal scream for survival. The moment I pushed the door open, the moment the smell hit the air, every single act of tearing and chewing stopped. Every pair of cold, emotionless animal eyes locked onto me. In that suffocating silence, I felt something tug at the cuff of my hazmat suit. Terror turned my muscles to rusty iron. I lowered my head, slowly, stiffly. Less than two feet away, a man—or what was left of him—was lying in a pool of still-congealing blood. His entire lower body was gone. From the torn wound at his waist, the white nubs of his spinal column and purplish-red coils of his intestines soaked in the gore. His remaining upper body twitched. A mangled hand reached up, clutching my pant leg. His face, gray from blood loss, turned an infinitesimal degree toward me. His shattered lips moved, and a gurgling, bubbling sound, like a dying man’s last breath, escaped his throat. His last shred of consciousness focused through his dying pupils, staring at my goggles. “Run…” He choked on the word and went still. Run? My brain issued the command, but my legs were filled with cement. Run where? Behind me was the unknown darkness of the park; before me was a hall of carnivorous beasts. They had stopped feeding, but their pure, primal, investigative stare was more terrifying than a direct attack. Just then, a leopard that had been lying in a pool of blood stirred. It seemed to have lost interest in the frozen tableau. It rose gracefully, stepping over the chunks of gore, and padded down the hall to a row of employee lockers. It pressed its wet nose against the cold metal seam of one. The next second, its eyes flashed with predatory light. A massive paw slammed against the locker door. BOOM! The thin metal door, along with its wooden frame, twisted and exploded like paper. Shards of metal and wood shot out like shrapnel. Behind the shattered door, a figure was curled into a ball.

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Getting close to the wrong man brings nothing but misery. My darling daughter had fallen for some deadbeat. A broke loser, no less. Not only did this kid have zero class, but he actually had the gall to think he could waltz in and eventually take over my company. But Chloe was head over heels for him. So much so, she was willing to cut ties with me, her own mother, just to marry this bum. I laughed. “Fine. Get out of my sight, the both of you. Stay as far away from me as possible.” But later, much later, she was kneeling at my feet, sobbing, begging me to take her away. 1. My birthday gala was winding down when Chloe finally rushed in. She was wearing the designer dress I’d picked out for her, but her hair was a mess, her face flushed. “Mom, I’m so, so sorry. Something came up last minute at the hospital.” Standing beside her, the man practically shoved a small, slightly worn box from a generic mall jeweler into my hands. He had a loud voice. “Mrs. Vance, good evening. I only found out it was your birthday on the way over with Chloe. Didn’t have time to get anything fancy, hope you don’t mind.” The entire ballroom went silent. Everyone turned to stare, their faces a mixture of curiosity and judgment. Chloe. He called her Chloe? That familiar? I gave him a slow once-over. Buzz cut, shifty eyes, not particularly tall. He was wearing a suit that looked like it had been pulled crumpled from the back of a closet somewhere—definitely borrowed or rented, and badly. Everyone else here tonight was either old money, new money, or a titan of industry. He stuck out like a sore thumb. The way he held that cheap gift box, looking down his nose at me, it almost felt like he thought he was doing me a favor. I ignored him completely and turned to Chloe, forcing a smile. “Honey, and this is…?” Before the guy could open his mouth, Chloe jumped in, “This is my boyfriend, Derek Stone…” Her voice trailed off, getting quieter, and she dropped her gaze, unable to meet my eyes. My smile vanished. My face hardened. The murmurs started immediately among the guests. “What’s going on? Wasn’t Chloe engaged to Ethan Hayes? Since when is there a boyfriend?” “Is Chloe blind? Trading Ethan Hayes for… that piece of work?” “Poor Eleanor. What a way to ruin her birthday.” “Ethan is such a catch, any girl would kill to be with him. What is she thinking?” Derek, seeing I wasn’t acknowledging him, let his forced smile fade. He shifted his weight, rubbing his arm like holding the cheap box was tiring him out. I heard him mutter under his breath, “Seriously? What’s with the stuck-up rich bitch act?” He said it low, but I heard it clear as day. Chloe panicked instantly, tugging lightly at his sleeve, silently pleading with him to shut up. Just then, Ethan Hayes stepped onto the small stage, smoothly taking the microphone to rescue the situation. “Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate Eleanor’s birthday! That concludes our festivities for the evening!” He gave me a subtle nod from across the room, a silent message not to worry. Then he started directing the staff to clear the area. Relief washed over me. I turned on my heel and walked towards the exit, snapping coldly over my shoulder at Chloe and Derek, “Follow me.” 2 Back home, in the first-floor living room, Mrs. Davis had already prepared tea for us. I sank onto the sofa, composing myself, and looked expectantly at Chloe. “Alright. Talk. When did this start?” She exchanged a nervous glance with Derek. “Mom,” she began tentatively, “please don’t be angry when I tell you.” I just raised an eyebrow. That was enough. She confessed immediately: “High school.” High school? My Chloe had always been such a good girl, always did what she was told. In high school, she was completely focused on her studies. She wouldn’t have gotten involved in something like dating early unless someone else pushed her into it. Thinking about this, my anger started to simmer again, burning hotter. Derek wasn’t the type to read a room. He actually leaned forward, trying to get closer. “Mrs. Vance, I came here tonight because I wanted to be upfront with you. Chloe and I are in love, and we really hope you’ll give us your blessing.” His eyes darted around the room, taking everything in. Calculation was written all over his face. I took a deep breath. “Marriage? Well, isn’t that lovely. It’s rare for my Chloe to find someone she likes so much. I guess I need to vet him properly.” I turned my full attention to Derek. “Mr. Stone, where did you graduate from college? Where are you currently employed? What’s your salary? Do you own a car? A house? What are your savings? And what, exactly, are your plans for the future?” “And if you intend to marry my Chloe,” I added, my voice dripping ice, “what kind of financial commitment are you prepared to make? Let’s say, as a show of good faith. How about five million dollars?” Chloe froze, stunned by my barrage of questions. She just sat there, speechless. Derek looked even more uncomfortable. He wrung his hands in his lap, his ears turning bright red. He stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. I saw right through him. “Oh, dear,” I said with mock sympathy. “Don’t tell me you have… nothing?” Chloe immediately jumped to his defense. “Mom, it’s not like that! Derek started his own company, poured a lot of his own money into it! It hit a rough patch, but things are starting to turn around now. He has potential, Mom! He’s going to make it big, I know it!” Mentioning the company seemed to puff Derek up again. He lifted his chin, nodding arrogantly. “Yeah, I’m good at business. Never met a deal I couldn’t close. Once Chloe and I are married, I’ll work even harder, for our family’s company…” I gasped, covering my mouth in mock surprise. “What do you mean, our company? Mr. Stone, surely you aren’t planning on taking over the Vance enterprises?” He realized his slip-up, his face clouding with frustration. He clamped his mouth shut, refusing to say another word. I took a slow sip of my tea, then sighed lightly. “My Chloe is such an exceptional young woman. So many suitable men would love to marry her. If you really want to marry her… well, maybe I can make an exception, cut you a deal.” Hearing this, Derek perked up considerably. “Tell me, Mrs. Vance. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.” I nodded. “The requirements aren’t that high. Just show me you can provide that five million dollar commitment I mentioned. Then, I’ll agree to the marriage.” His face twisted instantly, ugly. He practically spat the words out between clenched teeth: “Five. Million. Dollars?” He turned on Chloe then. “Chloe, I’m so disappointed. Your mother is unbelievably materialistic!” With that, he stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Chloe was left standing there, stamping her foot in frustration. She looked at me reproachfully. “Mom! Why did you have to say that? You can’t put a price tag on love!” She turned to chase after him, but I stopped her sharply. “A man who isn’t willing to show any kind of financial commitment, not even for your future? And you still want to be with him? Starting today, you are staying home. You are not going anywhere. Your relationship with him is over. Understand?” Chloe flared up. “That kind of money? How is he supposed to come up with that right now? Rob a bank?” “Is five million really that much, Chloe?” I looked at her coldly. “For you, that amount used to be pocket change. When did your standards get so low?” She couldn’t argue with me. Defeated, she sulked back to her room. I paused for a moment, then pulled out my phone and sent a text to my private investigator. ‘Run a background check on a Derek Stone. I want everything you can find.’ 3 Derek Stone’s family background was, to put it mildly, a disaster. His father was a gambling addict. After one particularly bad loss, he flew into a rage and killed the person he owed money to. A convicted murderer, serving life. His mother remarried and cut off all contact with Derek completely. He was in the same grade as Chloe in high school. Before senior year even ended, he was expelled for bullying another student. He’d been drifting through low-end jobs ever since. He’d been in plenty of trouble. Just like his father: prone to anger, volatile. The PI told me the company Derek started was in game development. But he lacked the skills and, more importantly, the funding. He couldn’t attract real talent. The company was floundering, basically dead in the water with no future prospects. This was the man I was supposed to let Chloe be with? Absolutely not. I closed the file folder. “Mrs. Davis,” I called out, my voice firm. “Inform Miss Chloe that the wedding to Ethan Hayes will proceed as scheduled. Next week. Tell her to prepare herself.” The wedding was set. Before Mrs. Davis could even respond, we heard pounding footsteps on the stairs. Chloe rushed down, clutching the fabric of her dress. “Mom! I won’t marry Ethan! I don’t love him! The person I love is Derek!” I’d had counselors talking to her for days, trying to make her see reason. Clearly, it hadn’t worked. If anything, it seemed to have made her even more defiant. My face hardened instantly. “Ethan Hayes is respectful, intelligent, and capable. He has a brilliant future ahead of him. How can Derek even compare?” Ethan was the perfect match I had carefully chosen for her. The sole heir to the Hayes fortune. Marrying him meant Chloe would never have to worry about money. She could focus entirely on her own career in medicine. “You grew up with Ethan, Chloe. You know him better than anyone. There’s simply no comparison between him and Derek!” I tried reasoning with her, my voice softening slightly. “Honey, you need to marry someone who is already established, someone good. He won’t let you suffer. Derek is only with you because you’re Chloe Vance. He wants your money, your connections, your status to build himself up. Take away the Vance name, and there’s nothing left for your relationship.” Chloe shook her head vehemently, tears starting to well up. “No, that’s not it! All my life, I’ve felt like a puppet! No thoughts of my own, no freedom! Just following the path you laid out for me, step by step!” “Derek brought color into my life! When I’m with him, I can laugh out loud, I can be myself, completely unrestrained! Only then do I feel like a real person, alive, with feelings!” She looked straight at me, big tears rolling down her cheeks. “Mom, do you know how lonely it is? Living alone in that huge, empty condo you bought me? It’s so cold. Derek came over one night… he cooked dinner for me. For the first time, I felt like I had a real home, something warm.” I was stunned. “A home-cooked meal?” My voice was incredulous. “One meal made you feel warmth? Then what about everything I’ve done for you, all these years? What does that count for?” Chloe wasn’t my biological daughter. I adopted her from the foster care system when she was young. I’ve never been good at intimacy, at expressing affection. The only way I knew how was to provide, to give her everything I thought was best for her. She didn’t do great on her SATs, so I sent her to a top-tier university overseas. She walked straight into a prestigious residency program after graduation. I worried about her commute to the hospital, so I bought her a condo nearby and a car. I even pulled strings behind the scenes to smooth things over with her colleagues and superiors. My daughter had the best of everything growing up – clothes, education, friends from influential families. And now, she was throwing it all away for a single home-cooked meal from a loser? I was shaking with anger. “So, you feel like I’ve somehow failed you?” Chloe bit her lip, her voice suddenly soft again. “Mom, that’s not what I meant, please let me explain…” I cut her off with a bitter laugh. “No need to explain. If you insist on being with Derek Stone, then fine. I will freeze all your assets. And effective immediately, you no longer work at that hospital.” Chloe paled, then flushed with anger. “Mom! I earned that position on my own merit! You can’t do this!” I gave her a cold, dismissive glance. “Your merit?” “The only reason that top-ranked medical team even looked at you was because your last name is Vance.” “The reason you can walk into work and not worry about office politics, do whatever you please, is because you are my daughter. Everything you have, Chloe, comes from this family. It’s not something you could have ever achieved through hard work alone.” She crumpled, sinking onto the floor as if her legs couldn’t hold her anymore. She had no reply.

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After the car crash, my girlfriend, Chelsea, pushed through the crowd and rushed towards her uninjured ex-husband, Jason, like he was a precious treasure. Ambulance sirens wailed, everyone trying to rescue me, pinned under the car. But Chelsea, for the man at the core of her heart, was frantically looking for a first-aid kit. Her college sweetheart, the one she’d married—he was unforgettable, I guess. The newcomer winning out? A total joke. Out of surgery, I gritted my teeth against the searing pain and called my father, whom I’d been giving the cold shoulder to for years. “Dad, I’ll go abroad. Someone else can take over the company. I just want to get out of here.” Even though next month was the wedding I’d waited seven years for, practically begged Chelsea for. This time, I wouldn’t be a fool again. … While my bones were mending, I saw no one except the temp caregiver I hired. Back then, Chelsea had said, “Stay away from your deadbeat friends!” and I’d dropped everyone, moving with her to a secluded house where it was just the two of us. I thought it would be just the two of us, forever, and that would be fine. But after the crash, my ‘other half’ just sent a text: “Busy with stuff here. Take care.” How ironic. I’d doted on her for seven years. Headaches, fevers—I always insisted on top doctors, terrified that too much medication would harm her. Now, hospitalized after a car crash, I couldn’t even get a sincere “how are you?” But she was the one who came onto me first. When my career was just starting, she’d cooed about saving enough to retire early together. When work got too hectic, she was the one constantly reminding me to eat proper meals, not to smoke or drink too much. Even if I said I wanted to see the ocean at 3 AM, she’d race out with me without a complaint. She said she’d married young and foolishly, to the wrong person. She said meeting me made her realize what it truly felt like to want to marry someone. But if Jason just beckoned, she’d drop everything to follow him, leaving me in the dust. I thought I was immune by now. But the physical pain, the stark loneliness… everything screamed at me who the real “wrong person” was. The fracture ached so bad I could barely breathe, but I still reached for my phone. Social media, e-invites, reception bookings… one by one, I canceled and deleted everything related to Chelsea. I just never expected Chelsea could always push me from the brink of collapse right into a full-blown meltdown. Coming home from the hospital, everything had changed. The decor I’d chosen to suit her taste was replaced with weird Goth stuff. She knew I had pollen allergies, but now there was a mountain of flowers piled by the door. Facing the nosy neighbors and their fake congratulations, I just nodded blankly and used my spare key to unlock the door. I didn’t even need to try; I knew Chelsea would have changed the passcode. Whenever Jason showed up, this house stopped being our house. It became his and her art studio, a prerequisite for their “soulful connection.” To keep the peace, I always had to retreat to the small cabin behind the main house. Thinking about it now, it’s laughable. It was my house. Why the hell should I accommodate those two scumbags? An image of them all lovey-dovey flashed in my mind, and I instinctively slammed my fist against the door. I never expected the disgusting scene that greeted me. Jason, shirtless, holding a leather whip. Teasingly, flippantly, he tapped Chelsea with it, now and then. And Chelsea was clearly enjoying it, half-kneeling at his feet, nuzzling his heel with her cheek. “Master, you get me. He has zero charm as a man, just a loser.” He? Who else could she mean but me? Seeing the red silk I’d carefully arranged in the room now wrapped around them like props… I couldn’t control myself. This was my home, our marital home! What the hell were they doing?! 2 “Alex! Why did you come home without a word? When did you get in? Were you eavesdropping on us?!” I saw panic in Chelsea’s eyes, but all I heard were accusations. Yeah, even caught red-handed, she was unreasonable as ever, blaming me first. I looked down and laughed self-deprecatingly. Then Jason’s lazy voice drifted over, “Perfect timing, I’m thirsty. Alex, did you bring back anything to drink?” That question stabbed me in the heart, making me realize how pathetic I’d been. “This is my house. Jason, can’t you even afford a motel room?” Without waiting to see their ugly expressions, I grabbed my ID and left. But Chelsea suddenly chased after me, grabbing my arm. “What do you mean, ‘motel room’? How can your mind be so dirty?” “I don’t care! Alex! You have to apologize to us today!” I spun around, furious, my eyes practically bloodshot in an instant. “Me, dirty? When you were on the floor acting like someone’s pet, did you ever think about your fiancé who almost died in a car crash?” Hearing “car crash,” Chelsea flinched guiltily, but then she quickly became indignant again. “I saw the bank records, you hired a caregiver. I don’t know how to do anything, so I wouldn’t have been any help if I went. Besides…” What kind of twisted logic was that? I didn’t want to hear another word. I just sneered, “So, by your logic, I should just date people? Why bother getting married or making any serious commitments?” “Alex!” Chelsea shrieked at me, incredulous. Tears welled up in her eyes instantly. Shouting “You’re unbelievable!” she rushed back to the room to seek comfort from Jason. Looking at the closed door, and the wound on my arm she’d torn open in her fit of rage… I once again realized how wrong this relationship was. Chelsea… she never loved me, did she? There was no point staying in this house anymore. Stone-faced, I started destroying every testament to our supposed love. The sound of smashing china and glass echoed through the living room. The two in the room must have come out at some point. They just stood on the landing, silently watching my rampage, looking down on my humiliation and pain. Until I picked up the coffee mug Chelsea had handmade for me. She got so agitated she almost leaped from the second floor. “You can’t break that one!” She cradled that mug like a new mother with her baby. Even though we’d never once used it or even thought about it all these years. I wanted to say, “You don’t have to act.” But then my gaze fell on her bleeding foot, cut by a shard of glass, and I changed my tune. “I don’t drink coffee. It’s useless to keep it.” Chelsea’s eyes dimmed, seeming very reluctant to part with it. “But this was the first gift I ever made by hand…” I pressed my lips together, unsure how to respond, when someone pushed me. Jason sauntered over to Chelsea, eyes narrowed in a half-smile. “Good thing I love coffee. Since Alex doesn’t cherish it, I guess I’ll have to protect ‘Little Chelsy’s’ heartfelt gift.” A few words, and he’d completely invalidated my feelings for Chelsea. And she clearly bought it, handing the mug over to him almost without a second thought. Watching them get all touchy-feely again without a care in the world, I really didn’t want to say another word. “Canceling the marriage license appointment requires both our consent. Remember to confirm it.” Chelsea, lost in her sweet moment, didn’t seem to hear. Her faint voice drifted from behind me, “What? Go get the license this afternoon, right? I remember!” She remembered. But I never said I was going. 3 “Alex, I need to see you! Open up, quick!” The urgent shouts echoed around the small cabin. In a daze, it felt like a lifetime ago. I almost instinctively went to open the door and ask Chelsea, “What’s wrong, babe?” But the discomfort from my injuries forced me to face reality. The moment I cracked the door open, she impatiently barged in, dragging Jason with her. “Jason has a sculpture exhibit this afternoon, and I really want to go!” “Alex, can you cancel the marriage license appointment? We can go in a couple of days, it’s not a big deal~” Her wheedling tone was soft and drawn out, but her body kept leaning towards Jason. She didn’t even glance at me while speaking, as if she were just informing me. Seeing the tense atmosphere, Jason feigned a slight reprimand to Chelsea. “Little Chelsy, you’re about to be a wife. How can you still be so willful?” “But this exhibit has been in the works for a long time, and I was really hoping you could make it…” Ha, talk about trying to have it both ways, I thought. But Chelsea seemed completely oblivious to the undertones in Jason’s words. She anxiously grabbed Jason’s hand, then looked at me with a troubled expression. “Can’t you just be understanding? You know how much people in his line of work need support from family and friends…” Understanding again. I’d lost count of how many times I’d “understood” them over the past seven years. I scoffed. “So, an art show is more important than getting married? Then why don’t the authorities set up a special fund to support these ‘struggling artists’?” Chelsea jumped up like an ant on a hot pan. “What are you doing?! Don’t you know how to respect people? So what if you have a little money? You’re just a hick from the sticks yourself, what right do you have to insult Jason like that?” “Yeah, I’m from the sticks. So whose money paid for all those designer bags, luxury cars, and the house all these years?” “Alex! You!” Watching Chelsea’s face turn beet red, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. I’d never once contradicted her before. I’d even agreed without a second thought when she said she wanted Jason to sit at the head table, like he was on the bride’s side of the family. But now, the wedding was off. Who cared about the license? Perhaps the atmosphere was too weird, because Jason, for once, tried to smooth things over. He laughed and patted my shoulder. “Alex isn’t really mad, is he? It’s fine! You two go get your license.” How could Chelsea bear to see him “suffer” like that? Her expression shifted multiple times. Finally, she just grabbed Jason and stormed off without a backward glance. “I’m going to that exhibit today, period! We can deal with the license the day before the reception. It’s not like the world’s ending tomorrow, I don’t know what you’re in such a hurry for!” Speeding off, complaining all the way. The commotion at the house had already drawn the neighbors out to watch. But watching Jason drive off with my fiancée half in his arms, in the car I bought… What was there for me to hide for her anymore? “Yeah, I got cheated on. Royally cheated on.” After saying that, I threw my head back and laughed freely a few times. If I was destined to be miserable, might as well own it. And then, expose the seven years of those two scumbags’ sordid affair to the public. As the wedding date approached, the information I leaked became more and more detailed. Suggestive photos with faces artfully obscured, love poems and letters overflowing with deep affection. Each and every one a testament to their affair. Chelsea did try to contact me during this time, but she only had eyes for Jason. “The exhibit was a huge success! We’re going out to celebrate for a few days, we can talk when we get back!” “Moon Lake is so beautiful! Jason said it’s like an early honeymoon preview, he’s so thoughtful for us!” “I know the wedding is tomorrow, the plane will definitely land by early morning! I didn’t want a delay… If you don’t believe me, I’ll have Jason tell you!” But they seemed too wrapped up in themselves. Amidst the noisy background, all I could hear was the sound of their passionate, unending kisses. I hit pause on the recording, looked at the wedding photo poster being dismantled in the hotel lobby, and just let time pass. Until a banner reading “Congratulations Chelsea and Jason on your Remarriage! Forever and Always!” was hung in the lobby. Videos and photos of those two scumbags played on a loop on the big screen. My (would-be) parents-in-law’s expressions went from overjoyed to looking like they’d attended a funeral. Chelsea’s face, surrounded by her bridesmaids, instantly fell. Only then did I truly breathe a sigh of relief, boarding the private jet my father had arranged, and left in style.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392479”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel