Category: English

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The day I turned 55 and officially retired, my husband was hauled away by the cops for embezzling company funds. All that stolen money? Spent on some cheap tramp. The bank card my husband left me had a balance of ten dollars. Staring at the spending records for Frank the cops showed me – one night at the Hilton, $8,800; outlet mall receipts for $65,000. Looking down at my own darned socks, I nearly coughed up blood. I’d scrimped and saved my whole life, while my husband was out there showering his mistress with cash. I was dumber than a box of rocks. The biggest fool in the world. 1 Ring, ring, ring! The phone blared urgently. “Jenna, sis, Frank borrowed two hundred grand from me. If you don’t pay it back, I’m just gonna have to come camp out at your place.” “Jenna, Frank took eighty thousand from me. I borrowed that money from my mother-in-law! If you don’t give it back, she’ll skin me alive!” “Jenna… if I can’t make it, your whole family can forget about living!” Frank’s mountain of debts was crushing me. Seeing Tiffany’s social media posts flaunting her European vacation, surrounded by shopping bags, my heart felt like it was being flayed, piece by piece. The pain was unbearable. Hounded by creditors, I finally snapped. I picked the biggest one, went to his house, and jumped from the roof. I had to. I needed to leave my daughter some kind of way out. Maybe even fate thought I’d had too raw a deal in this life. Because after I jumped, I was somehow reborn. Reborn on the day in 1993 when Frank and I were supposed to get our marriage license. From this, I learned one thing: only those who’ve suffered too much, too miserably, get a do-over. And I’d definitely earned mine. “Jenna, today’s the day you get your license! Get up, quick!” My roommate, Tiffany, was practically vibrating with excitement, urging me on. I wanted to slap her across the face. That’s right. Tiffany. The cheap tramp, the long-time mistress. Of course, back then, she wasn’t old. “Tiff, I’m the one getting married. What are you so worked up about?” Tiffany looked like she hadn’t expected me to say that. She quickly plastered a smile on her face. “Jenna, I’m just happy for you! Frank’s such a great guy, you can’t let him slip away.” Frank’s family was dirt poor. He was the oldest, with a gaggle of younger siblings. My family was infinitely better off than his. My dad was the manager at the town’s main supply store, and my mom was a director at a large manufacturing plant. Let Frank slip away? Ugh, I spat inwardly. How stupid was I back then to fall for Tiffany’s brainwashing? “Jenna, what’s most important is that a man is hardworking and ambitious.” Frank had nothing, so all he had left was ambition. Come to think of it, why did I even notice Frank back then? Tiffany’s brainwashing deserved a lot of the credit. Right. A man as hardworking and great as Frank should definitely end up with Tiffany, the future old mistress. No need to wait thirty years. I’ll create the opportunity for you two right now. Tiffany, you can be the one to struggle alongside Frank in this lifetime. “Tiff, my stomach’s a little upset. Could you do me a favor and tell Frank we’ll go to City Hall another day?” Tiffany looked like she wanted to say something else, but I just lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. A few days later, the gossip mill at the textile plant was buzzing: Frank’s devoted puppy, Jenna, had found someone new. Jenna hadn’t brought Frank his breakfast during his early shift. For several days straight, Jenna hadn’t been seen fawning over Frank. Watching everyone whisper, I strolled nonchalantly through the workshop in my new high heels, confidently heading to my office. That’s right, my job was just answering phones in the office, passing on the plant manager’s instructions. And, of course, relaying any juicy workshop gossip to the manager. When I first got the job, I felt super awkward. I did nothing all day but drink tea, read the paper, and scheme about how to chase Frank, completely wasting all that prime goof-off time. Thank you, my dear mother. Mom, you were so wise, knowing how to just chill even back then. But, you only get one shot from fate. This time, I was going to live differently. I had just sat down at my desk when Frank walked in. “Jenna, why weren’t you there to get the license yesterday?” 2 Thinking back to my past life, how I’d scrimped and saved my entire life for Frank’s business ventures. Not only did I deprive myself, but I was also strict with our daughter, never giving her allowance, making her the poorest kid in her class, all to lighten Frank’s burden. But while I was mistreating myself and our daughter, what was my wonderful husband doing? Out there, lavishing money on his mistress, $8,000 a night for a hotel. Frank, were you even human? The thought made it impossible for me to forgive him. Looking at Frank, thirty years younger, I wanted to rip his heart out and see if it was black or red. Some people really are like that: living in luxury themselves while making their wives forage for wild greens at home. “Frank, if I didn’t show up for the license, it’s because I didn’t want to.” The current me wasn’t about to consider Frank’s feelings. “Jenna, you were the one who wanted to get married, and now you’re the one calling it off! What the hell do you want?” “Nothing much. I just got bored of playing, didn’t want to continue.” Seeing Frank’s face turn ashen, I knew I’d successfully pissed him off. Frank always had a massive ego, and I’d always been the one chasing him. Now, telling him I was just playing around? Of course, he couldn’t take it. “Jenna, don’t you regret this!” With that, Frank stormed off, furious. Regret? Of course, I regretted it. I regretted not seeing your true colors sooner. You could only share hardship, not wealth. Just because I saw you at your lowest, you couldn’t wait to get away from me. Marrying such an ungrateful man, I must have been truly blind. After ditching Frank, I couldn’t wait to go home. In my past life, I’d cut ties with my parents to be with Frank. For over twenty years, I could count the number of times I’d been home on one hand. Later, when things got bad, I was even more ashamed to go back. It’s so good. Oh, fate, you’re so good. If there’s a next life, I’ll burn incense for you three times a day, morning and night, no take-backs. “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” Mom poked her head out of the kitchen. “How come you’re back? It’s not even the weekend.” Looking at my mom bustling in the kitchen, a wave of emotion hit me. In my past life, after Frank’s embezzlement came to light, creditors came in waves. Tiffany kicked me out of my own house. When Mom found out how I’d ended up, she was so angry she passed away not long after. Before she died, she said if only she could have stopped me one more time. Frank wasn’t just ‘honest’; he was the type to get arrogant once he got a taste of success, and everyone around him suffered for it. “Mom, Frank and I are over.” My mom didn’t even look up. “What kind of drama are you stirring up now?” It seemed my reputation as Frank’s devoted puppy was so ingrained, even my own mother didn’t believe I could break up with him. But a small smile still played on her lips. “Mom, I don’t want to work at the textile mill anymore. I want to change jobs.” My mom didn’t know it yet, but in another two or three years, factories all over the country would be failing, and nearly all the workers would be laid off. The seemingly undesirable government jobs, banks, and similar positions, on the other hand, would thrive. “Such a good job, and you just want to quit? Don’t tell me you and Frank really broke up?” Mom advised while stir-frying. “Even if you broke up, there’s no need to change jobs. You don’t know how many people envy your position.” It seemed Mom didn’t believe that the big state-owned factory was about to collapse. Right now, I had to quickly figure out a new path for myself. A person suddenly popped into my mind: Chris. Chris, the most inconspicuous worker in the workshop. 3 Chris. After the factory went bankrupt, he went into business for himself. First, he did clothing, then later, when he got bigger, he started supermarkets. By the time I died, he was already a well-known entrepreneur. I always felt Chris wasn’t like other businessmen, solely focused on profit. In my previous life, after Frank was arrested, the police notified me to come to the station to understand the situation. While I was waiting outside Officer Miller’s door, I heard someone inside his office. “Can you please not tell her these things?” “Mr. Chen, I’m sorry, she has the right to know, and it’s my duty.” I was pacing outside when Chris walked out of Officer Miller’s office. I recognized him instantly. “Chris?” “Jenna.” Looking at Chris in his well-tailored suit, I could hardly believe it. The once quiet, serious young worker had become the chairman of a publicly listed group. And there I was, disheveled and stressed, dealing with Frank transferring my house to that old mistress. Chris waited until I finished talking with Officer Miller. Sitting in Chris’s car, although I didn’t want to tell him about my miserable situation, he probably already knew about Frank’s affairs. “Jenna, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask me.” Although Chris and I had worked in the same factory, we hadn’t had much interaction. How could I possibly trouble him? “Chris, it’s nothing major, I can handle it. Even though Frank’s in jail, I can still get by.” Chris seemed to want to say more, but I hurriedly got out of the car. Thinking back now, Chris was the only person willing to help me after my family’s crisis. A person like that must be a warm person. With that thought, I bought a box of pastries from a roadside stall and walked into the workshop, holding the warm box. Chris had just started his shift. “Chris, I brought you some pastries.” Chris had one glove on, the other halfway on; both hands just froze in mid-air. “Jenna, you brought me pastries?” “Yeah, for… for… never mind why. I just bought too many and can’t finish them. Thought you could help me out.” Chris’s eyes instantly dimmed. At that moment, I heard the whispers of the workers arriving for their shifts. “What’s up with Miss Jenna? She’s not chasing Frank anymore, switched to Chris?” “Nah, look at how hard she was chasing Frank. She’s probably just playing hard to get.” Just then, Frank also walked in from outside. He saw the pastries in Chris’s hand and walked past as if nothing was wrong. The work bell rang. I smiled at Chris. “I owe you this. Eat them while they’re hot.” I had just gotten to the office when Tiffany came in. “Jenna, Jenna, did you know? The factory is selecting an announcer. You should put my name in!” “The workshop is too tiring. I can’t stay in the workshop long-term. Take this chance and talk to the plant manager for me.” Heaven-sent! Being an announcer, just moving your mouth all day. I hadn’t even thought of it until she mentioned it. Her saying it was practically a reminder. You want to be an announcer? In your next life. Though I thought this inwardly, I said sweetly, “No problem, leave it to me.” Watching Tiffany sashay away, I laughed so hard I snorted like a pig. The announcer list, hehe. I put her name on the list for Textile Workshop Two. Textile Workshop Two, the most exhausting workshop in the entire factory. That old mistress, I’ll work you to the bone. 4 As soon as work ended, I went to the workshop to wait for Chris. Chris didn’t show up, but Frank came out. “Jenna, you have movie tickets. Are we going to the movies? Let’s skip it today. I’ll take you home to meet my mom.” Seeing the two movie tickets in my hand, Frank said, rather begrudgingly. Meet your freaking mom. “Frank, sorry, the movie tickets aren’t for you. Also, I have absolutely no relationship with your mom, so there’s no need to meet.” “Alright, Jenna, I’ve already humbled myself this much. What more do you want?” Frank probably still thought I was just pouting. Heh, look at my ex-husband from my past life. How easy was I to please, how utterly infatuated, to willingly suck up to him for a lifetime. This is what he calls humbling himself? He clearly misunderstands the meaning of humility. “Frank, was I not clear yesterday? I’ll say it again today: I was just playing with you. We’re over.” At that moment, many workers were passing by, and, as luck would have it, they all heard. Frank’s face flushed red. “Jenna, this is your last chance. Are you coming home with me or not?” More and more workers gathered around. Even the plant manager, holding his thermos, strolled out. Everyone looked like they were ready for some drama. Well, a gentleman helps others achieve their aims. Everyone was ready, so I had to cooperate. What could be more crushing to Frank than public humiliation? “Frank, we’re over. Don’t come looking for me anymore.” After saying that, I walked straight up to Chris. “Chris, are you busy tonight? I’d like to take you to a movie.” “No!” Chris blurted out without thinking. “Then let’s go. Shall we grab some chili at that diner downtown first?” “Okay.” Chris looked a little pleased. I glanced back at Frank. His face was ashen, staring intently at Chris and me, as if he couldn’t believe I would leave with Chris. But whatever happened with Frank was none of my business. “Chris, have you ever thought about going into business for yourself?” Chris was currently munching on a sandwich, but I saw a fleeting glint in his eyes. “Jenna, how did you know I wanted to go into business?” “Maybe it’s… like we’re on the same wavelength.” Chris’s face instantly turned red. If I had known earlier that Chris was this reliable and easy to flirt with, I would have fought tooth and nail to be with him in my past life. Looking at Chris across the table, his eyes slightly bright, my heart felt like something had tugged at it too. The key thing was, Chris looked incredibly hot just munching on that sandwich. Is this the legendary “younger, cute guy” appeal? I think this old soul is starting to get it.

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I’ve always had a powerful libido. Though I’ve never seen a doctor about it, I’m pretty sure I have a sex addiction. Especially during ovulation, I need it at least two or three times a day, otherwise I’d be crawling out of my skin with discomfort. My husband, David, a big, strapping guy, should have been perfect for filling this void. But lately, he’s been swamped with work, traveling for half a month straight. I was completely beside myself. I kept zoning out at work, and even my nightly sessions with my favorite vibrator weren’t enough anymore. My mind was consumed by thoughts of men. It got so bad I had to carry extra underwear in my bag, just in case. That evening, the subway was particularly packed. I’d just managed to squeeze into a corner when I felt a hot, large hand press against my behind, kneading my buttock firmly. “Jerk!” Almost every attractive woman commuting on the subway has encountered a pervert. I was no exception. And today, I was wearing a tight-fitting skirt, so short that if I bent over, you could easily glimpse the pink thong wrapped around my private parts. It was precisely the kind of outfit that perverts on the subway loved to target. Almost guaranteed to draw unwanted attention. But when I subtly glanced back, my face burned crimson. I never in a million years imagined the man brazenly touching my behind was my father-in-law, Robert, who’d just arrived in New York City from out of state. My husband had called yesterday to say Robert would be staying with us for a while, but I hadn’t expected to run into him on the subway. Even more shocking, he hadn’t recognized me. He clearly thought I was one of those outwardly prim but inwardly provocative women who wouldn’t dare fight back. Through the reflection in the window, I could see his broad body completely enveloping me, his face showing an expression of pure pleasure as he continued his illicit caress. I hung my head, clenching my buttocks tightly, tensing every muscle in my body to fight against the intense, bone-deep tingling that threatened to make me cry out. I was terrified of letting out a disgraceful moan. What was I supposed to do? Should I turn around? But his large hand was still gliding over my backside. If I revealed myself now, wouldn’t it be incredibly awkward? Should I pretend not to know? But we were headed to the same destination. Whether I got off early or rode a few more stops, we were bound to run into each other eventually. I hesitated, only two choices lay before me: turn around and reveal my identity, or continue enduring. Originally, I was prepared to grit my teeth and speak up, but when Robert’s fingers gently brushed against the edge of my underwear, my body instinctively chose the latter. It felt like the prelude to something more, as he seemed to be trying to explore further. “Mmph…” The sudden sensation made me stifle a moan, and I subconsciously arched my hips back a little, making it easier for him to press closer. I had to admit, his touch was incredibly deliberate; every motion seemed to target my most sensitive spots, like a key unlocking a deep, bottomless well of desire within me. My body reacted almost immediately, a warm flush spreading through me. But Robert wasn’t satisfied. He wanted more. I could feel him shift, subtly lowering his body, using his thumbs to hook the sides of my thong, slowly pulling it down to the edge of my thighs, crumpling it into a tiny ball. Then, he subtly pushed my buttocks apart, pressing his warm, hard presence against me, inching forward as if trying to find a way in. “N-no… you can’t.” The person behind me was my own father-in-law. How could such a thing happen between us? The last vestiges of my sanity made me bite my lip, trying desperately to stay lucid. With a sudden burst of resolve, I spun around. “Dad, it’s… it’s me.” I quickly pulled my underwear back up, my face so hot I felt it might drip blood. I couldn’t meet his gaze. “Uh… Sarah? Is that you?” Robert seemed startled, quickly stepping back, stopping his movements. Almost instantly, an alarming protrusion became visible to my eyes. My eyes widened in shock. Is… is that a normal size for a man? I wasn’t some naive girl; on the contrary, my experience would make any woman my age blush with shame. But Robert’s impressive package, more formidable than anything I’d ever seen, still stunned me. David’s wasn’t small, but this was undeniably larger, at least a third bigger. The thought of being pinned beneath such a powerful man, his hands on me, filled me with a shocking mix of terror and forbidden curiosity. The thought alone sent shivers down my spine. I quickly averted my gaze, using my bag to block his lower body. My voice trembled. “C-can you put that away… please…” “Oh, right… sorry…” It wasn’t until we got off the subway, almost home, that Robert finally spoke. “Sarah, you should really be more careful, don’t wear such revealing clothes. It’s easy to run into creeps, especially for a young, beautiful woman like you.” He said nothing about what had happened on the subway, adopting the air of an elder lecturing a junior. I didn’t reply, my mind still fixated on that fleeting glimpse of his body. I touched my face, which was still burning hot. If I hadn’t turned around just now… He would have… done it to me right there in the crowded train. I couldn’t help but fantasize, my empty body increasingly out of control. My thighs felt a swarm of ants crawling through them, itchy and numb. My mind replayed images of being held down by Robert, completely at his mercy. Finally, the forbidden and shameful thrill became too much. The moment I opened the front door, I bolted for the bedroom as if fleeing for my life. “Dad… I’m not feeling well. Just fix yourself something to eat and try to get to bed early, okay?” I eagerly dove onto the bed, stripped off my clothes, pulled a small device from deep within my nightstand, spread my legs, and pressed the switch, aiming it towards the living room where Robert was. I wanted it so badly! I yearned for a man to appear on my bed right now! Anyone! No matter the consequences, as long as he was as strong as Robert! As long as he could fill the emptiness in my body! Until my energy was completely depleted, the last thing I thought before losing consciousness was: If… Robert were to burst in and rape me right now… would I resist? In the early hours of the morning, I was woken by a buzzing sound, only to realize I was still clutching my small toy. Though the lingering sensations made me want to lie there indefinitely, the urge to use the restroom forced me to struggle to my feet, slip on a nightgown, and stumble sleepily towards the bathroom. But then, something unexpected happened! When I couldn’t find the light switch, I relied on muscle memory and sat down on the toilet, only to realize the sensation was completely wrong. This… what was this? I instinctively twisted my hips, and my body jolted as if shocked by electricity. A high-pitched scream was about to erupt from my throat when a thick, strong hand clamped over my mouth from behind. “Shh… Sarah, it’s me…” Robert was pressed against me from behind, one hand covering my mouth, the other cupping my breast, holding me completely in his embrace. “The power went out while I was showering earlier, so I sat on the toilet to wait for it to come back on. And you just… sat right on top of me.” Robert whispered into my ear, like a lover. I have to admit, in that pitch-black environment, hearing a familiar voice immediately calmed me. I realized the man behind me wasn’t an attacker, but my own father-in-law. But very quickly, my heart began to pound. Because our current position felt exactly like a woman on top of a man during sex. Especially when Robert felt my stiff body gradually relax, he loosened his hand from my mouth, then deliberately cupped my other breast, gently kneading it. This made the entire room thick with a perverse atmosphere. “Mm-ah…” The pleasure of having my breast played with made me involuntarily cry out, and my body began to tremble. “Dad… please, let me get up first…” I desperately tried to suppress the rising heat within me, carefully shifting my body, terrified that if I slipped, that part of him pressing against my bottom would pierce me. But my soft legs felt like jelly, unable to muster any strength. I could only brace myself by placing my hands on Robert’s legs, but doing so only lifted my body, pushing that alarming presence even closer to my most private spot. Back and forth, I couldn’t break free from his embrace. Instead, the repeated friction against my sensitive areas made my bones ache, unable to sit still. “Let me lift you then…” Robert gave my chest a firm squeeze, then slipped his arms beneath my knees, lifting me like he was helping me relieve myself. He swung his hips a couple of times, deliberately rubbing his hardened presence against my inner thighs. “Ah!” I jumped as if electrocuted, instinctively reaching to cover myself, but Robert lifted me higher, and I involuntarily sat back down again. I quickly hooked my arms around his neck, arching my chest, my sweaty body becoming more sensitive than ever, on the verge of collapse from the waves of pleasure. “N-no… stop doing this to me…” Robert braced his back, ignoring my pleas, using his hands to bounce my hips up and down, teasing my soft areas with a light touch, constantly provoking my desires. His breathing grew heavy. Just a few thrusts, and I could barely take it anymore. That spot of mine felt flooded, completely liquefied. “Mmm-uh-ah…” The overwhelming shame completely shattered my reason. Unknowingly, I grabbed my own breasts, kneading them forcefully, actively spreading my legs wider, twisting my hips, ceaselessly chasing that sliver of pleasure. However, that pleasure lasted only a moment. Robert suddenly stopped. “Give it to me… I want it…” Losing that sole sensation of pleasure, I arched my neck, crying out sweetly. I grabbed his wrist, forcefully pulling him down, and my hips sank completely… “Ahhh…” At that moment, my eyes rolled back. I felt my soul soar to heaven…

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Ben Harding, my childhood sweetheart, had gone missing on a hiking trip. This time, I called the rescue team instead of venturing into the mountains myself. In my past life, to save him, I fell off a cliff and shattered both my legs, becoming a cripple in a wheelchair. The Harding family, out of gratitude, made him marry me. I thought my secret crush had finally blossomed into true love, but what I got was twenty years of cold indifference. It wasn’t until the day of the mall fire that I used my broken body to brace against the collapsing debris, saving him and his daughter. Yet, I heard my own child sneer, “Serves you right! Who told you to break up Daddy and Chloe? You cripple should have died long ago!” Even more despairing was Ben, holding Chloe Adams tightly, exclaiming, “Thank heavens, we can finally be together!” Watching them embrace, I died filled with hatred. Reborn to this day, I smirked – if you want to be together, I’ll make it happen this time. 1 “Ellie, you just won the hiking championship; you know these mountains like the back of your hand. Only you can find Ben!” Mike Sullivan, Ben’s best friend, gripped my wrist tightly, his anxious eyes holding a calculating glint that I could now clearly see. In my previous life, he used the exact same tactic, telling me the “rescue team was too slow” to rush me into the mountains. Back then, I was frantic, heedless of the slippery mountain paths, and plunged into the pouring rain with only a thin rope. When I found Ben trapped on a broken cliff, I lost my footing while trying to save him, suffering comminuted fractures that left my legs permanently disabled. That memory cut like a knife. With a blank expression, I yanked my hand from Mike’s grasp. “The rescue team has professional equipment and experience. They’re a hundred times more capable than I am alone.” He frowned, his tone suddenly chilling. “The rescue team will take at least half an hour to get here. Ben can’t wait that long.” Seeing I remained indifferent, he raised his voice an octave. “Your childhood sweetheart is missing and possibly dying, and you’re just going to let him be? Ellie Vance, have you no conscience?” How laughable. In my previous life, I risked my life to save him, and what did I get in return? Twenty years of coldness. The undisguised disgust in his eyes when he looked at me. The cruel words, “Just seeing you makes me sick.” The first time I caught him kissing Chloe, I suggested divorce. But he refused, citing that he “didn’t want to worry his parents.” From then on, he grew even colder towards me, his daily disdain eroding my self-worth to the core. I always thought it was my disability that made him and his daughter despise me. It wasn’t until I heard the truth right before I died that I realized how ridiculous all my efforts for him had been. This time, I would absolutely not repeat the same mistakes. “If you truly want to save him, contact the rescue team immediately.” I said calmly, no longer looking at Mike’s shocked expression, and turned to leave. He grabbed me. “Ellie Vance, how can you be so cold-blooded? If you walk away today, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life!” The icy rain beat on my wrist, and for a fleeting moment, I felt the bone-chilling cold of falling from the cliff in my previous life. I yanked my hand away fiercely. “Notify the rescue team. Don’t waste any more time.” I left without looking back, ignoring the furious shouts behind me. Life had taught me a harsh lesson. This time, I chose to protect myself. 2 When Ben Harding was found by the rescue team, his right arm was severely fractured. The news exploded on social media, with my former “friends” unanimously condemning me as cold-blooded and evil. “That woman used to fawn over Ben like a lost puppy, but when something actually happened, she ran faster than anyone. With that cowardice, she actually thought she could be Mrs. Harding?” “I heard Ellie Vance could have saved Ben but deliberately didn’t, hoping something bad would happen to him. What a wicked woman.” “Well, now he definitely won’t want her.” Looking at these venomous comments, my heart remained as calm as still water. In my previous life, I risked everything to save Ben, nearly losing my life, only to be met with his cold indifference as I lay dying. Even my own daughter, just because Chloe Adams took her to an amusement park a few times, treated that woman as her mother. How many times did I endure illness, pushing my wheelchair, to take my child to the amusement park? But he never remembered; he only found it embarrassing to have a mother like me. I owed neither of them anything. Reminding his friend to call the rescue team was already more than enough. Because of the incident, Ben specifically requested to see me after he woke up in the hospital. His right arm, encased in a cast, hung stiffly by his side, but his uninjured left hand was wrapped tightly around Chloe’s slender waist. “Ellie Vance, thank you for not saving me.” He smirked, his eyes glinting with triumph. “I came to tell you that my parents have agreed to my marriage with Chloe. The wedding is set for next month.” I smiled indifferently. “Congratulations.” In my past life, my marriage to Ben had two reasons: first, because I saved his life; second, because the Harding parents had discovered Chloe had been involved with several wealthy benefactors for money and didn’t want such a morally questionable woman in their family. But Ben believed I was exploiting his gratitude, forcing his parents to make him marry me, and tormented me for twenty years because of it. In this life, because I didn’t play the savior, the Harding family finally agreed to their marriage. “Ben, you finally got what you wanted,” I said flatly. He seemed surprised by my calm demeanor, and the anger in his eyes intensified. “Ellie Vance, I hope you’ll continue to be this sensible. Don’t bother me again.” With that, he pulled Chloe into a passionate kiss right in front of me, as if deliberately trying to hurt me. “Ben, you’re so naughty. Ellie, darling, will get jealous~” Chloe said, her voice cloyingly sweet, her eyes betraying a hidden triumph. My stomach churned. I had no patience for these two hypocrites and turned to leave. At that moment, my heart felt surprisingly calm, as if a twenty-year burden had been lifted. 3 I thought I’d never have anything to do with Ben again, but then I received an invitation to Grandpa Harding’s eightieth birthday gala. My parents happened to be traveling abroad and couldn’t decline, so I had to attend. Halfway through the party, I avoided the commotion and headed towards the balcony. As I turned, I accidentally bumped into someone. With a sharp crash, a priceless, ancient Roman bust tumbled from beside me, shattering into a thousand pieces on the marble floor. I looked up, meeting Ben Harding’s furious gaze. His arm was still in a cast. Chloe immediately gasped, covering her mouth. “Ellie, darling, how could you be so clumsy! That was Ben’s gift to Grandpa Harding, a genuine, rare ancient Roman bust! There are fewer than ten known pieces in the world!” As soon as she finished speaking, gasps rippled through the surrounding guests. “Oh my goodness, that’s a priceless antique. Miss Vance is too reckless!” “I heard Mr. Harding had been preparing this birthday gift for half a year. To have it ruined like this is such a tragedy.” Mike Sullivan pushed aside the onlookers and pointed at me, yelling, “Ellie Vance, last time Ben was in danger, you refused to help, and now you dare to ruin Grandpa Harding’s birthday gift? You truly have a wicked heart!” The surroundings immediately erupted in chatter: “Miss Vance and Mr. Harding were childhood sweethearts. How could she do such a thing?” “If you ask me, she should be kicked out. She’s an embarrassment to everyone.” Ben scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. “Ellie Vance, how many more tricks do you plan to pull? Do you think this will make me notice you more? What a pipe dream.” The next second, he grabbed my neck with his left hand, gritting his teeth. “Three hundred and seventy million, I want you to pay ten times that amount, three point seven billion. Otherwise, I won’t let you off the hook.” I struggled desperately, but his grip tightened. Chloe chose that moment to rush over, pretending to stop Ben, but in reality, speaking with thinly veiled malice: “Ben, honey, don’t be angry. Ellie, darling, surely didn’t mean to do it. She probably just wanted to get your attention so badly, she lost her head for a moment…” Before she could finish, Ben brutally flung me away. I staggered back a few steps, nearly falling. “Ellie Vance, I warned you, don’t cling to me anymore!” His eyes were ice cold, looking at me as if I were something disgusting. Chloe feigned kindness and walked towards me. “Ellie, darling, get up now. You’re a proper lady; don’t do such embarrassing things again…”

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“Oh God, this is… just incredible…” In the girls’ dorm room, a naked girl let out a cry that was almost a sob, her slender body arching forward, hands clutching the sheets, her whole frame stiff. I held her tight until she melted into a boneless puddle on the bed. My name’s Josh, and I’m a freshman in college. Yesterday, the pre-semester bootcamp ended, and my girlfriend, Ashley, who’d been pent up for half a month, wasted no time calling me into her dorm. Under the cover of her and her roommates, I managed to sneak past Dorm Supervisor Ms. Jenkins’s inspection and stay the night. “You wild thing, I want you…” As soon as the lights went out, Ashley grabbed my hand, pulling it under her nightgown, and kissed me. I playfully squeezed her butt. “They’re not asleep yet.” “Don’t think I don’t know…” Ashley wriggled her body against me, a beautiful leg wrapping around my waist. “Every time you make me feel like I’m dying… isn’t it on purpose, so they can hear you… doing me?” She whispered the last two words into my ear. “You naughty girl! Are you that eager?” Feeling Ashley’s wet tongue, I grew increasingly aroused. I pulled off her nightgown, hooked one arm around her wrists above her head, and pressed her down beneath me. “Yes… I’m a tease… don’t you like me a little wild?” Ashley rocked her hips, continuing to provoke me. “Am I wild enough tonight? Hmm?” “Wild? You’re absolutely ravenous!”

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