Category: English

  • Reborn to Send My Roommate to Prison

    My roommate, Lily Kingsley, started stealing takeout, ballooning from ninety pounds to one hundred and fifty, turning into a veritable human blimp. Later, she wanted me to join her, but I refused. I told her it was wrong, but she just thought I was ungrateful. Eventually, the school caught on to her thievery and expelled her. She blamed me for reporting her. So, on the day she came back to pack her things, she pushed me from the top floor. She then claimed my job, the one I had worked so hard for, and promptly started dating my fiancé. I died consumed by hatred. But then I opened my eyes again. To my shock, I was back on the very first day Lily Kingsley started stealing takeout. 1 A rustle at the dorm door, and then it swung open. I watched as my roommate, Lily Kingsley, entered, juggling two large bags of takeout. She plopped down, opened the containers, and a delicious aroma wafted through the room. “What did you guys have for lunch?” she asked, oblivious. I stared at the bags in her hands, a chilling realization dawning on me. In my previous life, this was the day Lily started stealing takeout. Her first haul was two full meals. She got away with it—a roasted duck and a milk tea—and from that moment, she grew increasingly brazen. Soon, she was pilfering four or five meals a day. When no one pursued her, she started taking packages too. Her desk began to overflow with designer makeup, handbags, and jewelry. Later, she expanded her operations, stealing takeout across the entire campus, randomly snatching orders from under dorm buildings, grabbing whatever looked appealing. The takeout packaging grew increasingly luxurious: sometimes it was from a high-end hotpot place, sometimes a whole durian. Back then, I often wondered how she, a fellow scholarship student with an allowance of only $800 a month, could afford such lavish meals. It wasn’t until we were working on a group project that she approached me. “If you help me with this part, I’ll give you something good.” I was curious what she meant by “something good,” so I pressed her. “What kind of good thing?” she whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. “Whatever takeout you want, I’ll steal it for you. No, I mean, I’ll get it for you.” She then watched my reaction, a smug look on her face. I quickly waved my hands, refusing. “No, no, I can do this part, it’s fine. You don’t have to do that.” But she interpreted my refusal as disdain, and from that moment on, she silently resented me. 2 Later, whispers began in the dorm group chats. “Who took my takeout?” every now and then. “My package went missing, has anyone seen it?” I didn’t know it then, but the thief was living right beside me. When our homeroom teacher asked if anyone’s takeout had gone missing, Lily threatened me. She said if I dared to expose her, she’d claim I was her accomplice, dragging me down with her. The ridiculous part was, I actually listened to her then. I agreed to keep her secret. But this time, I’d make sure she got a truly “free meal” – courtesy of the justice system. I’d just returned to the dorm to find Lily coming in, laden with four or five takeout bags. My gaze fixated on her bags. Lily, noticing my stare, eyed me warily. “Don’t even think about it. I’m not sharing. Stop looking.” I plastered on a fawning smile. “Oh, what did you order? It smells amazing! How much was it? Can I see the receipt?” Lily hugged her bags tightly. “None of your business what I eat! Order your own food on the app, hmph.” “I just meant you’re eating so deliciously,” I countered. Lily smirked triumphantly. “Of course. You, a poor scholarship student, could never afford such fancy food. Don’t even dream about it.” I spotted a takeout slip on her desk and snatched it. The name on it was Bethany Chase. I shouted, “This receipt says Bethany Chase’s name, doesn’t it?!” Lily snatched the slip back with a jerk. “What are you looking at? My friend ordered this for me. Don’t be so dramatic.” I narrowed my eyes at the faint blush on Lily’s ear tips—her tell-tale sign of guilt. Bethany Chase was infamous in the Chemistry department for her explosive temper. Just last week, she’d verbally flayed a classmate for two hours straight in the hallway for using her laundry detergent without permission. I pulled out my phone, pretending to go get hot water, but actually hid around the corridor corner and started recording. “Where’s my eel rice?!” Ten minutes later, Bethany’s furious roar echoed from downstairs. She started bombarding the dorm group chat, accusing some “inhuman creature” of stealing her takeout. Seeing no one respond, she stomped towards the dorm supervisor’s room, ready to demand action. At that moment, I strategically poked my head out from the water station, phone in hand. “I think I just saw someone carrying a bag with a neon Japanese restaurant logo. They went to the left side of the dorms, but I didn’t get a good look at their face.” Bethany immediately set out to knock on every dorm room door, but many chose not to open. She decided to simply sit by the trash cans and wait. I returned to the dorm to find Lily had finished her meal. “Lily,” I said, “even though I can’t afford such food, can I help you throw away the trash? Just to smell the aroma?” Lily looked at me condescendingly. “Fine, fine. I know someone like you will never eat such high-class food in your life. I’ll be merciful and let you throw it away.” I took her takeout bag and walked towards the trash cans. Bethany, who was guarding them, immediately spotted the bag in my hand and rushed towards me. “So, it was you all along! You thief! And you’re playing the victim! I’m going to expose you, just you wait!” Bethany yelled. “If it were me,” I said calmly, “would I have pointed you in that direction?” Bethany rolled her eyes. “Who knows what you were thinking at the time? I don’t care. Either replace it with an identical meal right now, or pay ten times the price of this meal.” I calmly replied, “Wait until you see this video.” I pulled out my phone and handed her the video I had recorded from the hallway corner. Her face went from disbelief to absolute fury. Knowing Lily was a famous rich girl in our department, Bethany immediately wanted to confront Lily with the video. I quickly stopped her, saying conspiratorially, “If you go now, do you have any other evidence besides this video?” Bethany retorted, “This video is enough! I’ll tear her mouth to shreds!” I gave her a stern look and analyzed. “Think about it: Lily usually presents herself as generous. Who would believe she steals takeout? It’s just this one time, but where there’s one, there’s two. We just need to wait and see.” Bethany scoffed. “Easy for you to say. Are we just going to skip class and sit here watching the building all day?” I looked at Bethany, my voice firm. “Actually, from what I’ve observed these past few days, she’s no longer satisfied with just stealing takeout. Her desk is covered in designer bags and jewelry. Remember? She’s on a scholarship, just like me.” Bethany’s eyes widened in realization. “Now that you mention it, I remember! At the beginning of the semester, she looked like a country bumpkin!” I continued, “Right now, she’d only get a verbal warning or be socially ostracized in the dorm chat. That’s not a real punishment. So, listen to me…” Bethany’s face lit up. “Okay! That’s a good idea! But… what’s your beef with her? You’re so ruthless!” I looked at Bethany. “You’ll find out later.”

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  • ​​The Billionaire Heiress​

    As the sole daughter of the Vance family, my billion-dollar inheritance was shadowed by the agonizing memory of three childhood kidnappings. My father had surrounded me with a hundred bodyguards; even my school commute required three armored vehicles. “Choose a husband,” he’d urged, “one who will protect you day and night.” I chose Lucian Thorne, the one who seemed gentlest to me. Yet, on our wedding day, he dismissed all my bodyguards. I found myself tied to a rooftop, a kidnapper’s blade at my throat. On the other end of the phone, Lucian’s voice was a cold sneer: “Elara Vance, is this really necessary? You had thugs harass Seraphina Thorne. She’s the victim here. Who exactly is this little performance for?” “All I did was assign your bodyguards to protect her 24/7, so you could finally get a taste of living in fear.” I counted the chimes of the city clock from the rooftop. Each hour that passed, I lost another finger. Twenty-four hours later, my blood ran dry, and my heart died with it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I had to choose a husband—my father’s hand still held those eight photographs. This time, my finger swept past Lucian Thorne’s image and landed squarely on the roguish, devil-may-care smile in the far corner. But my father said, “That man is dead.” 1 I stared at the eight photographs in my father’s hand, my finger sweeping past Lucian Thorne’s gentle, almost ethereal face without a tremor, moving directly to the bottom corner, to that dark-skinned, rogue’s smile. My father frowned. “Elara, I thought you liked Lucian Thorne best? Why choose Ryder Blackwood?” I clenched my fingers so tightly my nails dug into my palms. Ryder Blackwood. A top athlete from childhood, but infamous in the D.C. elite scene as a notorious playboy. His skin was perpetually tanned, and he spent his days at racetracks and nightclubs, his female companions rotating more frequently than his designer clothes. My father despised him, having exiled him to a remote, far-flung project in Willow Creek just to get rid of him. But I remembered. In my past life, tied to that rooftop, bleeding out drop by agonizing drop, the last image I saw before plunging was Ryder Blackwood, rushing toward me like a madman—his face contorted with terror and raw anguish. “I’ll choose him,” I whispered, my voice trembling. My father frowned, pulling out his phone to scroll through his contacts, but he paused, awkwardly—he didn’t even have Ryder Blackwood’s number saved. How ironic. These eight men were all his adopted “sons,” yet Ryder Blackwood didn’t even merit a contact entry. His chief assistant quickly called back. “Mr. Vance, Ryder Blackwood met with an accident last month in Willow Creek. A mudslide.” My father sighed. “Elara, choose someone else. Lucian Thorne is actually…” “No. I’m not choosing anyone else.” I stood up abruptly, my throat tight. “Besides him, I want no one.” In my past life, those so-called “brothers” either fawned over Lucian Thorne’s cousin or coldly laughed at my misfortune. Reborn, I’d rather be alone forever than be stabbed by that false tenderness again. I walked out of the office in a daze, Ryder Blackwood’s final expression burned into my mind. If even he was dead, who else in this world would fight for me to the death? Suddenly, a cold hand clamped onto my wrist. I looked up. It was Lucian Thorne. Seraphina Thorne was leaning against him, her slender body subtly trembling, her eyes red-rimmed, as if she’d endured the greatest injustice. Lucian Thorne’s expression was gentle, but his tone was stiff. “Elara, Seraphina isn’t well. Your hot springs resort is empty anyway; let her go there to recuperate for a few days. She’s been having trouble sleeping and coughing a lot lately.” In my past life, I would have softened and agreed instantly. But now, I simply gave them a cold look. “I don’t agree.” With that, I directly called my assistant. “Lock the resort gates. Don’t let any riff-raff slip in.” Lucian Thorne’s face changed instantly. “Elara!” He gripped my wrist roughly, his hold painfully tight. “She’s my cousin. She’ll be family someday. Can’t you be reasonable?” I scoffed, sharply yanking my hand free. “Who among you is family to me?” His pupils constricted, as if stung. “What’s gotten into you? Just because Seraphina wore your hair clip last time? You have rooms full of jewelry. What’s wrong with letting her borrow one?” Seraphina chose that moment to sob, tears clinging to her lashes. “Lucian, it’s alright… Miss Vance looks down on me. I’m not worthy anyway…” I couldn’t be bothered to watch their charade any longer. I turned and walked away. “I said no, and that’s final.” Back in my room, I pulled the covers over my head and tried to sleep. The dizzying sensation of rebirth still churned, until a jarring phone ring jolted me awake. “Miss Vance!” My assistant’s voice was tearful. “Mr. Thorne brought Miss Thorne into the resort! I couldn’t stop them. The bodyguards all listened to him!” I shot upright. Images of my past kidnapping flashed before my eyes—the very bodyguards who were supposed to protect me had just as readily followed Lucian Thorne, abandoning me to my captors. Rushing into the resort, one bodyguard dared to block my path. “Miss Vance, Mr. Thorne instructed that no one is to disturb them.” SLAP! I lashed out, my palm connecting sharply with his face, my body trembling with rage. “You eat my food, but you listen to others? Get out of my sight, now!” The moment I pushed open the inner chamber door, the sight before me made my blood run cold. 2 In the steamy mist of the hot springs, Seraphina Thorne leaned languidly against the pool’s edge, her cheeks flushed with an unnatural blush. “Lucian, I’m so dizzy…” Before she finished, her body went limp, and she started to slide into the water. Lucian Thorne jumped into the pool without hesitation, pulling her into his arms. Water droplets ran down his taut jawline, landing on Seraphina’s bare shoulder. “Lucian Thorne,” I interrupted, my voice cutting through the air. “I told you, you’re not welcome here.” His body stiffened. Seraphina’s eyelashes fluttered in his arms. “Elara!” A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, quickly turning to anger. “Do you have to be so aggressive? She almost fainted! Can’t you be less cruel?!” Seraphina suddenly broke free from his embrace, falling to her knees with a splash before me, her forehead hitting the ground hard. “Miss Vance, I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault!” Blood trickled down her pale cheek. Suddenly, she lunged, grabbing my leg, but the next second, as if shoved, she toppled back into the pool. She struggled in the water, crying out in pain, “Help! I’m cramping!” Lucian Thorne jumped in again to scoop her up. When he emerged, he looked at me with pure disgust. “Elara Vance, you are truly despicable!” He violently shoved me into the pool. BANG! My arm slammed against the pool wall, immediately bruising. “If you ever bully Seraphina like this again,” he said, cradling the trembling Seraphina, his voice icy, “I won’t marry you.” Watching their retreating backs, I climbed out of the pool, feeling humiliated. “Every single person who let them in today—you’re all fired!” As I was changing, my assistant rushed in. “Miss Vance! We found a lead on Ryder Blackwood!” I rushed to Willow Creek that night. The mountain roads, ravaged by heavy rain, were muddy and treacherous. Just as I settled into a small inn, a pair of large hands suddenly grabbed me. The person violently yanked me into a dark alley, a warm hand clamping tightly over my mouth. I looked up in terror, meeting a pair of eyes as bright as stars. “Ryder Blackwood?!” He quickly released me, his masked face flushed red. “Miss Vance, what are you doing in a place like this…?” “You’re not dead?” My voice trembled. He scratched his head sheepishly, revealing a charming little canine tooth. “There was an insider leak on the project here. I used the mudslide as an excuse to fake my death and expose the traitor.” “You can do that?” I asked, surprised. His smile suddenly dimmed. “Did I disappoint you? Do you… always think I’m stupid?” My heart gave a sudden, sharp pang. I grabbed his hand, desperate. “Listen! You have to be back before the 8th, for the wedding!” His body stiffened, his eyes instantly dimming. “Okay. I’ll definitely be there for your wedding.” “You idiot,” I stomped my foot in frustration. “I mean, I’m marrying you…” “Boss! The insider’s getting away!” a shout echoed from the distance. He frantically backed away two steps. “Miss Vance, there might be danger here. You should go back quickly! I’ll be at the wedding!” Ryder Blackwood’s hasty retreating figure quickly vanished into the alley. I stood there, a whirlwind of thoughts in my mind. In my past life, he was the least noticed among the eight. Everyone said he was all brawn and no brains, only fit for nightclubs and outdoor activities. Not like Lucian Thorne, always impeccably suited, glasses glinting as he plotted his strategies. Yet, the most peripheral tasks, the trickiest connections, were always handed to Ryder Blackwood to handle. But now, I realized these so-called “peripheral tasks” involved dealing with the most difficult and shady characters. Without incredible finesse and street smarts, how could he have handled them so flawlessly? On the return journey, I had my assistant create a new digital wedding invitation and send it to Ryder Blackwood. It wasn’t until the middle of the night that my phone finally chimed with a notification. “Miss Vance, the groom’s name is incorrect. Remember to change it.” The “typing…” bubble above the chat flickered for a long time before another message appeared. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be at the wedding.” I couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Nothing I said now would convince him. I’d just have to explain in person when he returned. My phone vibrated relentlessly. Lucian Thorne sent message after message: “Seraphina needs your apology.” “Don’t be so childish.” I opened the screen and, without hesitation, deleted his contact. 3 Knowing Ryder Blackwood was alive, and far more capable than I’d imagined, my mood was brighter than ever before. I began preparing for the wedding. That day, I pushed open the glass door of the bridal shop, immediately assailed by a cloying scent of cheap perfume. “Lucian~ Does this look good on me?” Seraphina Thorne’s sickly sweet voice instantly raised goosebumps on my arms. She was brazenly wearing the wedding gown my mother had custom-ordered for me, admiring herself repeatedly in the mirror. Lucian Thorne watched her tenderly. “Seraphina, you look beautiful in anything.” “Oh, stop it~ You’re such a charmer, Lucian~” Seraphina purred, twirling, the cheap perfume scent permeating the air. I suppressed my anger and walked toward them. The moment Lucian Thorne saw me, his face visibly stiffened. He instinctively stepped forward, blocking Seraphina, his voice deliberately gentle. “Elara, don’t misunderstand. Seraphina isn’t well, and she might… she might not make it to her own wedding day. She just wanted to experience wearing a wedding dress.” Seraphina began to cough delicately. “Take it off,” I interrupted, my voice icy. Seraphina’s eyes immediately welled up. “Miss Vance, I’m so sorry, I just envied you too much.” She trembled, grabbing Lucian Thorne’s sleeve. “It’s all my fault, don’t blame Lucian…” Lucian Thorne’s face hardened. “You’ll be marrying me sooner or later anyway. What does it matter if she tries it on? Can’t you just let her be happy?” “I said, take. It. Off.” I repeated each word slowly, my gaze sweeping over the trembling sales assistants. “When did the wedding dress I ordered become available for others to try on?” Two sales assistants frantically helped Seraphina out of the gown. Several red marks appeared on her fair arms from the tight fabric. Seraphina wept, tears streaming down her face like rain. “I’m sorry, I’m so low, I don’t deserve to wear such beautiful clothes!” She suddenly went limp, collapsing to the floor. Lucian Thorne lunged forward, catching her in one swift motion, then turned to me, roaring, “Elara Vance, are you satisfied?!” “Disinfect it three times,” I said, frowning in disgust. “Don’t leave even a trace of her scent.” Seraphina, covering her face, ran out. Lucian Thorne glared at me, his face livid, then slammed the door shut and left. That evening, my assistant conspiratorially leaned in. “Miss Vance, guess what? That perpetually fragile Seraphina Thorne was hit by a car today! I heard her leg is broken!” She gesticulated excitedly. “If you ask me, it’s karma! She clearly knew Lucian Thorne was your fiancé, yet she was always clinging to him, acting like some innocent little flower. It was disgusting!” I gently swirled the red wine in my glass, a cold smirk touching my lips. “Who told you Lucian Thorne was my fiancé?” My assistant’s eyes widened, nearly dropping the fruit platter. “Miss Vance, are you saying…” “Go tell the wedding planner to change the groom’s name,” I said, taking a sip of wine. “Make it Ryder Blackwood.” “That’s wonderful!” my assistant clapped her hands, excited. “Miss Vance! That Lucian Thorne, even if he seemed decent, had no boundaries. Always clinging to Seraphina Thorne, he was a real player.” I couldn’t help but smile faintly. Even my assistant saw it so clearly. How could I have been so deluded in my past life? Love truly does blind you. With a soft sigh, I shook my head. The next morning, as I stepped out of the company building, my vision suddenly went black. A sack was roughly pulled over my head! “Who?! Let go of me!” I struggled desperately. My assailant violently shoved me into a car. My back slammed hard against the car door, making me gasp in pain. The familiar terror instantly swept through me, memories of my past kidnapping flooding back like a tide. “Please! I’ll give you any amount of money!” My voice trembled uncontrollably, tears soaking the blindfold. My only response was a suffocating silence. Until that familiar scent drifted into my nostrils—Lucian Thorne’s usual cologne. My heart plunged to rock bottom. “You… what do you want…?” “Someone wanted me to teach you a good lesson,” he said, his voice deliberately lowered. Even though I’d already decided not to marry him, his actions now still caused an unbearable ache in my heart. CRACK! An iron bar struck my leg with a sickening thud. The excruciating pain made my vision swim. My heart felt like it was tearing apart. I suppressed the urge to expose his disguise. I curled into a ball in the corner of the car, tears silently soaking the sack. In the last moment before losing consciousness, I heard his cold voice: “Remember this lesson.” 4 The iron bar struck my leg with a dull thud, once, twice, thrice… Fifteen times in all. The sound of bone cracking was sickeningly clear. I screamed until I lost consciousness, then was dumped at the gates of the Vance family estate. The sterile smell of the hospital was acrid and nauseating. From the VIP room next door, Seraphina Thorne’s voice drifted. “Lucian, you’re so tired from spending all your time with me!” My heart twisted with a crushing pain. Lucian Thorne, to get revenge for Seraphina, you could be so utterly brutal! “Daughter!” My father rushed in, embracing me tightly, his voice trembling. “Who did this? I’ll make them wish they were never born!” “It’s okay, Dad,” I said, forcing a smile through the pain. “Just get me a new team of bodyguards!” I added, “Oh, and Ryder Blackwood is alive. Once we’re married, he’ll protect me too.” After my father left, I leaned on a crutch and hobbled to the window. In the garden below, Lucian Thorne was spinning Seraphina around on his back. She whispered something in his ear that made his ear tips flush red, and he smiled with such tenderness. It was a smile I had never received. The day before the wedding, Ryder Blackwood arrived, covered in dust, still smelling of earth. He carefully pulled a smooth jade pendant from his pocket. “Miss Vance, a wedding gift!” “The groom has finally returned,” I said, taking the jade, deliberately raising my voice. Ryder Blackwood froze, his eyes instantly reddening, his lips trembling but unable to speak. My assistant quietly informed me that Lucian Thorne had been missing for the past few days. I scoffed. He was waiting for me to lower my head and apologize, waiting for me to come crying, begging him to return and marry me. Unfortunately, his calculations were wrong. That evening, my phone suddenly vibrated. Seraphina Thorne sent a video—a graphic scene of her and Lucian Thorne entwined, utterly indecent. But quickly, the video was recalled. “Amateurish,” I scoffed, closing my phone. Such tactics were pathetic. Standing by the window, I saw Ryder Blackwood standing alone under the starlit sky, gazing up at my window. He waved to me, his smile warm and resolute. In that moment, my heart felt an unprecedented calm. On the morning of the wedding, my phone rang. “Just apologize to Seraphina, and I’ll come marry you immediately,” Lucian Thorne’s voice was still condescending. “No need,” I said, hanging up crisply, a cold smirk on my lips. At the wedding venue, guests whispered amongst themselves. “Where’s Lucian Thorne?” “Are they going to cancel the wedding?” I ignored them, walking down the aisle, linked arm-in-arm with Ryder Blackwood. His arm muscles were tense, but he carefully controlled his strength, fearful of hurting me. “Let us congratulate Mr. Ryder Blackwood and Miss Elara Vance!” the officiant’s voice boomed through the hall. Just then, the ballroom doors were violently thrown open. Lucian Thorne, pale and late, stood in the doorway, the bouquet in his hand smashing to the floor. I curved my lips into a smile and, under his disbelieving gaze, leaned in and kissed Ryder Blackwood.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392689”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • My Brother’s Golden Bracelet

    On my birthday, my younger brother gave me a 50-gram gold bracelet. That very night, his girlfriend added me on social media and lashed out: “Shameless old hag! If you want a gold bracelet, find yourself a boyfriend! Hurry up and return the bracelet my boyfriend bought for me!” I couldn’t help but let out an angry laugh, then slapped my brother across the face. “Look at the trash you’ve found! Break up with her, now!” 1 On my thirtieth birthday, my younger brother suddenly had a rare moment of conscience. He spent over forty thousand dollars to give me a glittering, massive gold bracelet. That evening, as I was showing it off to my best friend, a social media request instantly doused my high spirits. “Does a gold bracelet from someone else’s boyfriend smell sweet?” ? I paused, stunned. Today was my birthday. The only one who gave me a gold bracelet was my brother, who’s five years younger than me. My hand, quicker than my brain, clicked “accept.” The other side immediately barraged me with a frantic stream of messages. “Shameless old hag! If you want a gold bracelet, find yourself a boyfriend! Hurry up and return the bracelet my boyfriend bought for me!” My breath hitched, and fury surged to my brain. The last vestiges of my sanity made me send back a single question mark after some thought. “Can’t you understand human language? I’m Liam’s girlfriend. I’m giving you until tomorrow to return the bracelet, or don’t blame me for being rude.” I rolled my eyes. Ugh, what a tone. Did she think I was some mistress Liam had found? I tentatively replied, “I’m Liam’s sister. Full-blooded, same parents.” Clearly, I had overthought it. “So what if you’re his sister? Liam is my boyfriend. Don’t tell me you’re his sister—you could be his mother and he still shouldn’t buy you a bracelet. You dared to accept a forty-thousand-dollar bracelet? Aren’t you afraid it’ll burn you?” So, she knew who I was after all. If it wasn’t a mistaken attack, then it was a direct one. I retorted without hesitation: “Do you know who you are? You’re just my brother’s girlfriend, not his wife. And I certainly won’t allow Liam to have such an ill-mannered wife. Otherwise, I’ll break his legs.” She probably blew up, immediately firing back a voice message. The moment I answered, the receiver was filled with a long string of expletives, heavily punctuated by mother-related insults. I tossed my phone onto the sofa, unfurled a face mask, and meticulously smoothed it onto my face. When she tired of yelling, she started threatening me: “Hear me? Return the bracelet tomorrow, or I’ll call you every day and curse you out.” “Tsk,” I scoffed. “Are you done cussing? It’s my turn. My vocabulary is far more extensive than yours…” Beep. She actually hung up. These young people really had no sense of decorum. I dialed back. The message: “The other party has not added you as a friend and cannot be voice called.” She blocked me? Truly, no decorum whatsoever. I was furious! I roared at my brother, who was gaming in his bedroom: “LIAM! I’m giving you three seconds to get over here!” Liam stumbled out, one slipper on, the other hand still clutching his mouse. His face was a mask of terror. “Sis, what’s up? I’m about to take down the enemy’s core.” I tore off my face mask and flung it at him. “Take down your ass! You’d better explain what this is all about!” 2 My brother mumbled, “I wish I had a sister. If I had a sister, I’d never pick on her.” He begrudgingly took the phone I handed him, looked at it for three seconds, and then all the hairs on his body stood on end. He quickly stammered, “Sis, sis, this is definitely a misunderstanding.” I watched him with a mocking smirk. “Oh? How so?” He hemmed and hawed for a long time, then carefully placed the phone on the coffee table, forcing a chuckle. “Sis, sis, don’t get mad first. I’ll ask Savannah what’s going on.” I rotated my wrist. “You’d better get to the bottom of it fast. You know I don’t have much patience.” My brother nodded, then bolted as if fleeing for his life. I curled up on the sofa, growing angrier the more I thought about it. Both my parents were workaholics. Liam, you could say, I raised him from childhood. He was a difficult child, causing endless trouble from a young age. Every time, I was the one cleaning up his messes. During his rebellious phase, he defied them in every way. My parents tried to rein him in but found they couldn’t. Finally, left with no choice, I, a fresh college student, took three months off. With sheer sibling dominance, I disciplined him until he was perfectly obedient. Until he cried, begging me, “Sis, please go back to school. I really know I was wrong.” My mom sometimes brings up those days, shaking her head. “To see you, such a small person, with such incredible strength. You literally beat six-foot-tall Liam until he cried for mercy.” Liam would chime in, “You guys just talk about it, but she really hit, hit to kill, like she didn’t care if she killed me.” From then on, I discovered that reasoning with Liam was useless; only brute force worked. In the entire family, this kid feared nothing and no one, except me. Whenever he acted like a jerk, if my parents just said, “I’ll tell your sister,” he’d instantly turn into a sweet little angel. I hit him, but I was also truly good to him. I made sure he had all the gaming equipment, sports gear, and electronics a boy could want. When he graduated college and said he wasn’t ready to enter society, I defied my parents’ pressure and paid for him to travel for a year. His job was too far from home, so I gave him my brand-new, tens-of-thousands-of-dollars car to drive, taking the subway to work myself. Finally, this kid grew up, wised up. He proactively used his bonus to buy me a gold bracelet. I felt like a diligent old farmer, toiling for decades, finally seeing the fruits of my harvest. And now, I was being cursed at, called a shameless old hag? Forget Liam giving me a gold bracelet; given all I’ve done for him over the years, I’d deserve a whole apartment if he gave it to me. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I grabbed my phone and called my childhood friend: “Help me look someone up. Savannah Jenkins, Liam’s girlfriend…” 3 The next morning, I woke with dark circles under my eyes. A glance at the clock showed it was already 7:30 AM. After getting ready, I walked to the door and saw my car keys hanging by the entrance. The anger that had somewhat subsided overnight flared up again. I heard Liam picks up Savannah for work every morning, right? I bought the car, and I take the subway, while they drive my car, shielded from wind and sun. And then they complain about the bracelet I gave him? Am I some kind of big-time chump? Let them take the subway. I slipped on my shoes, tossed the car keys into my bag, and humming a little tune, I got into the elevator. When I reached the basement and opened the car door, I couldn’t help but frown. The entire car was stuffed with all sorts of plush toys. The passenger seat was decked out in pink, with a tacky pink bow tied to the headrest. Even more ridiculous, the passenger sun visor had a note stuck to it: “Savannah’s Seat. No Sluts Allowed.” Hmph! She really thinks she’s something. I leaned in, ripped off the note, then found a bag and stuffed all the fluffy toys into it, tossing them into the trunk. Only when all that was done did I look at my car’s original interior, finally satisfied, and nodded. Just as I arrived at the office, Liam’s custom ringtone blared. “Sis, where are my car keys? Did you drive the car away?” I sat down, opened my computer, and said coldly, “What? Isn’t it my car? Can’t I drive it whenever I want? Do I need to report to you?” Liam paused, then switched to a more flattering tone. “Sis, dearest sis, are you still mad? I asked Savannah yesterday. She just loves me too much, so she’s a bit possessive. You, being someone who hasn’t been in love, wouldn’t understand this feeling, so don’t be so hard on Savannah.” Look at him, is he even speaking sense? My fists instinctively tightened. “Someone who hasn’t been in love wouldn’t understand this feeling,” he said. When I was dating guys with six-packs and sweet, innocent smiles, this kid was still immersed in angsty teenage fiction. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I had a very important meeting this morning; I couldn’t afford to get angry. Anger affected clear thinking. I softened my tone. “Go to hell, you idiot. I’ll deal with you when I get home.” 4 After hanging up, I began preparing materials for the morning meeting. Savannah Jenkins, who had unblocked me, messaged: “You tramp, it’s all because of you that I lost my perfect attendance bonus! You owe me! We don’t even care about driving your crappy car. I order you to immediately buy Liam and me a new car, or don’t blame me for being rude!” I took three deep breaths, but the more I thought, the angrier I got. I dialed her directly for a voice call. She answered and immediately launched into a passionate tirade. “Was your mother just a placenta when she gave birth to you? Are your brain and large intestine switched? How else could your head be so full of crap? Read more books, stop daydreaming all day. Buy you a car? Why don’t I buy a hammer and smash you? You should save the money you spend on game skins and invest in some brains. You act like a total idiot every day. Savannah Jenkins, right? Let me tell you, as long as I’m alive, if you ever step foot in my house, you can take my surname!” The moment I finished speaking, I slammed down the phone and promptly blocked her. My motto: get revenge, no internalizing. Three minutes later, Liam’s phone rang again. I immediately blocked all his contact methods and forced a charming smile at my reflection. But before my smile even faded, my phone tiredly rang again. The moment I answered, Liam’s voice came through the receiver: “Sis, why did you block…” Snap! I cut him off. The general manager’s assistant emerged, announcing, “Ms. Lane, your department’s been called to the meeting.” I smiled, silencing my phone. This project was crucial, tied to our entire department’s quarterly bonus. Absolutely no room for error. I picked up my laptop and walked confidently to the meeting room. There was a lot to report. It was two hours later when it was my turn to summarize. “Sis, sis! Don’t stop me, I have something urgent to tell my sister!” A familiar voice suddenly blared from outside the meeting room. I frowned. Liam, refusing to back down, was making a racket at the door. The general manager’s assistant whispered a few words to the general manager, who glared at me, displeased. I gave him an awkward smile. “Mr. Liu, give me two minutes.” I grabbed a broom from the corner, then pulled open the meeting room door. “Sis, let me explain…” I smiled at him, then immediately swung the broom at him. “Ow, sis, sis, why are you hitting me again?” I said gently, “Go to hell. If this project falls apart, I’ll skin you alive when I get home.” Liam shivered, quickly explaining, “I didn’t know you had an important meeting.” I glared at him. “Now you know. Get lost.” Liam nodded like a pecking chick. “Then I’ll wait for you.” 5 Returning to the conference room, I glanced at my watch. Exactly two minutes. “Mr. Liu, I can present now.” Mr. Liu’s gaze at me was a little uncomfortable. He took a sip of tea. “No, no need. The proposal is quite good. We’ll leave it to your department. That’s all for today.” He finished speaking, stood up, and strode out. At the door, he turned back to me and said, “Oh, about young Liam, skinning someone is illegal, you know.” I froze. After Mr. Liu left, my colleagues in the department gave me a thumbs-up. “Ms. Lane, I never knew you had such a fierce side.” “Yeah, when you were hitting your brother, Mr. Liu said he was glad he never pushed you too hard before.” Me: … Great. My carefully maintained image as a graceful lady had just shattered into a million pieces. 6 At noon, when work ended, Liam was waiting for me in our company lobby. When he saw me, he stubbornly walked up, a hint of complaint in his voice. “Sis, I’m 25 this year. Aren’t you being a bit too disrespectful?” I gave him an unamused glance. “Spit it out.” Liam rolled his eyes at me. “Sis, no wonder you don’t have a boyfriend. Why can’t you be gentle like Savannah? And listen, it’s fine if you hit me or yell at me—you’re my sister. But you can’t insult Savannah. She’s a sensitive girl; you cursed her out so horribly, she cried. This afternoon, when you get off work, go apologize to Savannah and buy her a gold bracelet.” My brows furrowed deeper and deeper, and I looked at him as if he were an utter idiot. I gave him a cold laugh. “I think you’re itching for another beating, aren’t you?” He paused, a hint of anger in his eyes. “Sis, don’t be endless. Do you really think I can’t beat you? I’ve always let you win before, but now I have a woman to protect. If you keep this up, I’ll fight back.” Now it was my turn to freeze. He was right. He was over six feet tall and weighed around 160 pounds. If it came down to a real fight, I truly wasn’t his match. It just stung a little. My little brother, whom I had raised since childhood, was now saying such things to me for a woman he’d known for less than six months. I looked at him mockingly. “Liam, I suggest you get a specialist referral to a psychiatrist and have your head examined. Are you selectively forgetting what Savannah texted me yesterday? So I get cursed at, and I’m not allowed to curse back, is that it?” Liam grew impatient. “Sis, why are you so petty? I’ve already explained that Savannah just cares about me too much. This morning, you drove the car away without a word, and that was wrong of you. It cost Savannah her perfect attendance bonus. It’s only natural for her to be angry and curse at you a little. How could you say such awful things to her?” “Hah!” I actually laughed, genuinely furious. “My car, I drive it away. And I deserve to be cursed at for it, is that it? If you’re so capable, buy your own car and drive her! What kind of trash thinks it’s righteous to leech off me?” “So you’re finally saying what you really think, are you?” Liam’s eyes suddenly blazed red, looking at me as if I were an enemy. “Savannah was right after all. You just use me to flaunt your superiority. It’s just a cheap car, I don’t care for it.” What was he talking about? I couldn’t hold back anymore. SLAP! My hand connected with his face. Liam’s head snapped sideways. He suddenly went berserk, grabbing my shoulders and shoving me. I stumbled backward a few steps, my leg hitting the corner of a table. Instantly, blood streamed down. “Sis…” His face filled with panic as reason returned. “Get out…” My entire being radiated a low pressure. Liam stood rooted to the spot, stunned. I snarled again, “Get out…” Just as Liam stood there, bewildered, his phone rang. After hanging up, he walked towards me, speaking softly. “Sis, you’re not short on money anyway. Can you give me the bracelet you gave me yesterday? I’ll return it when I earn enough…” I snatched off the bracelet and threw it at him, furious. “Get out!” Liam picked up the bracelet, hesitated for a moment, then ran off. I looked at the blood gushing from my ankle, sucking in a sharp breath. However, the pain in my heart was a hundred times worse than the pain in my foot. Just as I was about to leave, my phone lit up. “Old hag, still want to fight me? When I marry Liam, I’ll kick you out of the house.”

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  • Star Sister

    I flew back to the States only to find my sister, a rising star, being bullied on a reality show. The culprits? My uncle’s mistress and my ex-boyfriend. The whole internet had branded my sister a desperate gold-digger, and the object of her alleged obsession was an ex I’d grown bored of after just two months. Brooke, the mistress, flaunted a lavish, self-made persona, bankrolled by my family’s money. Meanwhile, my sister, Mia, was ridiculed for showing off a handmade barrette I’d crafted for her as a child, accused of buying cheap knock-offs. Learning all this, I made a snap decision, pouring a significant investment into the show. I was going to walk right onto that set and stand by my sister. The moment Mia and I revealed our true identities, those who’d tormented her stumbled and fell, scrambling to save face. My ex, especially, tried to worm his way back into my life, proposing a reconciliation. I simply offered him a cold, mocking smile. “You, Riley? You were nothing more than a minor plot point in a game my fiancé and I played. There was never any ‘dating,’ so what exactly are we ‘reconciling’?” 1 The day I landed back in the States, my butler was already there, phone in hand, showing me a live stream. It was Heartstrings Unscripted, America’s hottest reality dating show, boasting astronomical viewership thanks to its live format. And my sister, Mia, was one of its featured cast members. On screen, Mia sat hunched in a corner, eyes rimmed with red, clearly nursing a raw wound. The frantic scroll of comments flying across the screen quickly filled in the blanks. Mia, following the show’s format, was paired with Riley Hayes, a popular up-and-coming actor, for a three-day challenge. But Riley was openly flirting with Brooke Vance, a former actress who’d recently reignited her career. He’d even declared his preference for Brooke, telling Mia to “know her place.” Normally, this wouldn’t be a catastrophe. But Riley consistently teamed up with Brooke, leaving Mia high and dry. When Mia, desperate to complete a task so she wouldn’t starve, approached Riley for help, Brooke had chimed in with a saccharine-laced jab. “Mia, sweetie, you seem really fond of Riley. Little girls are just so clingy, aren’t they? Riley, why don’t you go with her?” Riley was quick to jump in, “She only picked me as her partner because she won the last game. I never said I’d actually cooperate.” The chat instantly erupted with praise for Riley: “What a stand-up guy!” “So honorable!” Fans gushed over Riley and Brooke’s undeniable chemistry. Meanwhile, my sister, who’d worked tirelessly to win that game, was slammed as a desperate clinger, accused of trying to ride Riley’s coattails. Seeing this, I couldn’t help but let out a cold snort. Riley, “honorable”? Even he wouldn’t dare utter such a lie. I immediately had my assistant contact the show’s director, instructing them to add a new segment. I was buying my way in. Within minutes, I received a confirmation: I’d join as a “special guest,” a family member. “Ms. Hayes,” my assistant cautioned, “going on the show yourself might invite some backlash.” After all, the internet rarely looks kindly upon those who buy their way onto a set. “No matter,” I replied, unconcerned. “I’m not in this for the money.” I quickly changed into a fresh outfit and headed straight for the live set. Someone needed to make it crystal clear that my sister wasn’t some random nobody anyone could push around. By the time I arrived, Mia had already retreated to her room, crying. I glanced at the live chat; the insults were still piling up. 【Mia’s so dramatic. The show never said Riley had to cooperate just because she picked him, right?】 【Cry when you don’t get your way? That’s her only move?】 【Can this Mia just leave? I only want to see Riley and Brooke’s sweet romance.】 The director quickly introduced me to the audience, and then I stepped into frame. “No way? Both sisters trying to milk this for clout?” “Is the show really coddling Mia? They’re calling her sister in because she’s upset?” Ignoring the rapidly scrolling comments, I walked directly to Mia’s door and knocked. Just then, Riley emerged from his own room, freezing at the sight of me. “You… you’re…?” He was clearly stunned by my presence, yet he tried to feign ignorance, as if we’d never met. I swept my gaze over him, a slow, dismissive appraisal, then curled my lips into a knowing smile. “Well, well. Looks like you’ve certainly upgraded since I last saw you.” “What are you talking about? Do I know you?” A flicker of panic, quick as lightning, darted through Riley’s eyes. I simply raised a brow, the smile lingering, and said nothing more. Of course, he’d panic at the sight of me. Years ago, before he’d even broken into the industry, I’d… well, I’d kept him for two months. Only two months, mind you. He was too childish. I was paying for his upkeep, and he wouldn’t even pour me a glass of water. If I hadn’t been so swamped with work, I would have kicked him out much sooner. “Blair! When did you get back? I missed you so much!” Before I could reply to Riley, the door swung open, and Mia launched herself into my arms. She clung to me, trembling like a wounded fawn. I spared a brief glance at Riley, a silent warning in my gaze. But the internet, predictably, twisted it. 【OMG, both sisters like the same guy? This Blair isn’t any better.】 2 Mia and I retreated into her room. She didn’t mention the bullying, only asking why I was on the show. When I told her I was a guest, her eyes widened in surprise. Given the live stream, she didn’t press further. Just then, Riley and Brooke knocked. “Mia, sweetie, I convinced Riley to come do the task with you! I won a challenge today, so I can use my own money to treat us to dinner. You and your sister should come along!” My sister, bless her heart, was so naive, so sheltered. Brooke was clearly trying to subtly flaunt her “generosity” and “influence,” but Mia, beaming, simply said, “Oh, thank you, Brooke! I’ve been starving all day!” Predictably, Mia was slammed again. 【She’s got some nerve. Brooke won that prize fair and square, just being polite, and Mia’s actually going?】 【Never seen anyone so shameless. Can she please not bring her sister along to be a third wheel?】 【‘Starved all day’? More like she just didn’t try to do the tasks.】 Mia tugged me out, but as we approached the car, Brooke feigned a look of embarrassment. “The show only assigned a four-seater car… and there are five of us.” I scrolled through the comments on my phone, noting how everyone was praising Brooke’s beauty and kindness. I raised a brow and quietly put my phone away. “If I’m not mistaken,” I said, my gaze resting on Brooke, “this car was Mia’s reward for completing a task.” Brooke’s smile faltered slightly. “Yes… yes, it was. But I’m inviting you to dinner, right? You wouldn’t really make me walk, would you? It’s fine, really, I can just walk.” She was playing the victim, using reverse psychology. I could already picture the vitriol that would flood the chat. Mia started to speak, but I shot Brooke a friendly smile. “You misunderstand. I simply meant, we can’t let you treat us for nothing. I’ll drive.” With that, I opened the back passenger door and gestured. “The show’s partners should sit together. You two hop in. Mia can ride shotgun.” Brooke was officially partnered with another actor, Jake Miller, on the show. By bringing Jake into the equation, I made it impossible for her to publicly switch him out for Riley. She could only manage an awkward laugh and climb in. Everyone settled, leaving Riley no seat. He looked frantic. “I’m Mia’s partner too! I can drive!” He reached for the car keys in my hand. I leaned against the driver’s side door, watching him with a knowing smile. “My sister chose you, but you were forced. Let’s not force anything, then. Everyone will be happier.” I threw Riley’s own words back at him, and his face instantly darkened. Then, the back window lowered, and Brooke leaned out. “Mia’s sister, I only managed to finish my task because Riley helped me. Wouldn’t it be rude to go to dinner without him?” I caught Brooke’s eye, a silent jab, implying I was planning to freeload. I crossed my arms, speaking slowly. “Then you two can get out. Mia and I will handle our own dinner.” Brooke, hearing this, suddenly lost her temper. She flung open the car door. “Fine, we’ll get out! Anyway, the show told me to use my own money today!” She stepped out, then turned to Mia. “Mia, you better think this through. You still haven’t finished your task. You have a car, but you won’t eat. I can pay for my own meal.” “What exactly are you trying to say?” I asked, my voice still sweet, but my eyes fixed on Brooke. “Are you threatening my sister to abandon her own flesh and blood? Or just bragging that my sister’s assigned partner helped you complete your task, leaving her to starve?” I kept my smile, laying bare every trap in her words. “That’s not what I meant at all!” Brooke stammered, quickly backtracking. I chuckled softly. “Of course not. I’m sure you wouldn’t. Since you can spend money, why don’t you just call a cab and head to dinner?” With that, I opened the driver’s door and slid inside, turning to look at Jake, who was still in the back seat. “If you don’t want to be a third wheel, I don’t mind having one more person join us.” 3 Jake was an industry veteran, well aware of the game. Brooke and Riley were milking their “romance” for publicity, Mia was the sacrificial lamb, and he was just a prop. “I’d appreciate that, Blair.” So, Jake didn’t move. He, too, saw no appeal in being a pointless third wheel. 【So, she’s breaking up the TV couple?】 【Good! Brooke and Riley are so much better together.】 【LOL, Blair tried to show off for Riley and totally crashed and burned.】 【Riley’s Mia’s partner. Brooke got help from him to finish her task, then turned around and mocked Mia for not finishing hers. That’s pretty messed up.】 【You don’t get it! This is all staged by the show for drama! Jake’s such a softy. Why give the Hayes sisters a pass? He should have just gotten out.】 I was about to start the car when Brooke tapped on the window. “Something wrong?” I lowered it. Brooke put on a friendly facade. “The show rules state we can’t use our own money. Even as a new guest, you have to follow the rules.” “I know,” I replied, nodding. “But if you want to eat something, I can pay for you.” I looked at Brooke, knowing she was trying to score points with the audience. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m worried I might max out your card.” 【Blair is so ungrateful.】 【This woman is pure trash. Brooke is being so kind, and she’s just throwing shade.】 【These two Hayes sisters are something else. One’s a crybaby faker, the other’s a pretentious schemer.】 “Blair… you, you shouldn’t say that.” Mia tugged at my sleeve, trying to remind me we were on a live stream. I rolled up the window and started the car. “I’m just telling the truth, Mia. I’m genuinely thinking of her finances.” The online backlash raged throughout the drive. It wasn’t until I pulled up to The Obsidian Room, the nation’s largest and most exclusive restaurant chain, that the commentators had to admit one thing: the “max out your card” line might have been true. “Are you sure we’re eating here?” Jake asked, breaking the silence that had settled in the car. “Absolutely,” I confirmed. “Where else would we go?” “The production team won’t pay for this,” Jake warned again. I nodded. “I don’t expect them to. They couldn’t afford it anyway.” This place was one of the top restaurants in the country, even internationally. Breathing inside felt expensive. After all, the entrance fee alone was ten thousand dollars per person. The hostess approached, asking if we had a reservation. Mia, unfazed, simply clung to my arm, looking around with wide-eyed curiosity. Jake, trailing behind, looked increasingly anxious, probably regretting his decision. “Should’ve stayed in the car,” I could almost hear him mutter. The production crew, too, were sweating. They knew an investor had forced me onto the show, but they had no idea I was the investor. They were probably racking their brains trying to figure out how to bill me for the meal later. I produced a small card. The hostess’s eyes widened as she quickly scanned it. She immediately bowed, her voice dripping with warmth. “Ms. Hayes, right this way.” 【OMG! She actually got in?!】 【What card did she just use? A black card? If it’s a black card, that still counts as using her own money!】 【The penthouse suite! That’s an impossible reservation to get!】 【Is this sister actually a rich heiress?】 “What was that card? How did we just walk in? Three of us, plus three camera operators… ten grand each, you seriously…?” Jake looked at me with genuine concern. I nudged my chin at the card I’d just shown, which was now back in my hand. “Just a business card. Sometimes, knowing the right people works better than flashing a credit card.” 4 I didn’t just bring the camera crew inside; I even arranged a private room for the rest of the production staff. “Blair,” Mia said, glancing at her phone, “Brooke just texted, asking where we are. She wants to pay for us.” I chuckled. “Text her the address. Whether they come is their problem.” Jake looked at the table laden with exquisite dishes, giving me a thumbs-up from across the table. “Seriously rich.” This meal alone would easily run into six figures. I simply raised a brow, a knowing smile playing on my lips. Being rich was my least remarkable quality, and yet, it was undeniably the most practical. Soon, Brooke and Riley arrived, but it wasn’t them who first entered our private room. It was the restaurant manager. “Ms. Hayes, there are two individuals at the entrance claiming to be with your party.” I took a slow sip of my exorbitantly priced nutrient smoothie. “Ah, yes. They’re here to pay for me.” The manager scrutinized my expression, then immediately understood. “Understood. I’ll arrange it immediately.” Brooke and Riley never made it to our table. They waited by the entrance until we finished our meal. “Did you… did you use your own money?” Brooke pressed, her voice laced with an urgent curiosity. When they’d tried to enter the restaurant, the entrance fee alone had been twenty thousand dollars for the two of them. It felt like highway robbery. “Nope.” I waited for the valet to bring my car around. Brooke, unconvinced, followed me, pushing further. “You didn’t use your own money? Did the production team pay for you? Your meal was so expensive, even if the show is good for covering expenses, the place you chose was just… too much.” “Was it expensive?” I countered. Brooke pondered for a moment. “I know you wanted to experience something lavish, but the production team has a budget. What you did was a bit inappropriate. Maybe you should sign an IOU with the show? They’re so understanding, you can pay them back slowly.” “Brooke,” Jake interjected, sensing the need to protect his nominal partner, “Blair didn’t pay for the meal.” He, too, saw an opportunity to earn some goodwill from the audience. I understood his motive and didn’t mind giving him a little boost. Brooke froze. “Didn’t pay? What do you mean? Did you just… dine and dash?” Jake didn’t know how to explain. The meal had made it clear to him that my identity was far from ordinary. So, faced with Brooke’s relentless questioning, he simply fell silent. “Ms. Hayes, our owner just called specifically to prepare a gift for you.” The restaurant manager hurried out, carrying a selection of jewelry and a set of car keys. “How terribly gauche,” I muttered, taking the items and tossing them to Mia. I didn’t bother to explain further, simply got into my car and drove off. Mia held up the jewelry, comparing each piece to her ears. “Blair, these earrings are beautiful!” Her eyes sparkled. “Good,” I replied. “When we get back, run my bath. I need to soak.” “No problem, Blair! With me here, you can just relax.” She promptly put the earrings on herself. Back at the filming location, after my bath in Mia’s room, she told me everyone was gathering downstairs. I emerged, still wearing a face mask. “Tomorrow, each pair of partners will choose one person to take the other home for dinner. You can meet family or friends.” The director had barely finished speaking when Riley suddenly stood up. “Director, I’d like to switch partners.” Riley’s announcement stunned everyone. Brooke, in particular, looked flushed with shy pleasure, clearly flattered that Riley would openly defy the show for her. Only I watched Riley with an amused, knowing glint in my eyes. “You want to switch partners, Riley? Is it because you don’t want to go to my house, or are you worried about Mia coming to yours?” “Then again, if I were you, I’d be scared too.”

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  • The Golden Dragon’s Folly

    The War of the Realms ended. My sister’s husband returned home, safe and sound. But my husband fell in battle. Everyone pitied me. Yet I knew. It wasn’t my brother-in-law who returned. It was my husband, Kaelen. He and my brother-in-law were identical twins, their magical prowess so evenly matched that no one, not even their own kin, noticed the deception. Kaelen explained it to me, his voice a low murmur: “Aelia, I did this for the greater good. My brother, Orion, is the Crown Prince of the Dragonkin. If our people were to learn that the Prince had fallen, it would surely plunge the kingdom into chaos. And your sister, Lyra, is so pure and gentle; she could never bear the sorrow of losing a loved one. I am simply taking Orion’s place, caring for her for a while. Once stability returns, I will rejoin you, truly.” I believed him. Until Kaelen condemned me to be torn to pieces on false charges of conspiring with fiends. It was only then, as I watched him embrace my sister, their closeness a dagger to my heart, that I understood it had all been his cruel design. I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day the Dragonkin celebrated their great victory, the day the grim news of my husband’s death arrived. Kaelen held Lyra close, silent, while the clan looked upon me with pity. Without hesitation, I chose to remarry. Kaelen believed that by impersonating the Dragonkin Crown Prince, he would bask in endless glory and power. He had no idea that by casting me aside, he had forfeited his only chance to become the Sovereign of the Dragonkin… … “Aelia, Kaelen… he fell!” The agonizing torment of being flayed alive still vibrated through my body, leaving me trembling. When I opened my eyes again, those words reached me. It was King Theron, the Lord of the Dragonkin, who spoke. He had only two sons: one, the Crown Prince, who had taken my sister as his Crown Princess. The other was my husband, Kaelen. Now, King Theron, who should have been mourning the genuine loss of his son, sat on his throne, gazing at the coffin before him, his face etched with profound grief. My own heart, however, surged with an uncontrollable, silent joy. I had been reborn! Before I could speak, my sister’s voice drifted from beside me: “Sister, I know your heart aches. Weep if you must.” Lyra looked down at me, her face carefully composed into a mask of pity, yet her powdered cheeks remained perfectly unblemished. I lifted my gaze, not to her, but to the man standing at her side – my brother-in-law. No, that wasn’t Orion. Orion already lay within that coffin. The man before me was my husband, Kaelen. The one who should have been embracing me in intimate sorrow now stood with his fingers intertwined with Lyra’s. Noticing my gaze, he turned to me, his eyes wide with an exaggerated surprise. A bitter, mirthless laugh rose in my chest. Kaelen’s acting, as always, was flawlessly convincing. In my past life, even when I sensed something was wrong, it had taken me agonizingly long to confirm that the man by Lyra’s side was truly Kaelen. Now, I saw through his charade instantly. A fresh wave of wails broke the silence. “My son! My beloved son!” Queen Seraphina, Kaelen’s mother, threw herself onto the coffin, fat tears streaming down her face. She then turned, pointing a trembling finger at me. “It’s you! You, the bringer of ill fortune! You cursed my son to his death!” The Queen had never liked me. She believed I lacked decorum, lacked grace, that I was simply unworthy of her son. I had always harbored doubts about Kaelen’s promises on this front. He had sworn to me, time and again, “If Mother ever clashes with you, I will always, always stand by your side, no matter what.” Slam! The Queen’s hand lashed out, a brutal slap across my face. Still not appeased, she raised her hand to strike again. King Theron, momentarily forgetting his grief, quickly ordered the guards to intervene. The hall dissolved into disarray. Through it all, Kaelen held Lyra’s hand, standing silently to the side. He even pulled her closer, as if to shield her from the unsightly scene. From his pocket, he produced a gleaming, vibrant Water Arcane Crystal, presenting it to Lyra like a prized treasure, his voice soft, coaxing. “My Lyra, this is something special I prepared just for you.” A bitter smile touched my lips. As a Phoenix, I was attuned to fire, yet I had always longed for a Water Arcane Crystal. In my previous life, I had pleaded with Kaelen, begging him to bring one back for me. He had promised, but it had never materialized. Now I knew. He hadn’t failed to find one; he had simply never intended that gift for me. Not even when Lyra had no need for such a gem. Not even when he had once sworn he would always protect me, yet now stood by, watching. Lyra, sensing my gaze, subtly stepped in front of Kaelen, shielding him, a hint of displeasure in her eyes. She reminded me, “Sister, why do you keep staring at my husband? Father King is speaking to you.” King Theron sighed, his voice weary. “Aelia, according to tradition, when one’s spouse falls in battle, the survivor must observe a century of mourning. I won’t force you, but I must ask, what are your intentions?” I shook my head. “I choose the second path. I will remarry.” The entire hall fell silent, everyone staring at me in utter disbelief. Kaelen was the first to speak. “Nonsense! Aelia, how can you marry another?” This time, King Theron and Lyra also sensed something was amiss. Though confused, King Theron spoke gently. “Orion, this is your sister-in-law’s private matter. It should be her decision.” Kaelen was speechless, his eyes fixed on me. Lyra was even more agitated than Kaelen. She stepped forward, her gaze filled with condemnation. “Aelia, your husband has just fallen. His body isn’t even cold, and instead of mourning him, you’re clamoring to remarry. If this news spreads, do you mean to let everyone think that all the Phoenix Lineage are as heartless as you?” Queen Seraphina stared at me, her eyes venomous. “Had Kaelen not been so insistent on marrying you, I would never have let a scheming wretch like you into our house!” I replied, my expression calm, “Since Kaelen loved me so much in life, he surely wouldn’t wish me to mourn for him, wasting away my entire existence. I will remarry!” Kaelen cried out, anxious, “You—” King Theron cut him off. “Enough. Since Aelia’s mind is made up, let it be as she says. However, the ancient compact between the Dragonkin and Phoenix Lineage states clearly, Aelia, you may remarry, but you must choose a male of our Dragonkin.” I turned, looking out at the throng of onlookers, and asked in a clear voice, “Is there anyone here willing to take me as his wife?” No one stepped forward. Some looked as though they wanted to, but were pulled back by their families. Others, meeting my gaze, quickly averted their eyes, as if encountering a venomous serpent. A wave of helplessness washed over me. The Divine Order had given me only two paths: widowhood or remarriage. Could fate truly not be altered? Kaelen, seeing the situation, couldn’t help but add a sneering remark. “Aelia, no one would dare marry a heartless woman like you. You might as well just mourn properly.” His voice was filled with a certainty that churned my stomach. Just then, a figure descended from the heavens. “I will!” I stared, my eyes widening. It was Roric, the Dragonkin’s War Lord! He was known for his fierce, almost ruthless reputation, yet at this moment, he knelt on one knee before King Theron, addressing him with sincere earnestness. “King Theron, I am willing to take Aelia as my wife.” Kaelen instantly bristled. “Roric, what business is this of yours? A word of friendly advice: my brother barely just died, and Aelia is already desperate to remarry. How dare you take a woman like that into your home? Are you not afraid she’ll bring misfortune upon you?” Roric stepped in front of me, frowning. “Crown Prince, Aelia is your sister-in-law. Instead of protecting her, you slander her with false accusations.” Kaelen retorted, indignant, “I speak only the truth!” Roric ignored him, turning to me. “Aelia, will you marry me? I will pledge my loyalty to you, to be by your side for all eternity. The Divine Order bears witness: if I ever break this vow, my soul shall be utterly shattered!” My heart trembled. In his gaze, I saw only unwavering resolve. I couldn’t help but nod. “Yes.” With this, Kaelen had no further grounds for objection. Roric and I sealed our union on the spot. King Theron, seeing the matter resolved, waved a weary hand at me. “Go.” He then announced to all present, “I am old, and have lost a son. I no longer have the heart to continue as Dragon King. Three days from now, I shall pass the throne to Orion.” Orion was my brother-in-law’s name, now usurped by Kaelen. I mused silently. In my previous life, King Theron had never passed the throne to Kaelen, not even when Kaelen orchestrated my death with false charges. Why had he moved so quickly now? Before I could dwell on it, as the crowd dispersed, Kaelen passed by me. I heard his words, clear as a bell: “Wretch. You will regret this, eventually.” That very night, I moved from Kaelen’s palace to Roric’s domain. The servants whispered, their voices carrying through the halls: “The War Lord is admirable in every way, but his judgment is clearly flawed.” “The Second Prince’s body isn’t even cold, and Aelia is already desperate to remarry. How could such a woman be a suitable match?” “Didn’t Queen Seraphina say Aelia is cursed to bring ruin upon her husband? I truly fear the War Lord will fall to her curse.” … I listened to the whispers outside the window, a faint, wry smile on my face. I turned to Roric, nudging him lightly, a self-deprecating laugh escaping me. “My Lord War Lord, your noble reputation is completely ruined because of me, isn’t it?” Roric frowned. “Don’t speak such nonsense. Aelia, give me half a day. You won’t hear them speak ill of you behind your back ever again.” I sighed. “In truth, I don’t care.” Compared to my previous life, where I mourned Kaelen as a living widow, endured endless humiliation, and was finally torn to pieces in public… Roric had provided me with the finest food, clothing, and comforts, no less than what the royal family enjoyed. I was already more than content. Before the lights were extinguished, I heard him murmur softly, “Let my reputation suffer. As long as I could marry you, nothing else matters.” I lay awake that night. Not long after, Lyra sent for me to come to the palace. She was soon to become the next Dragon Queen. Her maidservants brought her heavy, ornate robes. She eagerly held the Crown of the Dragon Queen to her head, turning to me. “Aelia, between Queen Seraphina and me, who looks better in this?” I remained silent. She continued, oblivious to my quietude, “Some people, you know, just have to accept their fate. What does it matter if your talents surpass mine? In the end, it’s I who will become the Dragon Queen.” She had always been like this, ever since we were children, always trying to outdo me. My gaze drifted to the cluttered tabletop, then fixated on the Water Arcane Crystal Kaelen had given her. A sudden spark of insight flickered in my mind. When Lyra was a child, during one of her training exercises, she had been dragged into the sea by a mer-fiend. Since then, she had detested Water Arcane Crystals. Orion, thoughtful and attentive, remembered this perfectly. After a long pause, my voice was strained as I asked, “Did you truly not realize that wasn’t Orion?” Lyra’s hand froze. In that instant, I knew the answer. In my previous life, no matter what, I had never once suspected Lyra. In my eyes, even if we had always been at odds, Kaelen was the sole perpetrator in this matter. But now, Lyra’s reaction told me she was complicit. Tears welled in my eyes, and I couldn’t help but demand, “Lyra, have you gone mad?” Slam! Lyra impatiently slammed a winged circlet onto the table, turning to me. “So what if I did?” I flinched. Lyra sneered. “Let me tell you the truth: as long as he is the Crown Prince, as long as I can become the Dragon Queen in the future, I don’t care who my husband is.” She glared at me, her eyes narrowed in warning. “As for you, stay a good widow. If you behave, once I become Dragon Queen, I will not treat you poorly. But if you reveal this, I will never let you go.” A chill seeped from my heart. Her words were identical to Kaelen’s from my previous life. But in the end, neither of them had spared me. Just then, voices sounded outside the door. Kaelen, King Theron, and Queen Seraphina entered, pushing aside the hanging tapestries. Seeing me, all of them paused, surprised. Kaelen frowned, his voice laced with guilt as he demanded, “Aelia, what are you doing here?” Queen Seraphina spoke with an acid tone, “Why aren’t you with your new husband? What are you doing running around the Dragon Palace?” Lyra squeezed out two crocodile tears, nestling against Kaelen. “Aelia didn’t mean it. She’s just suffering too much from losing her husband, so she…” Kaelen put an arm around her, speaking bitterly. “Aelia, none of us wished to see my brother fall in battle. Yet not only do you refuse to mourn him, insisting on remarriage, but you also take out your resentment on your sister. Get out!” I gazed steadily at Kaelen, then a slow smile touched my lips. “Alright.” Reckoning would come, but not yet. … The next day, Roric and I received an invitation to Kaelen’s coronation ceremony. He had successfully impersonated Orion and was now recognized by King Theron as the next heir. Although he still needed the approval of the Divine Order to complete the coronation and receive the royal inheritance, in everyone’s eyes—even Kaelen’s own—it was a foregone conclusion. Now, he stood proudly in shimmering silver armor, arm around the equally exquisitely adorned Lyra, greeting everyone with a triumphant smile. I watched him, unable to help but remember my past life. King Theron had once asked Kaelen if he harbored any resentment over Orion being named Crown Prince, as his twin brother. At the time, Kaelen had sworn, “Brother is upright and kind, his talents are brilliant, and his abilities far surpass mine. That he should become the Dragonkin Crown Prince, I, his brother, naturally accept with a willing heart.” His actions now were a stark contrast to his words then. I shook my head, a bitter smile on my face. Such a hypocritical man, and yet in my last life, I had been utterly blind. Soon, Kaelen and Lyra approached me. Kaelen glanced at Roric beside me, a flicker of jealousy in his eyes, and deliberately said, “Aelia, I know you still think of Kaelen, but you insisted on remarrying, so you should live your new life properly.” Before I could speak, Roric casually replied, “There’s no need for the Crown Prince to worry. Aelia treats me very well.” A warmth spread through my heart. I looked at their triumphant smiles and offered a warning. “Crown… Prince. Are you truly certain you can successfully receive the inheritance today?” Lyra immediately frowned. “What do you mean? Aelia, are you cursing us?!” Kaelen’s eyes burned with resentment as he stared at me. But with so many eyes watching, he merely restrained Lyra, saying gently, “Why bother with her? Let’s go.” I sighed, leaning into Roric’s embrace, saying nothing more. The coronation ceremony soon began. Kaelen ascended the steps, one by one, stopping before King Theron, his gaze greedily fixed on the royal crown that symbolized authority. The High Priest of the Dragonkin stood beside him, casting spells and chanting aloud, “We humbly beseech the Divine Order to bestow its inheritance!” Rumble! Thunder roiled incessantly in the sky. Just as the Phoenix Lineage’s leader must endure a fiery rebirth, every Dragon King must undergo a Celestial Trial. If deemed worthy by the Divine Order, the Dragon King and Queen would emerge unharmed. Kaelen held Lyra’s hand, standing at the center of the altar.

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  • The Missing Twin

    1 When I was ten, an elderly woman took my twin sister, Chloe, and never brought her back. My parents reported her missing and searched for eighteen years, but there was never a trace. Then, recently, a trend of psychic streamers took off. Mom started trying to get a live reading, scrambling to connect in every session. After half a month, she finally got through to a well-known streamer. She trembled as she posed her most desperate question: “Is my younger daughter still alive?” The streamer glanced at me, a look of surprise crossing her face. Then she nodded, responding, “She’s alive! But your older daughter is gone!” Our family of three went utterly pale in an instant! Under my parents’ stunned gaze, I quickly disconnected the call. I laughed, trying to smooth things over. “These streamers, desperate for attention, they’ll say anything!” Ten minutes later, a knock echoed at our front door. It was the police! The psychic’s words had cast an eerie silence over the house. Mom and Dad both looked at me, their expressions complicated. I forced a laugh. “Mom, you can’t trust what’s online. You should watch less of that stuff!” “You’re not actually buying into that psychic’s nonsense, are you?” Seeing nothing amiss with me, Dad was the first to react. “Skye’s right, honey. You need to stop watching those crazy livestreams.” I smiled, picked up Mom’s phone, and uninstalled the streaming app. Then I playfully tugged her arm. “Mom, I’m starving! I want your braised ribs!” She took her phone, tossed it aside. “That psychic is just spouting nonsense. I’ll go make them right now!” Knock, knock, knock. The knocking came from outside the door again. My heart, which had just settled, leaped into my throat. I composed myself and walked to open the door. Officer Davies walked in, his face alight with excitement. “The trafficking ring has been apprehended! You can finally ask about Chloe!” Clang! Dad shot up, his water glass crashing to the floor. He couldn’t stop trembling. “Really?” Seeing Officer Davies nod in confirmation, I quickly rushed into the kitchen and pulled Mom out. Our family hurried to the precinct. 2 When I was ten, my twin sister, Chloe, disappeared. According to the kids in the village, she was seen being led away by an old lady. My parents reported it to the police and searched for eighteen long years, but there was never a single clue. From then on, we’d distribute tens of thousands of missing person flyers every year. The police station became our second familiar home. Now, finally, there was hope of news about my sister. Of course, we rushed there. Though we went through similar emotional rollercoasters twice a year, it never dulled our determination to find her. Entering the interrogation room, I saw a woman with white hair sitting in a chair. Mom and Dad trembled slightly, staring intently at her. “Is she the one who took my sister?” I whispered, bewildered, to my parents beside me. “She looks like it!” Dad’s voice shook, his excitement almost unbearable. My heart, however, fluttered with unease. How could this be? This was impossible! “Eighteen years ago, did you go to Maple Creek and abduct a girl?” Officer Davies asked the woman. The woman lifted her eyes, scoffing. “I’ve taken many. Not just Maple Creek, but Bluebell Hollow, Whispering Pines, too!” Officer Davies slammed his hand on the table. “Watch your tone!” Mom’s eyes reddened, her emotions raw. “Did you take my daughter? Where did you take her?” The woman glanced at Mom, then pointed at me. “Girls her age, of course, were sold to remote communities to be wives.” “That period was quite profitable… a single girl could fetch tens of thousands…” She laughed openly, without a shred of shame. “Specifically, where were they sold?” Dad lunged at her, grabbing her clothes, demanding fiercely. Officer Davies quickly intervened, pulling him back. “Calm down.” After several rounds of questioning, the woman refused to speak further. Mom was so desperate she knelt directly, sobbing and pleading, “Please, tell me! I’ve been looking for her for eighteen years. I miss her so much! Dead or alive, I just want to know what happened!” Perhaps the desperate kneeling touched something in her. She finally spoke an address. 3 Mom and Dad rushed out, eager to leave immediately. Officer Davies quickly caught up, pulling them back. “It’s too dangerous to go alone. Wait until tomorrow; I’ll gather more officers, and we’ll go together!” My parents hesitated, and I quickly chimed in, “Mom, Dad, going with the police will definitely be safer!” Once they nodded, I started looking up the address online. It wasn’t too far from us, about a five-hour drive. When we reached the foot of the mountain, police officers were already waiting. One led us to the village chief, and then we followed him into a dilapidated small yard. My heart pounded in my throat. Could my sister possibly be here? I found it hard to believe. Just then, a disheveled woman emerged from the house, holding a child. “Who are you looking for?” She looked no older than twenty. The village chief stepped forward. “Miss Lin, these are police officers. They’re here to help you find your birth parents!” A man stepped out from behind her. “What parents? My little Lily’s parents are dead! Get out, get out, don’t stay here!” We were ushered out. The door had just closed when we heard the woman’s scream from inside. Officer Davies pushed the door open again, sharply reprimanding the man who was hitting her… “Domestic violence can also be charged!” Hearing this, the man kicked the woman viciously. “Tch, how unlucky!” The village chief stepped in, smiling apologetically, trying to mediate between the two sides. The man glared at us, his face ashen, but finally agreed to let us take the woman! This wasn’t my sister. Her age and appearance didn’t match. My mom, heartbroken by the woman’s suffering, and thinking of our still-missing Chloe, cried uncontrollably. Officer Davies made calls constantly on the way. Through the woman’s descriptions, he quickly helped her find her family. When we returned to the precinct, an elderly couple stood at the entrance! The woman saw them and burst into loud sobs! She knelt before them, calling them Mom and Dad! Watching their family reunion, my mom fainted from sorrow! Back home, fearing Mom might do something drastic, Dad quickly contacted Aunt Carol, asking her to come over and console her. When Aunt Carol walked in, I was sitting by Mom’s bedside, holding a bowl of porridge. “Chloe? You’re home?” Aunt Carol looked at me, her face beaming with joy. My parents’ expressions instantly stiffened, turning ashen. I took a deep breath, suppressing my own reaction. I quickly put down the bowl and went to take Aunt Carol’s arm. “Aunt Carol, look closely! It’s me, Skye! My sister hasn’t been found yet~” Then I sighed again. “If Chloe came back, Mom definitely wouldn’t be sick like this~” Hearing that, Mom’s face looked a bit strained. 4 “Skye?” Aunt Carol looked confused. “You bought me so many candied hawthorns when I was little, and told me not to tell anyone… Have you forgotten, Aunt Carol?” “Chloe and I do look very similar, but Chloe had autism; would she joke around like me?” I playfully teased Aunt Carol and Mom. “If Chloe hadn’t disappeared, standing in front of you now, I probably wouldn’t even be able to tell us apart!” My parents’ expressions shifted quickly. I quickly pulled Aunt Carol closer, trying to be affectionate. Aunt Carol smiled, sat down by the bed, and comforted Mom. “Honey, look how wonderful Skye is! You can just think of her as Chloe, if you want!” “You’ve searched for eighteen years; it’s time to let go!” I kept a close eye on my parents’ expressions, only relaxing when they seemed to return to normal. Mom’s eyes were red, and she cried, “I don’t know where Chloe is, or how much she’s suffered!” Aunt Carol quickly changed the subject. A week later, Mom finally started to emerge from the crushing disappointment of the last failed hope. Then, we received news from the police again! Officer Davies, on the phone, excitedly told me: “The girl we rescued this time looks incredibly like you! And her age matches too.” “Come over quickly and identify her!” The cup in my hand slipped, shattering with a crash. Hearing the news, I feigned excitement and shouted, “Mom, Dad, let’s go quickly! There’s a lot of hope this time~” But my parents weren’t as thrilled as I expected. Mom sighed. “After so many years, there’s been hope many times, but in the end, it was never her.” Dad took her hand, comforting her softly. “Don’t give up. Maybe this time it’s real?” I quickly packed our things and went to get the car. When we arrived at the precinct, I saw the girl sitting across from us. At first glance, she was indeed seventy percent similar to me! Mom looked at her, her lips moving, too emotional to speak. She walked quickly to the girl, her trembling hand suspended in mid-air! The girl noticed the unusual attention, looking up at Mom. “You, who are you?” I excitedly stepped forward and grabbed the girl’s hand, “Chloe! We finally found you!” Mom hugged her, crying loudly, utterly overwhelmed. Dad’s face went completely pale, terrified! But I knew this girl still wasn’t my sister. Officer Davies came out, and Mom finally released the girl she was hugging. “Her age, memories, and appearance all seem to match quite well!” He handed me the file. I took a glance, then handed it with a smile to Mom and Dad beside me. “She should be Chloe, right?” Officer Davies stopped Mom and Dad, who wanted to take the girl home immediately. “To be cautious, we still need to do a DNA test!” We, of course, cooperated. 5 Seven days later, the results came out. Everyone was incredulous. She wasn’t Chloe either! This was, however, within my expectations. Mom left disconsolately, while Dad seemed somewhat relieved. Back home, Mom remembered the psychic streamer. She immediately asked me to re-download the streaming app, wanting to ask again. I initially didn’t want to download it for her, but I was afraid she’d overthink things. So I did it for her anyway. Even if it just gave her a sliver of hope, it was better than searching aimlessly. After the download was successful, I logged into Mom’s account. I saw a series of private messages, two of which were from that psychic. “Your daughter’s matter? Your husband and your current daughter both know about it. They’ve been hiding it from you all this time!” “You need to be careful of your daughter and your husband!” That psychic really was spouting nonsense. I casually handed the phone to Mom. “Mom, look, this psychic is trying to fool you! You can’t trust her!” “These streamers will say anything to go viral!” Her face changed slightly, then she deleted the messages right in front of me. “I know! I won’t believe them.” Seeing her emotions stable, I felt relieved. The next day, as I was at work, a few police officers suddenly showed up at the door, looking for me. I was confusedly taken to the precinct. As soon as I arrived, I saw my mom sitting on a chair inside. “Mom, what’s going on?” Her face looked unnatural as she looked at me. She hemmed and hawed, unwilling to speak. “What exactly happened?” My tone grew a little sharper. My mom finally spoke, “That psychic said your dad knows your sister’s whereabouts!” My heart plummeted. It lodged in my throat. “And then?” I looked around, but didn’t see Dad. “Your dad is in the interrogation room!” She pointed to a door inside. “Mom, how could you listen to some online psychic and have the police bring Dad here!” Watching her gaze awkwardly at the floor, I was speechless. “Have you forgotten that psychic last year who claimed she could find Chloe, and ended up conning you out of eight thousand dollars?” “I just finished paying that money back last month!” Saying this, I wanted to explain to the officer beside me. But instead, I was met with a pair of handcuffs.

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  • My Son’s Gold-Digging Girlfriend

    I was diagnosed with cancer, and my son’s materialistic girlfriend immediately seized all our family’s assets. She then declared that it was all her wedding fund, and I, even if I died on the streets, shouldn’t dare to spend a single penny of “her” money. This ultimately caused me to miss the optimal treatment window, my condition worsening, leaving me with little time left. In a surge of rage and despair, I dragged her with me, leaping to our deaths. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in time, to the very first meeting with that materialistic girlfriend. And I could hear her thoughts. It was then I realized: the materialistic one wasn’t her at all. 1 “David said Auntie wouldn’t even glance at a bracelet under five thousand, but the one I bought was only eight hundred. Still, it was all the money I saved from working hard and living frugally for an entire semester. I gave it to her a few days ago, but why isn’t she wearing it? She really must look down on my gifts.” Emily’s voice, broken and hesitant, drifted into my ears. I opened my eyes to the familiar scene of my home, a jolt of recognition telling me I had been reborn. I had returned to the day my son, David Brown, first brought his girlfriend, Emily Taylor, to meet me. In my past life, this supposedly “gold-digging” girl, even before marrying David, had firmly controlled his entire salary. She’d used her supposed family custom of a two-million-dollar wedding fund as leverage, forcing us to sell everything we owned to gather the money for her. This left me with absolutely nothing when I was diagnosed with cancer. I tried to negotiate with her, asking her to return a portion of the money for my treatment, promising to repay her later. But she flatly refused. Worse, she told David, “All the money in your family is my wedding fund. Your mother’s old life isn’t worth saving. Even if she dies on the street, she won’t touch a single penny of my money.” Her unwavering refusal to contribute meant I missed my chance at treatment, my early-stage cancer dragging on to its terminal phase. Staring at the few days I had left, I was consumed by grief and rage. The next time she came to visit, I dragged her with me, leaping from the building. But I never imagined I’d be reborn. Lost in a daze, I heard her speaking in my mind. Something about a gold bracelet… what did it mean? I looked up, staring at Emily, who sat awkwardly before me. That voice, her internal monologue, resonated again: “Auntie is staring at me so seriously. Is she unhappy with me? I shouldn’t have listened to David. He said it would be embarrassing to give it to Auntie in person, that I should give it to him beforehand. If I’d known, I would have asked Mom and Dad for more money and bought a bigger one. Auntie definitely wouldn’t think I didn’t care about her now.” Emily’s lips didn’t move, yet the voice flowed continuously. Was it her thoughts? But when had she ever given me a gold bracelet? In my past life, from a month before our first meeting, she had been asserting her dominance. She’d claimed she wouldn’t eat fruit under fifty dollars a pound, or dine anywhere less than a five-star restaurant. Even the slippers she wore into our home had to be limited-edition, celebrity-endorsed brands. And when she left, she demanded a large cash gift. Yet, she herself never spent a single penny, and her gifts to me were always cheap supermarket giveaways. As I wondered, Emily glanced at David, then suddenly stood up, excusing herself to the restroom. Once she was gone, David anxiously pulled at my arm. “Mom, why are you just sitting there? Why aren’t you giving her a welcome gift? Emily looks upset. And your fruit, your food… it’s not what Emily asked for, is it? Aren’t you clearly trying to assert your dominance?” I froze. David had said the exact same thing to me in my past life. Back then, I’d immediately thought Emily was terribly materialistic and a bad girl, which fueled my strong prejudice against her later on. But judging by Emily’s thoughts just now, she didn’t seem to have that intention at all. 2 I eyed David suspiciously, a seed of doubt sprouting about him too. In my previous life, this boy had been so weak, his world revolving solely around his girlfriend. When I desperately needed money and considered suing for it, he stopped me repeatedly, pleading with me not to make things ugly, saying they still had to live together and he could handle it. But when I lay on my sickbed, my condition worsening, his “solution” never materialized. In this life, I couldn’t trust this ungrateful wolf entirely. My face hardened, and I retorted, “What do you mean, ‘asserting dominance’? Just because I didn’t treat her like royalty, that’s asserting dominance? I prepared gifts and a welcome envelope, and she gave me a free toothbrush from the supermarket. Looks like she doesn’t think much of our family either.” I stared him down. “Let me tell you now: even if you marry her, I won’t acknowledge it.” David hadn’t expected my sudden outburst. He flinched, quickly pulling me closer and whispering, “Mom, I told you, Emily’s family isn’t well-off. She’s been through a lot. Now, we should let her enjoy life. Just humor her, please don’t say those things. What if she hears you?” The words had barely left his mouth when Emily returned. She looked at the heavy atmosphere between David and me, startled. Her inner voice echoed again: “Didn’t I just give David a look to tell him to soothe Auntie? How did things get even worse?” Watching her awkwardly sit down, my suspicion grew. I cleared my throat and spoke. “Emily, dear, you’re still a student. I don’t need you to buy me anything. Just coming to visit makes me very happy.” Emily’s expression was puzzled. Her inner voice resonated: “What does she mean, ‘didn’t buy a gift’? Didn’t I tell David to give her the gold bracelet? Even if she looks down on it, she can’t say I didn’t buy anything, can she?” I subtly glanced at David, then pulled out a few toothbrushes from under the coffee table, placing them on top. “David told me you always think of Auntie, and specifically got these free samples from the supermarket for me.” Emily jumped, quickly turning to David. “When did I give Auntie toothbrushes? What about the gold bracelet? Didn’t you give it to Auntie?” 3 David’s face stiffened, but he quickly recovered his composure. He calmly pulled a gold bracelet from his bag, grinning sheepishly. “Oh, I forgot to give it to her. It’s better this way, you can personally give it to my mom, it’s more formal.” Emily breathed a sigh of relief. As she busied herself putting the bracelet on my wrist, her inner voice chimed in again: “David is so careless, he forgot something like this. Good thing Auntie asked, otherwise what would she have thought of me?” I frowned. Emily’s actions didn’t match my past life’s memory either. Could it be that in my past life, she had also prepared a gold bracelet, but because David forgot, and I, not wanting to ask for a gift on our first meeting, never brought it up, it led to a misunderstanding? And why didn’t David ever give me the gold bracelet later? There must be more to this. And then, she held onto our family’s assets, which led to my tragic death. I absolutely had to investigate this. Once the bracelet was on, Emily held my hand, smiling. “Auntie, gold looks so beautiful on you. It really suits your elegance.” I looked down at the bracelet, a strange emotion stirring within me. In my previous life, our first meeting had been so disastrous that our impressions of each other were terrible, leading to very little interaction afterward. I never knew she could say such pleasant things. Emily then turned to David, chiding him gently. “When are you going to start taking my things seriously? Last time, I bought a set of skincare products for Auntie and asked you to deliver them. You completely forgot, and ended up using them yourself. Now you even forget something as important as this?” I remembered the skincare products very clearly. A month ago, I accidentally appeared in a video call between Emily and David. At the time, I was using a face cream. Emily saw the brand of my cream and chatted with me about it. But as soon as David hung up, he told me Emily was furious. Because the brand of face cream I used was even more expensive than hers. David had said, “Emily thinks you’re too old to be using such expensive brands. You should save that money for your future grandchild. Just use basic drugstore cream, that’s fine for you.” At the time, I was so enraged I felt my lungs would burst. I immediately told David that this girlfriend wouldn’t do. Now, it seemed, many things were not as I had understood them. David cast a guilty glance at me, then pulled Emily into a hug, still grinning. “I know I messed up, darling. Next time, I’ll put you and Mom at the top of my priority list.” My heart sank deeper and deeper. Everything I had once believed Emily had done to me, she seemed completely unaware of. And what about seizing all our family’s assets? Could that also have nothing to do with her? Filled with questions, I finished the meal. David left to take Emily back to university. I immediately scheduled a full physical examination at the clinic. The doctor, pointing at the lab report, told me they had found a tiny lesion in my stomach. A biopsy confirmed it was gastric cancer. Fortunately, I had caught it very early; the cure rate was extremely high. They just needed to surgically remove the affected tissue and scheduled my operation. I breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, I had made it in time in this life. On the way home, my steps felt lighter than air. When I arrived, David was already back, slouched on the sofa, head drooping, looking utterly dejected. The moment he saw me, he put on a mournful face. “Mom, Emily said she wants a two-million-dollar wedding fund. What are we going to do?” 4 David wiped away a tear. “Emily said that in her family, a multi-million-dollar wedding fund is absolutely essential. Two million is already the bare minimum. If I can’t come up with it, she’ll break up with me.” He grabbed my hand, his words earnest. “Mom, I really love her and want to marry her. Please help me figure something out. When I make a lot of money in the future, I’ll take good care of you. Forget two million, I’ll give you even more!” I looked at him silently. “First, explain what happened with the skincare products Emily mentioned.” David’s eyes darted nervously. “You hadn’t even finished your own skincare products yet, so I figured you wouldn’t need Emily’s right away. And you used to always give me your extras, didn’t you? So, this time I took the liberty of using them myself. I just forgot to tell you, that’s all.” David looked at me, annoyed. “Why are you so petty with your own son?” “Then why did you tell me she thought I only deserved to use basic, cheap cream?” David began to throw a tantrum. “That was just me misunderstanding her meaning! I’ll be more careful in the future. Just let it go this once. Right now, the urgent matter is Emily’s two-million-dollar wedding fund. Mom, I’m your only son, you have to help me figure this out.” I wasn’t satisfied with David’s explanation. He had been sharp as a tack since he was little. How could he possibly misunderstand something so simple? Was he secretly playing some trick behind my back? And did Emily know? So, I played along with his words. “How about you invite Emily over for dinner again soon? I want to get a better sense of her character. If she passes my test, forget two million, I’ll even sell everything we own to get you three million for her wedding fund.” David’s eyes lit up, but then he worriedly cautioned me. “When Emily comes, you absolutely cannot mention the wedding fund. She’s already unhappy, and I’m afraid she’ll get even angrier and the wedding will be off.” I gave him a faint glance. It was probably less about him not wanting Emily to worry, and more about him being afraid of me questioning Emily. David acted quickly. The very next day, he brought Emily back. But her expression didn’t look good. She was even a little aloof in her interactions with me.

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  • Where Goodbyes Bloom

    I was Princess Seraphina, the most revered royal in all of Eldoria. They whispered that whoever won the Princess’s hand would claim the throne. Yet, three years ago, I was abducted and subjected to unspeakable horrors, left to be defiled in the shadowed alleyways of the city’s underbelly. Stripped of my honor, I became a pariah, whispered about by all. When everyone shunned me, only Lord Arthur, a brilliant scholar who had risen from humble beginnings, bravely sought my hand in marriage. For three years, our union bloomed with harmony. He ascended to become the unchallenged King of Eldoria. But then, one day, he brought a woman from outside the palace walls. From that moment on, his nights were spent in her chambers. He adored her, indulged her every whim, allowing her to tear apart the winter roses in my garden—our special token of affection—and even letting her deliberately cause the death of our unborn child. When my hope in him finally withered, and I entrusted my shattered heart to another, he knelt before me, begging me to return, vowing he wished to spend an eternity by my side. 1 It was the Midwinter Festival of Lights, and Sunstone Palace blazed with vibrant candlelight, alive with joyous revelry. Only my chambers remained eerily silent, cloaked in a chilling sorrow. In Eldoria, there was a cherished tradition during the Midwinter Festival: lovers would release wish lanterns together, seeking a lifetime of togetherness, a bond that would last until their hair turned white. Yet, for two years, I had pleaded with Arthur, and each year he had offered excuses, claiming affairs of state. I never knew if these were genuine duties, or simply his reluctance to share a future with me. I forced a bitter laugh, picking at a cold, greasy dish. The food tasted like ash in my mouth, leaving only a bitter aftertaste. Tears welled in my eyes, large drops falling relentlessly, refusing to be stopped. Suddenly, a pair of small, soft hands gently cupped my face, tenderly wiping away my tears. The words spilled from his lips, still forming clumsily, yet he tried his best to comfort me. “Mama… why cry? Is it… because Papa didn’t… come to be with Mama?” “Don’t cry… Lionel’s here, don’t cry.” Perhaps it was, or perhaps it wasn’t. Arthur had not visited my royal chambers since his coronation. In the beginning, I used to gaze at the threshold daily, yearning for his arrival. When he didn’t come, I would always feel a profound sadness, secretly wiping away my tears. But as the days turned into weeks, and disappointment accumulated, I suppose such things no longer caused me grief. Yet, looking at Lionel’s innocent face, I didn’t know how to answer. I simply found an excuse to deflect his innocent question. “Sweet Lionel, Mama isn’t sad. Mama is just thinking how wonderful it would be if Mama’s own Papa and Mama were still here.” At least, then, my chambers wouldn’t be so desolate during the holidays. 2 Forcing a smile, I looked at Lionel and asked if he wanted to go outside with Mama and release some wish lanterns. If I couldn’t secure a lifetime with Arthur, then I would at least pray for Lionel to live a long, safe life, free from harm. He laughed and agreed, saying he also wanted a large candied apple on a stick from outside. He said it was the first gift Papa had ever given him, and it was so delicious. I tightened the smile on my lips, stroking Lionel’s head. It was just a trifle Arthur had casually tossed to Lionel, yet my son had cherished it as a precious treasure, remembering it to this day. Sometimes I couldn’t comprehend it: how could Arthur be so distant, so seemingly indifferent to Lionel? Lost in thought, my hand was suddenly tugged by Lionel. He shouted “Papa!” loudly, but his voice was swallowed by the bustling crowd’s joyous clamor. Following Lionel’s gaze, I looked up. With just one glance, I was rooted to the spot, unable to move a single step. On the Midwinter Festival of Lights, by the banks of the River Eldrin, Arthur held a stunning beauty in his arms, kneeling to release a wish lantern. For a moment, I felt a dizzying disorientation. So, Arthur wasn’t ignorant of Eldoria’s customs; he had always been intimately familiar with them. It was simply that the person he wished to spend a lifetime with was not me. Lionel was still pointing and calling out for his Papa. I reached out and covered his eyes, muttering repeatedly, He’s mistaken, he’s mistaken, that’s not Papa. But my heart felt as if it were being torn apart. My thickest fur-lined cloak couldn’t ward off the biting cold; in that instant, I felt chilled to the bone. The past three years of harmonious companionship replayed in my mind, my brain stalled. I even began to question if all that affection had merely been a performance by Arthur. Tears fell endlessly, melting the snow on the ground, and carving deep, gaping holes in my heart. That Midwinter Festival, I couldn’t make my wish, nor could I pray for Lionel to live a long, safe life. As he sat in the carriage, licking his candied apple, he asked if that had truly been Papa. I merely gave a bitter smile, my face growing rigid, my voice edged with a sob I didn’t even notice. “No… not Papa. Your Papa is burdened by affairs of state… he has no time to come out.” Burdened by affairs of state? Even I didn’t believe those words, a hint of guilt in my voice, yet I instinctively found excuses for him. Back in my royal chambers, the food on the table was long cold. All of it was Arthur’s favorite dishes, but he hadn’t come. His favorite dishes, naturally, remained untouched. I looked at the congealed grease on the food and felt a wave of nausea. From ancient times, kings were often described as passionate, dashing, with a court filled with beauties. Yet, Arthur had once held my hand and sworn that he would devote himself to me alone, never to stray. Alas, the dreams of youth, once vibrant, now felt like faded tapestries. 3 I extinguished the candles. In the pitch-black chambers, I sat with my eyes wide open, staring until they ached. I finally understood what my father, King Theron, had once told me: he said that in this world, I could command all, turn clouds into rain, but only matters of the heart remained truly untamed. In the empty room, only my laughter echoed, but it was tinged with a profound loneliness. After much restraint, I could no longer hold back. I rose, put on the fur-lined cloak Arthur had given me, and went to his royal chambers. The palace grounds were deserted. As I walked, the moonlight painted long, stark shadows before me, cold and desolate. It took a long while to reach the entrance of Arthur’s royal chambers. Grand red banners with dragon emblems lit the entire wing, and the sounds of joyous laughter and merriment filled the air. From a distance, I heard a woman’s delicate laughter. Just as I was about to push the door open, a royal steward at the entrance barred my way. His face was timid, his lips trembling as he whispered something. I couldn’t hear clearly, only vaguely understanding that Arthur had forbidden my entry. Suddenly, a wave of bitter amusement washed over me. The queen, wedded with ten miles of red silk, publicly acknowledged, couldn’t even step into her husband’s chambers? A rebellious fire surged within me. I pulled the jeweled comb from my hair, letting it fall to the ground with a soft clink, then curled my lips into a chilling smile and strode inside. Within the chambers, Arthur was embracing the woman on a plush couch, a picture of marital bliss. But the moment he saw me, the smile in Arthur’s eyes imperceptibly faded. He spoke, a hint of rebuke in his voice. “Why are you here? I thought I told you to remain outside…” His tone of reproach was painfully obvious; even a fool could hear it. He was blaming me, blaming me for ruining his mood, for interrupting his pleasure. I sat on the chaise lounge, picking up a teacup, the bracelets on my wrist jingling softly. I stared directly into his eyes, speaking each word distinctly. “And if I hadn’t come? If I hadn’t, I might never have known you’ve adopted a new little songbird in the palace.” My words were laced with a smile, though they were directed at him, my eyes remained fixed on the woman in his embrace. I watched her frown, then hide deeper in Arthur’s arms. Her timid, delicate demeanor, so common, utterly displeased me. I merely lowered my gaze, observing her grand red gown. “Not everyone in the palace is permitted to wear red. You should find something else to wear. A gown of scarlet is too ostentatious, and it hardly suits your head, unadorned by jewels.” Before I could even speak more harshly, her eyes filled with tears, on the verge of falling, making her appear pitiful. When she spoke to Arthur, her voice was choked with a heavy sob. “My King, I didn’t know… I didn’t know I couldn’t wear red… Is she despising my humble attire?” “I knew it, a lonely orphan like me, I shouldn’t have come here…” Interesting. I narrowed my eyes, watching her performance. But to my surprise, Arthur fell for it completely. He held her close, soothing her, and then frowned at me. “Seraphina… Isolde has always been fond of red. What harm is there in letting her wear it? Moreover, she was my loyal companion before my rise to power. By lineage, she was the first to claim my hand.” 4 The smile on my face suddenly froze, my mind as sluggish as a broken clock. My voice, when it emerged, was rusty as I savored those words, repeating them over and over. “Isolde… Isolde.” “Arthur, you tricked me… You deceived me so cruelly.” My eyes were red-rimmed, and the moment the tears began to fall, I turned away, leaving Arthur only my back. Stepping outside, the biting cold wind was like a flaying blade, slicing at my face again and again. I felt no pain, only a heavy suffocating sensation in my chest, and my vision blurred with unshed tears. When Lionel was born, Arthur only came to see him once, and casually gave him his name. I still remembered Arthur saying that day, “To truly be a great King, one must have a heart as vast as the oceans, encompassing all the people.” I suddenly wanted to ask him: that day, when he saw Lionel, still an infant in swaddling clothes, did he truly intend to entrust this kingdom to him? Or was there a selfish motive, using our child to reminisce about his commoner companion? Commoner companion. Commoner companion. It turned out that for three years, I had been the thief. I had stolen the identity of Arthur’s true love. All those vows of “a lifetime of togetherness,” they were all lies, all falsehoods… I stumbled back to my royal chambers. Lionel was sleeping soundly on the couch, his chubby face still muttering “Mama.” I suddenly regretted bringing him into this world. His father did not love me, nor did he love him. The child of Princess Seraphina should not suffer such a fate. Large tears dripped, soaking the bed, and carving scar after scar in my heart. I thought to myself that the woman in Arthur’s arms was not a docile soul; there would surely be endless troubles ahead. If Arthur still held even a fraction of affection for me, my situation in the palace might be tolerable. But if that affection was gone, then it would be a bitter dream, ending in a desolate and impoverished existence. Just as I feared, as dawn barely broke, Arthur’s royal decree arrived at my chambers. He had broken his vows, and forgotten the promises made before my father’s throne. He declared that a King’s vow was worth its weight in gold, and abandoning his faithful companion after achieving power would invite ridicule from the world. He urged me to be reasonable, not to force him into an impossible position. He also claimed he was thinking of me: I would retain the Queen’s dignity, while Isolde, though lesser in rank, would reside in the West Wing. In the palace, status could be divided into noble and humble, but Arthur, in love, the unloved one is always the humble one. The humble, and the heartbroken. Alas, Arthur’s words were too perfectly phrased, leaving me no room to rage or protest. I could only watch, humiliated, as Isolde appeared with jeweled combs in her hair and a grand red gown. 5 The West Wing blazed with lights, vibrant and bustling. My ladies-in-waiting whispered that Arthur, out of pity for Isolde, was granting her a grand and rightful wedding, a public display of her importance. Amidst the sounds of music and laughter, tears welled in my eyes. I could only stare blankly at the ceiling, at the broken nest of doves in the rafters. I suddenly remembered a time, when I was pregnant with Lionel, Arthur had come to my chambers to see me, holding my hand, telling me the doves outside had little fledglings, insisting that I come see them. That day, beneath the dove’s nest, those words, out of place yet poignant, came to mind. “Like the doves upon the rafters, may we ever meet again.” Alas, alas, the dove’s nest was broken, the doves would not return, and Arthur’s love had soured, tasting bitter. As tears fell, Lionel tugged at my gown, smiling as he stood on tiptoe, offering me something. I knelt to see, and in his hand was a piece of sweet caramel. “Mama, eat. Candy is sweet. If you eat it, you won’t cry anymore.” I put the candy in my mouth, forcing a smile as I asked him where he got it. He pointed towards the West Wing, laughing, saying it was from the chambers with the grand red banners. So… so it was Arthur’s wedding candy. No wonder it tasted so bitter. Lionel was in my arms, motionless, his small hand stroking my back, continuously telling me not to cry. He was still too young to understand why I wept, or why the candles in the West Wing burned all night. Isolde, however, was clearly adept at demonstrating her power. The next day, she arrived early at my chambers. Her grand red gown only emphasized her pale complexion, making her appear delicate. But her neck was brazenly exposed, displaying the marks of Arthur’s affection. They were vulgar, commoner’s marks, unworthy of my gaze, and I had no patience for them. I simply waited for her to complete her bow and then discreetly leave. But she was utterly tactless. The moment she entered, she sat on my chaise lounge. Her voice was soft, feigning timidity, but I could hear the boastful undertone. “Sister, last night was quite exhausting. His Majesty said I should rest in my chambers, but I thought it improper not to visit you first…” I ignored her, merely resting my hand on my forehead, letting her ramble. But when she mentioned something specific, my expression subtly changed. She said Arthur had bestowed upon her a royal title: “The Winter Rose.” It meant her fragrance bloomed purest in the bitter cold, implying she had endured years of hardship to achieve this. He bestowed upon her the title of Winter Rose, as if it were a supreme honor. She spoke with a saccharine smile, secretly glancing at my expression. But I found it utterly tiresome. I didn’t look at her, only remembered that winter many years ago, in the plum garden, when Arthur and I had pledged our love. He had said that the most beautiful winter roses in the world bloomed only for me. Now, as I looked up, gazing through the half-open window at the winter roses in my garden, I felt only bitter irony. Winter roses bravely defied the cold, blooming joyfully even in the harshest winter. But love was not so resilient. Too much neglect, and it would simply wither, losing all strength to fight. I waved my hand, cutting off her endless chatter, and casually bestowed upon her a few trifles, dismissing her. She seemed somewhat reluctant but couldn’t openly defy me, so she merely closed her mouth sheepishly and left. My lady-in-waiting, Lady Eleanor, who had grown up with me, spoke up, remarking on Isolde’s vulgar, shameless display, flaunting her conquests before me. I knew it all too well, but I felt it unnecessary to stoop to her level. The court was a heartless place; once the novelty wore off, she would likely become the next me. I no longer yearned for Arthur to love me as he once had. I only prayed for my Lionel to be safe, happy, and live a long, healthy life. That was all I asked for.

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  • The Poverty Charade

    1 For seven years, my wife Betty and I lived “poor.” At night, I’d sneak out with our son Leo to collect cans. He always gathered more, then asked hopefully: “Daddy, do we have enough for Mommy to visit the amusement park?” Betty always refused, claiming poverty. But tonight, counting our savings, I finally dragged Leo to the park—only to see Betty on the carousel, laughing with her childhood sweetheart David and his son. “Sorry, sir,” the attendant said. “That lady rented out the entire park.” The cost? Seven figures. My throat burned. “Daddy,” Leo whispered, “is Mommy rich?” Then it hit me: Betty was once a millionaire. After David left, she’d “gone bankrupt” and married me—her loyal shadow. For seven years, her poverty had been an act. Looking at Leo’s faded, shrunken clothes, a wave of sickening realization washed over me, every vein in my body tingling with cold. My heart ached so intensely that my mouth hung open, but no words would come. Leo must have sensed my profound sadness. He forced a brave, dismissive smile. “Maybe Mommy’s busy, Daddy. Let’s just go home for now. Don’t… don’t be sad.” His voice grew softer and softer, almost disappearing by the end. My heart skipped a beat. I cradled his small face in my hands. It was already streaked with tears. I pulled him tightly into my arms, turning away almost desperately. But Leo kept looking back, a full three times, until the image of that “family of three” at the amusement park vanished from sight. Back home, I thought for a long time. Eventually, I consulted a divorce attorney. The old wooden door groaned loudly as Betty returned. I listened quietly from the bedroom. Leo, like a small, eager puppy, ran to greet his mother. Betty still didn’t hug him. Leo didn’t react much; when disappointment becomes routine, you grow accustomed to it. He eagerly held up a picture, asking Betty, “Mommy, can I have this toy?” Betty’s voice was dismissive. “We’ll see.” Usually, if she said that, Leo would immediately back down. But today, he was unusually stubborn, as if trying to prove something. His childish voice carried a desperate defiance. “Why wait?” Why wait? You clearly have money to take other children to play. Why can’t you take me? Am I not your child? But the heartbreaking truth was, even though his voice trembled with sadness, Leo never voiced those unspoken questions. Betty finally agreed. When I finally came to, Leo and I were locked in a hug. Leo chirped excitedly in my ear. “Mommy is so good to me! She promised! She promised!” I shared his joy, too thrilled to sleep that night. But he waited one day, two days, a week. The toy never appeared. Finally, on yet another night when Betty returned empty-handed, he broke down completely. He ran back to his bedroom, crying silently. Betty seemed oblivious. She handed me a packet of herbs. “Brew these according to the recipe. I’ll take it with me tomorrow.” I immediately recognized it: it was a tonic for men. The tightly stretched string in my mind suddenly snapped. By the time I regained my senses, the herbs in my hand had already struck her. 2 Betty froze for a long moment, looking at me with incredulity, as if I were insane. “Arthur Sterling, are you alright?” Though she was the one struck, I felt on the verge of tears. “Where’s Leo’s gift?” A flicker of annoyance crossed Betty’s face. She turned, took off her jacket, and walked towards the bedroom. “What’s the rush? I’ll buy it.” Leo and I had heard those words countless times over the past few years. Wait a little longer. What’s the rush? Don’t pressure me. But I had had enough. I pushed open Leo’s bedroom door, pulled back his blanket, and looked into his tear-filled eyes. “Leo, if Daddy and Mommy get a divorce, who do you want to live with?” Leo froze. The word “divorce” was utterly foreign to him. But he quickly understood, his voice unconsciously tinged with fear. “Daddy, don’t leave me.” My foolish child. How could Daddy ever leave you? I pulled his small body into my arms, my voice raw. “If you stay with Mommy, perhaps things will be very good for you in the future.” Leo’s gaze fell on the picture of the toy. His voice was soft. “Can we wait a little longer, Daddy? Let’s wait… one more week.” I understood. He still hoped his mother would keep her promise, just once. So, I agreed. The next day, after dropping Leo off at school, I went to work as usual. It was a diner, and the food was good, but because I was only part-time, my wages were low. I used to be a top student. My first job after university paid handsomely. But after Betty gave birth, she had no desire to care for the baby. So, I willingly took a four-year hiatus, dedicating myself to raising Leo. When I re-entered the workforce, I found that the world had changed much faster than I could have imagined. And since I was an orphan, with no family to support me, my life had ended up this way. “Arthur Sterling, Table Six has guests. Go tend to them.” My thoughts snapped back from my memories. I acknowledged the order and walked over. But the next second, I met Betty’s gaze across the table. Betty’s face fell for a moment, because beside her sat David Hayes, her childhood sweetheart. He was handsome, refined, exuding the comfortable air of a mature family man. In contrast, I, the same age as him, looked gloomy, exhausted, with perpetual dark circles under my eyes. Yet, I felt no sadness. On the contrary, I was strangely agitated. Because beside her sat the toy that Leo had been yearning for. David looked at the menu, ordering several dishes. I noted each one. As I was about to turn, Betty suddenly called out to me. She looked at David, her voice tinged with helplessness. “You have a cold, don’t you? You can’t eat spicy food.” David smiled wryly. He looked at me. “Doesn’t she meddle a lot? She’s been like this since we were kids.” His words were a complaint, but the tenderness in them was undeniable. My hand tightened around the menu, my face stinging as if slapped. David noticed the change in my expression and asked with concern, like a caring family member. But I turned away in a panic, because I saw the pity in his eyes. He knew who I was! My feet felt unsteady. Distracted, I walked straight into a colleague carrying a tray of food. The next second, the entire plate of food spilled all over me. Before I could react, the boss exploded. “Arthur Sterling, if it weren’t for the child you have to feed, I’d have fired your useless ass long ago!” Betty instantly stood up, frowning, and began walking towards me. But the next second, David suddenly clutched his stomach and cried out. Betty immediately stopped, anxiously helped David up, and began walking out. David clung intimately to her arm, looking over her shoulder to meet my gaze, his expression calm. In this silent battle, I had lost completely. My colleagues knew the boss held a grudge against me for resisting her advances, and she was seizing this opportunity to make an example of me. So, they all looked at me with sympathy. But I no longer cared about anything. After a dizzying afternoon of work, I returned home, covered in stains. 3 Leo’s eyes immediately welled up with tears when he saw me. But I didn’t care about comforting him. Instead, I excitedly scooped him into my arms. I whispered into his ear, “Mommy bought you a present! I saw it!” But there was no joy on Leo’s face. Instead, he kept asking about my injuries. “Daddy, did someone bully you? Does it hurt?” I forced a foolish smile, suppressing the bitterness in my heart. I pretended to be embarrassed. “Daddy was just clumsy himself, I bumped into someone.” Leo’s sad little face finally softened. He opened his mouth, as if to say something more, when the doorknob suddenly rattled. Betty was back. I immediately grew excited. Leo was clearly anticipating her too, his small, tightly clasped hands slightly sweaty. But the next second, Leo and I froze simultaneously. Betty returned empty-handed. My heart plummeted from heaven to hell. I quickly glanced at Leo. The disappointment on his face was fleeting, but he didn’t break down like last time. Yet, I couldn’t stop my eyes from welling up, because it meant he had already lost all expectation of his mother. I suppressed my anger. As I opened my mouth to speak, Betty abruptly pulled me into the bedroom. “Are you alright today? Your shoulder looked like it got hit.” She rummaged through the medicine cabinet, then reached out to unbutton my shirt. I roughly slapped her hand away. “Where’s the toy?” I demanded. Betty froze. “What toy?” Anger surged within me, my voice rising uncontrollably. “The remote-control car you bought for Leo! I saw you buy it today!” Betty’s eyes darted away. She bit her lip, her voice dropping. “I accidentally lost it. I’ll buy him another one tomorrow.” Tomorrow, again. I desperately suppressed the swirling rage and pushed past her, heading into the bathroom. Conscious of saving on the water bill, I showered quickly in a few minutes, then dried myself. My phone suddenly vibrated. A new number had sent me a contact request. I stared at it for two seconds. Something clicked in my mind, and I accepted. It was David Hayes. After adding me, he remained silent. I felt a premonition and clicked into his social media. He had shared glimpses of his day. “Thank you to the most beautiful sister in the world. Leo and I love the gifts.” Beneath the caption were several photos: the remote-control car Leo had longed for, and a watch of a brand I didn’t recognize. My mind went blank for a few seconds. I stared blankly up at the simple rack in the bathroom. On it sat a razor bought from the discount bin, a bar of soap worn to fragments, and Leo’s chipped, rough toys. Grief washed over me like a tidal wave. I could no longer support my heavy body and slid down the wall, crying. I don’t know how long passed. Betty, as if sensing my despair, walked to the door and knocked. “Arthur, why aren’t you coming out?” When I didn’t answer, she simply pushed the door open. I walked out, my face calm, passing through her. Betty immediately noticed my swollen eyes. She froze, then sighed in annoyance. “I’ll buy it tomorrow! It’s just a toy!” No, it wasn’t just a toy anymore, but I said nothing. At the dinner table, the atmosphere was eerily quiet. Betty glanced at me, then at Leo, who remained silent. She paused, then picked up a piece of food and placed it on Leo’s plate. Leo’s eyes instantly brightened, his face showing a bewildered joy. But my heart ached with such bitterness I wanted to weep. A child unloved, even the smallest gesture of kindness felt like a grand blessing. This simple act gave Leo courage. He cautiously glanced at Betty, then slowly began to speak. “Mommy, tomorrow is Mother’s Day. The teacher is holding a competition. Kids bring handmade crafts to enter, and daddies vote. Can you come?” Betty paused. Leo’s overly cautious expression made her recall the confident, cheerful look on David’s son’s face.

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  • The Memory Thief: Kill to Remember

    I had a secret. A chilling, impossible secret. After I killed someone, I could steal their memories from the past three years. Before my college entrance exams, I killed my academic prodigy boyfriend. And I got into a good university. 1 When did I first discover this… ability? It was when I was nine. My parents got divorced, and custody was awarded to my mother. I loved Mom, but deep down, I loved Dad more. I often snuck off to see him, to play. But one day, when I went to find him, I walked in on him kissing a woman I didn’t know. My parents had always kept me shielded from such things; it was the first time I’d seen a man and a woman kiss. The woman’s lips were painted a vivid, predatory crimson, so red they looked ready to devour. A surge of anger coiled in my gut. Even at that tender age, I understood. It was my father who had done something wrong, which was why they’d divorced. My father was a bad man. Furious, I stormed into his car and scattered a handful of marbles. They’d surely jab his backside, and maybe make that woman trip and fall. Instead, the marbles jammed the brake pads, causing the brakes to fail. The woman ended up in a coma, and my father died instantly at the scene. The police reviewed the surveillance footage and found I’d put marbles in the car. But a nine-year-old child, they reasoned, knew nothing and bore no criminal responsibility. Moreover, I was openly distraught, weeping uncontrollably over the loss of my father. No one blamed me. Everyone just pitied me. Yet, even as I wept, a torrent of new memories flooded my mind. Within those memories, I saw the woman’s face. So my father had been… “bad” long before that. I saw my mother and father arguing, saw my father secretly taking money from the household. I saw the woman and my father entwined, their repulsive entanglement nauseating me. I threw up. My mother and the police assumed I was simply overwhelmed by grief, my body giving out. Only I knew the truth: it was pure disgust. A child, still so small, I had witnessed two beasts entwined. 2 Unexpectedly, my sorrow vanished rather quickly. What lingered, however, was the disgust. And simultaneously, I realized something unique about myself. When I was little, I dared not speak of it; as I grew, I simply chose not to. It wasn’t until I was much older that I truly grasped the full implications of this ability. In middle school, Chloe, the girl from next door, and I were in the same class and incredibly close. We walked to and from school together, inseparable, even going to the restroom in tandem. Our teachers jokingly called us conjoined twins. Chloe wasn’t exactly kind, but she was beautiful, far prettier than me. Sometimes I’d overhear whispers: “There’s the princess and her little sidekick.” I didn’t really care, but Chloe always seemed to bask in it. I figured that was one of the reasons we were such good friends. No one likes to be outshone, especially by someone they’re close to. Chloe enjoyed feeling superior to me, and in a way, that proved she genuinely considered me a close friend. I was incredibly good to Chloe, so much so that she became quite dependent on me. Her grades were always better than mine, except for Math. So I always did her Math homework for her, meticulously neat. During regular quizzes, I, being the Math class monitor, would help Ms. Davis grade papers in the office. And whenever I did, I’d secretly correct a few of Chloe’s mistakes, bumping up her score. Until one day, Ms. Davis found out. Ms. Davis didn’t scold me for altering the grades; instead, she laid into Chloe. Ms. Davis had always disliked Chloe’s pretty, fashion-conscious demeanor, and her poor Math grades only fueled that disdain. “All day long, your mind is on anything but your studies, always plotting these sneaky little tricks!” she snapped. “Girls like you will never amount to anything more than a pretty face.” Chloe’s eyes immediately welled up. With a loud thump, she shoved her desk aside and bolted out of the classroom. Ms. Davis initially scoffed, but when Chloe didn’t return, a flicker of worry crossed her face, fearing something might have happened. After teaching for a bit, she couldn’t contain herself and asked me to go check on Chloe. I knew exactly where Chloe would be. She’d be in the janitor’s closet next to the third-floor staff lounge. Whenever Chloe was upset, she’d retreat into that tiny space. I quietly pushed open the closet door, squeezed inside, and huddled beside Chloe. Chloe didn’t look at me, and I didn’t look at her. I knew her. She didn’t want me to see her looking so vulnerable. After a while, Chloe spoke. “I hate Ms. Davis,” she mumbled. “Neither do I,” I said, feeling a perverse satisfaction. My childish solidarity made her crack a small smile. “Let’s go back,” she said. “Okay.” Chloe and my friendship grew even stronger. But sometimes, you just had to admit it: academic ability truly was a matter of innate talent. I tried, I really did, but when it came to studies, I simply had no knack for it. Chloe and I spent every day together, dedicating almost the same amount of time to studying. Yet Chloe’s grades kept improving, steadily rising in every subject, even her Math was quickly catching up to mine. Sometimes she’d offer to tutor me, but I just couldn’t grasp it. My mother often compared me to Chloe, and I hated disappointing her. I only had my mother left. Watching my grades stagnate, I grew increasingly anxious. A vague, dark idea began to coalesce in my mind. What if I killed Chloe? If I killed Chloe, I would gain all her middle school memories – three years of them. Some thoughts are like persistent weeds; once they sprout in your mind, they refuse to be uprooted. I had a plan. Just last year, the school had installed new air conditioning units; they worked incredibly well. Many older students would joke bitterly that the school only installed AC after they’d graduated. Chloe was quite short, always sitting in the first or second row, while I sat in the fifth or sixth. As summer approached, the school gradually switched on the air conditioning. I’d often complain about the heat, then during breaks, I’d stroll over to Chloe’s desk. While chatting with her, I’d casually crank the AC to 16 degrees Celsius on full blast. The moment the bell rang, I’d leave. Sometimes Chloe would remember to turn it back, sometimes she wouldn’t. So Chloe often sat through an entire class session blasted by cold air. Just a few days prior, Chloe and I had gone shopping downtown. I mentioned my mother had told me to stock up on cold medicine and asked if she needed any. “Cold medicine in the middle of summer? What for?” she’d asked. “My mom says I’m constantly in air-conditioned rooms at home and school, but then I’m out in the heat sweating. The drastic temperature changes make it easy to catch a cold, so she told me to get some meds just in case.” Chloe hesitated, then agreed it made sense, and bought the same medicine as me. When I saw Chloe blowing her nose and complaining of a headache, I knew my chance had come. That afternoon after school, Chloe and I walked home together, as usual. “Let’s sit by the riverside park for a bit,” I suggested. We often stopped there after school to relax and chat, so it wasn’t unusual. I pulled Chloe along, deliberately guiding her to a spot within view of the nearby convenience store’s surveillance cameras. I told Chloe to open her backpack. She unzipped it to find two bottles of alcohol, and they looked pretty potent. She pulled the bottles out. “Ta-da! A surprise for you!” she exclaimed. “We’re almost high schoolers. Don’t you want to try it?” I turned slightly, letting my hair fall forward to obscure my mouth. I knew Chloe well. Beneath her compliant facade, she harbored a streak of rebellion. Chloe’s parents were always quite strict with her. She secretly yearned for something wild, something transgressive, but she’d never had the opportunity. Chloe held the bottles, then handed one to me. I turned, feigning sudden apprehension, a flicker of regret. I waved my hand. “Maybe we shouldn’t? Chloe, won’t your mom and dad be mad?” Hearing that, Chloe’s resolve only stiffened. “It’s fine! Just one sip!” I maintained my hesitant expression until Chloe forcefully pressed a bottle into my hand. We talked for hours. We discussed recent exams, our futures, our detested Math teacher, and the breathtaking sunset. She apologized to me. She said sometimes she couldn’t help but treat me like her little sidekick. She said I was her best friend, that I always would be. I said, “Yes.” Seeing that it was getting late, I patted Chloe’s shoulder and suggested we head home. I hadn’t actually drunk much; every time I raised the bottle, it was just a tiny sip. Chloe, however, seemed quite tipsy, struggling to get to her feet. I’d done my research: Chloe’s mother was working late shifts all week, and her father had the night shift. Chloe would be home alone. I looked at Chloe. “Bye, Chloe.” “See you tomorrow.” “Oh, and one more thing.” I smiled, meeting her eyes. “You’ve got a bit of a cold coming on. Remember to take your cold medicine when you get home.” Chloe smiled and nodded, her eyes, in the fading light of the sunset, held a gentle, flickering flame. I calmly returned home, ate dinner with my mother, and finished my homework as usual. Then I drifted peacefully into sleep. The next morning, a sharp pain shot through my head. I found my mind suddenly crowded with new memories. I knew. I had succeeded. 3 Chloe was dead. Chloe’s mother found her collapsed in the living room when she came home that night. By the time they got her to the hospital, it was too late. Police investigation concluded she had died from poisoning, a lethal reaction to consuming antibiotics and alcohol simultaneously. In an age before widespread internet access, as middle schoolers, we weren’t fully aware of such common knowledge. Except for me, armed with three years of my father’s memories. That’s right. The cold medicine Chloe and I had bought that day contained cephalosporin, a common antibiotic. It had all gone too smoothly, beyond my wildest expectations. I’d considered so many possibilities: Chloe might not have taken the medicine. Chloe might have taken medicine, but not the cephalosporin. Chloe might have felt unwell and called for help in time. Her mother might have come home early and stopped her. Could such seamless success mean that fate itself was on my side? As Chloe’s best friend, and the last person to see her alive, I was called to the police station for questioning. I was a minor, so a parent had to accompany me. Facing the police officers, I looked utterly terrified. My mother comforted me. “It’s okay, honey, the officers just want to ask you a few questions.” “Yes, don’t be scared, little one, we just have some questions for you,” the officer added kindly. They clearly didn’t suspect a young girl like me could be capable of anything nefarious. “According to the victim’s mother, Chloe didn’t usually drink alcohol, yet you two were drinking that day. Why was that?” I looked scared, turning to my mother. My mother gave my arm a reassuring pat, signaling that it was fine, just to tell the truth. “Chloe said she wanted to try drinking that day, just for a thrill. She suddenly pulled two bottles of alcohol out of her bag.” I paused, my voice trembling. “I really didn’t want to drink, and I tried to convince her not to, but who would have thought…” As I spoke, tears began to stream down my face, uncontrolled. The officer nodded. The surveillance footage indeed showed Chloe practically forcing the bottle into my hand. The police asked a few more innocuous questions, then let me leave. The case was ultimately classified as a tragic consequence of adolescent rebellion and a fatal lack of basic knowledge. Chloe’s death was even publicized within the school as a cautionary tale. I sorted through the torrent of new thoughts in my mind, like discovering a new continent. Chloe’s mind, it turned out, contained an astonishing wealth of knowledge. My grades skyrocketed, making my mother incredibly happy. I was thrilled. On the day of the middle school entrance exams, I performed flawlessly, earning my desired spot at Northwood Academy, the best high school in the city. My mother sold our house and bought a new one in a desirable school district near Northwood Academy. My new bedroom was spacious, with a large window. I even had my own study. During the summer, my mother enrolled me in a high school preparatory course. So when high school started, I wasn’t completely overwhelmed. But I knew this wasn’t a sustainable solution. I lacked any real academic talent; I simply wasn’t intelligent. Even with Chloe’s solid knowledge base, I would eventually fall behind. My last success had relied too heavily on luck. This time, I needed to meticulously plan my high school years.

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