Category: English

1 I was the Celestial Princess, born of starlight and blessed by the All-Mother. My destiny was to undergo the final Ascension—a trial to become the last true god. But during my trial, as the last lightning struck, the storm raged on. Lyra, my lifelong handmaiden, then transformed. Nine amethyst tails unfurled—proof of divine bloodline. She wept in my mother’s arms: “Eloise’s trial will fail. I have the sacred blood!” The Queen, furious, dragged me to the Scourge Dais. “Today, I’ll have justice for my true daughter!” The King siphoned my millennia of power to Lyra. “This is what you owe her.” My husband Kaelen gazed at Lyra tenderly. “Fate’s threads weave true. At last, destined lovers unite.” Lyra demanded a final price: my flesh for my mother, my bones for my father. I died piece by piece, consumed by cosmic despair. 2 When I awoke, reborn into the past, I was standing on the Scourge Dais once more. My mother was just about to announce my true parentage to the assembled Celestials. But this time, something was different. Just as I braced myself for the denunciation, my mother’s voice rang out, sharp and unyielding as forged steel. “Eloise is the one and only Princess of the Celestials! This is not open for debate!” The sky, already a bruised tapestry of storm clouds, was ripped open by jagged white scars of lightning. A bolt of raw, divine power struck me, and the world dissolved into white-hot agony. The skin it touched blackened and split, a searing torment. But I had no skin left to burn. No flesh left to char. In my last life, my father had already seen to that. On that day, to erase any lingering doubt, he had put me on trial before the entire court. “You have been nurtured by the Celestial realm for seventy thousand years,” he had declared, his voice devoid of any warmth. “This is a debt you owe Lyra. Today, you will repay it.” By then, my seventy millennia of carefully cultivated essence—my very core—had already been drained from me by a secret Celestial artifact and poured into Lyra. I was nothing more than a mortal husk, collapsed and broken on the cold stone. “My power… I earned it through ages of toil,” I’d rasped, my breath shallow. “Lyra now wields it with no effort. Is that not enough?” Lyra’s reply was a cold hiss, her eyes like a serpent’s. “Enough? You dare speak of seventy thousand years? You stole my life! You stole my parents! For seventy thousand years, I should have been the princess, and instead, I lived as a servant because of you!” She turned to the King and Queen. “Father! Mother! If she does not repay her debt—flesh for my mother, bone for my father—then I would rather not be a princess at all!” My mother had flinched, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. “Must it come to this? She has already been…” But Lyra threw herself into our mother’s arms, her expression a perfect portrait of pitiable suffering. “Mother…” The Queen said nothing. She sighed, a sound of resignation, and turned away. Seventy thousand years of raising me, undone by a single, whispered word from Lyra. The Celestial guards dragged my unresisting body to the execution block on the dais. The pain was so absolute that I tried to throw myself from the platform, to find the mercy of a quick end. But Kaelen, my husband, stopped me. “Lyra said you’re not to miss a single cut.” Driven mad by agony, I begged him, a primal plea. “For the love we shared, I beg you. Grant me this one mercy. Let me die with dignity. Let me die now!” Kaelen’s face was a frozen mask. “The love we shared? My wife has always been, and only ever will be, the Princess of the Celestials.” The flesh was carved from me, strip by agonizing strip. A torture so inhuman it shattered my soul. Lyra’s laughter echoed, wild and triumphant. “The highest form of this execution requires three thousand, three hundred and fifty-seven cuts. If I find any of you slacking, you’ll regret it.” The guards used the dullest blades. Every slice felt like it was scraping against my very spine. … Now, my father’s deep, imperious voice pulled me from the suffocating grip of that memory. “Eloise. As the Celestial Princess, why has your Divine Trial failed? Why have you not Ascended to godhood?” I lifted my gaze to meet his, a wall of ice. In my last life, I died never understanding how Lyra, a mere handmaiden, could manifest the nine tails—the ultimate proof of divine heritage. Reborn, I would not be so foolish as to walk the same path to ruin. 3 At the King’s question, the assembled Celestials erupted into a cacophony of murmurs. “The seven thunderbolts of the trial have all struck. Why is there no sign of her becoming a god?” “And the storm continues… It’s more than seven. Could her lineage be tainted? Is this a divine curse instead of a blessing?” I threw the question back at my father. “Am I the Celestial Princess or not? Father, are you not the one who knows this best?” I pressed on, my voice ringing with false innocence. “You watched me born, watched me grow. Could there have been a mistake?” The King was dismissive. “As ruler of the Celestials, my duties are vast. I have little time for the affairs of the inner palace.” The implication was clear: he could not, or would not, confirm my legitimacy. The doubts among the court grew louder. “The Princess is destined to become the last true god! The purity of her divine lineage is paramount to the honor of our race!” “If her blood is not pure, then where is the true heir?” My eyes found Kaelen. Though I already knew the answer that festered in his heart, I needed to hear it from his lips. “They all doubt me,” I said, my voice quiet. “Do you?” Kaelen, who had looked at me with such adoration only moments before, now had a storm of conflict in his eyes. “The entire court gathered to protect you through your trial. But seven thunderbolts have fallen, and you have not Ascended.” He couldn’t meet my gaze. “You are not the true princess… which means you are not my wife.” A bitter, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “Kaelen. Three thousand years we have been bound, and only today do I see you for what you are: a parasite. You never loved me. You loved the title: Princess of the Celestials. Future God.” He opened his mouth to defend himself, but a sweet, cloying voice cut him off. “Kaelen, darling, why waste your breath on this mongrel?” Lyra swept in, a vision of deliberate splendor, having dressed for the occasion. Before the entire court, she made her declaration. “Allow me to reveal the truth. I, Lyra, am the true Celestial Princess!” She let the ensuing chaos swell before continuing her tale. “Eloise’s mother was a handmaiden to the Queen. Consumed by jealousy, she switched the infants while the Queen was weakened from childbirth.” Lyra’s eyes met mine. She noticed my gaze lingering on her magnificent gown and smiled, a secret, triumphant smirk. She spoke to me then, a whisper carried on the wind that only I could hear. “I’ve always loved this dress on you. But it’s not just the dress. From now on, everything that was yours… is mine.” An uproar tore through the assembled nobles, but my father remained unnervingly calm. He simply asked, “Even if Eloise is an imposter, how can you prove that you are the true princess?” Lyra’s posture was one of pure arrogance. “Only those with the purest divine lineage can manifest the form of the ancient Nine-Tailed Vulpine, the mark of true god-kin. It has been tens of thousands of years since a child was born with the trait, but on the day the true princess was born, the sacred totem of the Nine-Tailed Vulpine shone with a violet light for three days and three nights.” As she spoke, a sliver of violet light pierced the gloom of the storm clouds, illuminating her in a solitary, divine spotlight. And there, for all to see, nine tails of pale amethyst unfurled behind her, like a blooming, deadly flower. A gasp went through the crowd. “By the All-Mother! It’s the blood of the Nine-Tails! The mark of a true god-kin, and the most noble violet, at that!” “She is the true princess! Have we been squandering our resources on a fake for all these years?!” Lyra swished her tails, a peacock displaying its lethal finery, the undeniable proof of her identity. Watching this perfectly orchestrated drama unfold, I saw all the seams I’d missed in my first life. It was too smooth, too rehearsed. And there was still one key player missing. I scanned the dais. My mother, the one who should have been at the forefront of my condemnation, was nowhere to be seen. 4 I tried to summon my own power, to manifest my true form, but just like before, nothing happened. The nine tails would not appear. In my previous life, desperate to prove my legitimacy, I had forced the transformation. But what had emerged was not my beautiful, elegant Vulpine tail. It was a thick, coiling tail of obsidian scales—a serpent’s tail. The sight had horrified even me, and it had sealed my fate as an imposter. If it weren’t for the memories of my own childhood, of my tail popping out uncontrollably whenever my power flared, I might have believed their lies myself. Now, in the present, my father draped a protective, sorrowful arm around Lyra’s shoulders. “My lords and ladies,” he announced, his voice heavy with feigned grief. “Our Celestial realm has been deceived by a lowly servant’s whelp for seventy thousand years! The princess who will bring us glory is here. It is Lyra!” At the pronouncement from their authoritative King, the eyes of the court turned on me, filled with accusation and hatred. “The daughter of a common servant, enjoying the honors of a princess for millennia! She must repay the debt!” “Cast the imposter from the Scourge Dais! Let her die in torment and regret!” I watched the mob’s fury rise, a familiar coldness seeping into my heart. For seventy thousand years, I had accepted their reverence, yes. But I had never shirked the duties of a princess. The Celestial population was sparse, and I had personally handled countless matters that never reached my father’s throne. Many of the nobles now screaming for my blood had accepted precious artifacts and elixirs from my own hand to break through their cultivation bottlenecks. For the honor of our people, I had trained without a single day’s rest, reaching the cusp of Divinity in a mere seventy thousand years. And now? I had done nothing but lose my title. The moment I could no longer benefit them, they wanted me dead. “The Scourge Dais? That’s too good for her!” Lyra spat, her voice laced with venom. “Without the realm’s resources, how could her essence have grown so powerful, so fast? Meanwhile, I, the true princess, was burdened with menial tasks, my own cultivation stagnating. Who knows how many millennia it will take for me to reach the power Eloise now possesses?” My eyes sharpened. This was the moment. In my last life, my father had heard these words and immediately agreed. “The Celestials possess a secret artifact, the Soul-Siphon. It can drain the essence of another and make it one’s own.” Just as I remembered, my father’s gaze turned on me, cold and hard. “This is what you owe her,” he said. “The debt is due.” I recoiled, feigning defiance. “Impossible! The essence I cultivated with my own blood and sweat? I will not give it as a gift to another!” Lyra’s eyes burned with envy. “If you weren’t a princess, with an endless supply of the realm’s treasures, you would be nothing!” The court roared its agreement. My father, taking this as his mandate, produced the Soul-Siphon—an obsidian amulet that seemed to drink the light from the air. It was clear he had it ready all along. “If you submit, you will suffer less,” he threatened. He lunged, a sword of pure energy materializing in his hand, aimed at my heart. I summoned a shield of my own, preparing to block the fatal blow. But with a deafening CLANG, his blade was struck from the air. A furious voice cut through the chaos. “Stop!” 5 All heads turned to see who possessed such power. There, standing before the King, her eyes blazing red, was my mother. The Queen. The King’s voice softened instantly. “Jocasta, my love, we have been deceived for seventy thousand years! The daughter you’ve protected with all your heart… she is not our blood!” I watched the scene unfold, a silent observer of my own past. In a moment, Lyra would rush to my mother, weeping about her tragic life as a servant. With the nine tails as proof of her divine blood, no one would doubt her. My mother, torn between pity and fury, would then personally escort me to the Scourge Dais. The Celestial lineage, since time immemorial, had been matrilineal. This was to ensure the sacred Vulpine blood—the spark of the gods—was passed down. Without my mother’s consent, my death would not have been so certain, so agonizing. Just as I remembered, the Queen pulled me towards the Scourge Dais. She turned to the assembled nobles and declared, “Today, I will have justice for my trueborn daughter!” Below the dais, Lyra shot me a playful, mocking wink. “Blood calls to blood, my dear. A mongrel like you could never compare.” She turned to the Queen. “Mother, I believe that after we transfer her essence to me, she should be flayed and boned. It’s the only way to appease my hatred.” The Queen glanced at Lyra, her expression darkening. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and then her voice rang out, clear and resolute. “Eloise is the one and only Princess of the Celestials! This is not open for debate!” The King’s face contorted. “Jocasta! The entire court saw Lyra’s nine tails. The proof of her blood is undeniable! Are you going to deny what is before our very eyes?” Lyra, stunned at this departure from the script, added her own poison. “Mother, if you claim Eloise is your daughter, then where is her tail? Where is her proof of the sacred blood?” The court echoed her sentiment. “If she is the princess, let her reveal her Vulpine form and prove it!” But the Queen, who should have been raining fury upon me, now looked ill, her face pale. She moved to shield me with her own body. “I am the Matriarch of the Celestials. The matter of the divine bloodline is mine to decide! All of you, leave this place!” Under the weight of her absolute authority, the nobles hesitated, some already beginning to retreat. But at that moment, a splash of liquid, cold and shimmering, hit me. I spun around to see Kaelen, an empty flask in his hand, his face a mask of cold indifference. “The Waters of Revealing will show one’s true form. We will see who my wife is, once and for all.” Kaelen. The greatest warrior of the Celestials, his Frostfang blade having defended our borders for millennia. At the foot of Mount Kunlun, he had taken my hand, his eyes full of wonder. “My sword will protect only one from this day forward. Where my wife’s gaze falls, there my blade will follow.” Only today did I understand. He was protecting his wife, yes. The Princess of the Celestials. Who that princess was… didn’t matter. Before I could even process the fresh wave of betrayal, a thick, coiling tail of obsidian scales burst from the base of my spine. A collective gasp of horror rippled through the court. 6 Scorn. Disgust. Mocking laughter. The thunder above me grew louder, a relentless, punishing barrage that showed no sign of stopping. In my last life, it was at this moment—gravely wounded by the heavenly trial—that my father had struck. He had used the Soul-Siphon while I was at my weakest, tearing my seventy thousand years of essence from my broken body. And just as before, a bolt of lightning struck me square on the crown of my head. Pain, absolute and blinding, threatened to tear me apart. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Lyra’s sharp cry. “This is no ordinary trial for godhood! The heavens have thirty-six realms, and each has its own thunder. She is enduring the Thirty-Six Storms of Ascension, a trial no one has ever survived!” The sky felt as though it were collapsing, the black clouds pressing down on the terrified Celestials. But the single violet spotlight around Lyra remained, a sanctuary in the maelstrom. “You see?” she shrieked, her voice triumphant. “She is a cursed thing, an abomination condemned by the heavens themselves! I am the one born of auspicious signs, the one with the true divine blessing!” Even Kaelen turned to Lyra, his eyes full of pity and dawning realization. “So it was you all along. You are my true wife. The threads of fate weave true, letting destined lovers finally be together.” My father seized his chance. With a cry of triumph, the King launched himself into the air, the Soul-Siphon in his hand aimed straight for me. “Jocasta, you see the proof!” he roared. “Today, I will make her repay every moment of suffering our true daughter endured!” A single, soul-shattering cry from the Queen: “NO!” It was too sudden. She was too far away to stop him. The Soul-Siphon was already at my brow. The King’s methods were as swift and merciless as I remembered.

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For every wedding anniversary, Caleb brought a woman home. His excuse? For me to “train” her. At our tenth anniversary dinner, he brought home a cocktail waitress from some downtown club, still squeezed into a tacky bunny costume. “She doesn’t have a gown. Give her your wedding dress,” he commanded, his voice casual, as if discussing the weather. “And that jewelry set I gave you last month. As for shoes… I think the ones you’re wearing will do just fine.” He leaned in, his breath hot and laced with expensive scotch. “And listen, she’s young, doesn’t know much. You’ll have to put in the effort to teach her. Especially… the things in bed.” The entire room held its breath, waiting for the inevitable drama, waiting to laugh at my expense. And, as always, I didn’t disappoint. I announced I was divorcing him. Caleb burst out laughing, a sound dripping with contempt. “Pamela, you say that every year. I’m so tired of hearing it. More tired of it than the noises you make in bed.” He smirked, raising his voice for the crowd. “If you actually have the guts to divorce me, I’ll give you a hundred million dollars.” The room erupted in another wave of laughter. The whispers were loud enough for me to hear—I was just playing hard to get, a pathetic woman who didn’t know her place. But they didn’t know. This was the hundredth time I’d said it, and it was the one and only time I meant it. Every eye in the room was on me. Even the little nightclub bunny was giggling behind her hand. “Alright, place your bets! I bet she won’t even make it to the door before she comes crawling back.” “A million says she stays!” “I’ll put thirty grand on that!” This little betting game was an anniversary tradition, as stale and rotten as our marriage. The ones who lost money on me hated me. The ones who won didn’t respect me either. I shook my head, a bitter smile on my lips, cursing myself for being so weak. It had taken me ten years to finally find the courage to leave. “I’ll bet she leaves.” A deep, unfamiliar voice cut through the noise. The crowd murmured, telling him not to throw his money away. I tried to find the source of the voice, but the figure was lost in the shadows. “Caleb,” I said, my voice steady, “I’ll have the divorce papers sent to your office. Make sure you sign them.” I had threatened divorce hundreds of times, but this was the first time I had ever mentioned the papers. Caleb straightened up, the ash from his cigarette falling onto the polished floor. I pretended not to see. I knelt, unfastened the straps of my heels, and placed them neatly at the young woman’s feet. Her name was Lexi. She was barely twenty, and painfully beautiful. “These will pinch a bit at first,” I said softly. “You’ll get used to them.” “The dress and jewelry Caleb mentioned… I’ll have Martha bring them to you.” “Before you, there were nine others. If there’s anything you don’t understand, you can ask them. They all live on the third floor. Your room is the last one on the right.” Ten years of marriage. Caleb had brought home enough women to start his own harem. Tall, short, curvy, thin, innocent, glamorous, cold, bubbly—he had collected them all. The rumor was he fancied himself a modern-day sultan, assembling his collection of concubines. Well, I was done being part of the collection. I brushed a speck of invisible dust from the shoe and stood. Barefoot, I turned and walked towards the grand entrance. I had almost reached it when a powerful hand grabbed my arm and yanked me back. “Pamela, if you’re leaving, you leave with nothing. Is there a single thing on your body that wasn’t bought with my money?” My bare feet felt like they were standing on shards of ice. My breath hitched. “You want me to strip?” Caleb raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over me, cold and clinical. “When your family went bankrupt, didn’t your mother strip you bare and shove you into my bed? How you came is how you’ll leave.” His voice dropped, laced with a cruel taunt. “Unless… you’ve changed your mind? Fine. Get on your knees and put her shoes on for her, and I’ll forgive you.” The crowd behind him howled with laughter. It was true. Shortly after Caleb and I had started dating, my family’s company had collapsed. My father, unable to face the ruin, jumped from his office window and was left in a persistent vegetative state. My mother, terrified the Vances would abandon us, drugged both me and Caleb, orchestrated a scandal, and forced his family to take responsibility. That night was the beginning of my humiliation. It was the end of the sweet, young love Caleb and I once shared. Forced to marry me, he brought another woman home on our wedding night to degrade me. He performed every imaginable act in front of me, even making me tear open the foil packet for him. I was the one who cleaned up the mess afterwards, on my hands and knees. I had lived a life of groveling servitude for ten years. I couldn’t do it anymore. “Fine. I’ll take it off.” Before anyone could react, I had unfastened my shawl. It was the dead of winter, but the hall was warm. The doorway, however, was a gateway to the biting wind. It whipped around my legs, raising goosebumps on my bare arms and shoulders. I reached behind my back and undid the clasp of my gown. The delicate fabric slithered down, exposing the curve of my shoulder and the swell of my breast. “Oh my God!” someone gasped. A few of the more timid women covered their eyes. The men, however, watched with rapt attention. Only Caleb’s eyes darkened to an inky black, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line. The only sign of his agitation was the slight tremor in the hand that held his cigarette. The dress pooled at my feet, leaving me nearly naked before them all. The cigarette in Caleb’s hand burned down to his fingertips. He dropped it, shucked off his suit jacket in one fluid motion, and threw it over me. “Pamela, you’ve got a death wish!” he snarled. He spun on the crowd. “All of you, close your eyes! If I hear one word about what you saw here tonight, you won’t live to see tomorrow’s sunrise! Now get out! All of you, GET OUT!” Caleb rarely lost his temper like this, especially not in public. The guests, all longtime acquaintances, knew better than to linger. They scurried out, and even the nine “concubines” quietly retreated upstairs. Only Lexi remained, frozen in place. “Are you satisfied now, Caleb?” I asked, tilting my head back to look at him, my gaze defiant. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I had cried too many tears for him. I wouldn’t shed another. “Can I go now?” “Don’t you dare pull these pathetic little tricks on me, Pamela,” he hissed, his disbelief still palpable. “It’s disgusting. Don’t you dare bring shame upon the Vance name.” I took a deep breath. “Caleb. This time, I really mean it. I want a divorce.” He looked at me as if I’d just told the world’s most hilarious joke. He grabbed the back of my neck, forcing my head down. “You dare divorce me? Can you afford your father’s hospital bills? Can you pay for your mother’s daily shopping sprees?” His voice was venomous. “Pamela, the first person to get on her knees and beg me not to divorce you will be your own mother.” His hatred for me and my mother was a raw, open wound. He hated her for the drugs, and he hated me for my inaction. “Even if your mother hadn’t drugged us, I would have married you! I would have helped you! But you had to use the one method I despise most!” he spat. “You, Pamela! You’re the one who destroyed what we had!” I had explained it a thousand times, but he would never believe me. Seeing my silence, his frown deepened. He dragged me over to Lexi, forced me to my knees, and pushed my head down. “Put her shoes on. You’ve been doing this for ten years. You should be an expert by now.” For a decade, I had not only cared for Caleb but also waited on his nine mistresses. I had done things—forced and voluntary—that made me despise myself. But now, all I wanted was for it to end. So, once again, I obeyed. I put the shoes on the girl’s feet. Perhaps my compliance bored him. With a grunt of frustration, he hauled me to his bedroom and, in front of me, began to undress Lexi. I had seen this scene countless times. Sometimes, he even made me participate, to “instruct” them. Just as I had done so many times before, I tore open a condom wrapper and held it out. This time, he shoved my hand away. “Not needed tonight.”

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The third time Professor Vance ignored my question, a line of text materialized in front of my eyes. One comment, glowing crimson, stood out from the rest. It was in that moment that I understood. I was the designated “evil rival” of this world, a character who didn’t even have the right to ask the male lead a question. Once I learned the truth, I promptly transferred to a different class with a different teacher. Later, when I won the grand championship in the National Mech-Crafting Competition and became the newest Gold-Tier Artisan, Kaelen Vance appeared on stage with a bouquet of flowers, his eyes filled with a soft light. “Aria,” he said, “if you ever have any professional questions, feel free to discuss them with me anytime.” I offered him a distant smile. “My master is more than capable of answering any questions I might have, but thank you for the offer. You should probably use that time to comfort your dear Chloe. She looks like she’s about to cry.” It seems that without the evil rival to drive the plot, the main characters’ halos just don’t shine as brightly, do they? 1 “Professor, I have a question. Why does this component assembly keep coming loose after I put it together?” It was the Q&A portion of Mech-Crafting, Section 7. I was the first to raise my hand, eager to ask Professor Kaelen Vance my question. He gave me a cursory glance before his eyes slid away, landing on Chloe, the girl in the row ahead of me who was currently dozing off. The moment his gaze touched her, his expression softened. He tapped her desk, his stern voice laced with an undercurrent of indulgence. “Chloe, do you have any questions?” I blinked, raising my hand a little higher. “Professor, I have a ques—” My words were cut short by a soft groan from Chloe. She stretched languidly, followed by a wide yawn, before asking in a daze, “What question? This component is so simple. Don’t you know how to do it, Professor?” A wave of laughter rippled through the classroom. Kaelen sighed, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “Go back to sleep.” “If there are no other questions,” he announced, “that’s all for today. Go to the materials lab and pick up one set of Kit #5 and one of Kit #6. Assemble them at home. I’ll be checking them tomorrow.” I shot to my feet. “Professor, I have a question—” It was as if he hadn’t heard me. He glanced at Chloe, who was already slumped back over her desk, blowing little spit bubbles in her sleep, and then turned and walked out of the classroom. I sank back into my seat, a mixture of humiliation, frustration, and wounded pride churning in my stomach. Why did he always ignore me? Why did he pretend not to hear me every single time I tried to ask him something? If he treated everyone this way, I wouldn’t be so upset. But it was so blatantly obvious that he favored Chloe. If she had a question, he would answer it with infinite patience. If she didn’t, he would still proactively ask if she understood the material. We were all his students. Why the differential treatment? It made me burn with jealousy, and I couldn’t help but resent her for it. Just as my glare was about to bore a hole through her back, several lines of text floated into view before my eyes. 2 I stared at the text, stunned. Male lead? Are they talking about Kaelen? My name is Aria. Since when was I a “goddamn snake”? And what budding romance? They’d only known each other for a week. Another comment, this one a conspicuous red, scrolled past, perfectly articulating my own thoughts. Exactly! That’s exactly right! If you’re going to be a teacher, you should treat all your students equally. Why should Chloe get special treatment? The floating lines of text provided the answer. Apparently, we were living in a novel, and I was the story’s designated “evil rival.” I was in love with Kaelen, and because I couldn’t stand his affection for Chloe, I constantly targeted her. According to the comments, I was about to steal Chloe’s materials to prevent her from finishing the assignment. But in a twist of fate, she would use the incomplete kit to create an even more powerful component, not only breaking the existing performance record for that part but also catching the eye of a legendary Master Artisan who would take her on as his final apprentice. Meanwhile, the component I was supposed to have stayed up all night perfecting wouldn’t even be deemed worthy of testing before being tossed into the recycling bin. By now, we had all collected our materials. Students who weren’t eating at the school cafeteria were free to go home. Chloe casually tossed her kit onto her desk, patted her stomach, and smacked her lips a few times before nudging her deskmate. “Nyx, wanna grab lunch at the cafeteria?” Her deskmate, Nyx, was a cool, aloof girl who preferred to be alone. I had tried to be friendly with her a few times before, but she’d been completely unresponsive. Yet, after knowing Chloe for less than a week, she was like a different person. Her icy gaze melted instantly. Though her expression remained neutral, her tone was soft. “Yeah.” The comments started scrolling again. I was, in fact, having a bit of a meltdown. I came from a wealthy family, raised as the apple of my parents’ eye. I had everything I could ever want. Because of my status, I was always surrounded by “friends.” I couldn’t say how many of them were genuine, but they all fell over themselves to please me. I had never been the one to initiate friendship. Except with Kaelen and Nyx. And, of course, they were the only two who treated me with disdain, while both giving Chloe their special attention. How could I not be furious? Watching them walk out, I grit my teeth and shot a look at Chloe’s materials on her desk. Just as they reached the door, Nyx paused. “You’re just going to leave your kit on the desk like that? Is that safe?” Chloe stuck out her tongue. “What could happen? Come on, let’s go, I’m starving.” The comments were a flurry of warnings. Steal it? My pride would never allow me to stoop so low. So I just gave the kit one last glance, then turned and left the classroom. I’d like to see how someone who slept through the entire class could possibly do a hundred times better than me. 3 “You see this part here? It’s a sliding component. You have to push this in first, then lock the piece below it into place. That should do it.” Professor Finch, the instructor for Section 1 of Mech-Crafting, patiently answered my question. It clicked instantly. I reassembled the part according to his instructions, and it worked perfectly. “Thank you, Professor Finch!” I beamed. He waved a hand dismissively. “A lot of people miss that little detail and fail the assembly. The fact that you noticed it on your first try is already very impressive.” I lifted my chin proudly. I was, after all, the top-ranked student in the Mech-Crafting department. That wasn’t just an empty title. Although, according to the comments, I wouldn’t be number one for long. My grades were apparently about to plummet… because after Chloe became a Master’s apprentice, I was supposed to become so consumed with jealousy that I’d spend all my time trying to sabotage her instead of improving my own skills. As if, I thought. I wasn’t stupid enough to waste my time trying to frame her. Getting obsessed with a man with questionable professional ethics and targeting a talented female peer over him? Was I insane? Speaking of which, how did she create a component with better performance? Could it be that the assembly didn’t actually require all these parts? With that question in mind, I started disassembling the component I had just put together. Professor Finch looked puzzled. “That was a solid assembly. It would have definitely tested above 90% performance. Why are you taking it apart?” Mechs were graded on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being the lowest. Each grade was further divided into low, mid, and high tiers. The same went for their components. A component needed to test at over 80% performance to be usable. Below 85% was low-grade, 85% to 90% was mid-grade, and above 90% was high-grade. The Kit #6 we received today was for a Tier-2 component. The current market record for its performance was 96.8%. But the version Chloe was supposed to create would reach a staggering 98.91%. I don’t deny that geniuses exist. But I was considered a genius too. If she could do it, so could I. I pressed my lips together. “I want to see if I can make it even better.” A look of admiration crossed Professor Finch’s face. “I like your spirit. That’s excellent.” Then, his tone grew a little wistful. “Why did you have to transfer to Section 7? With your grades, Section 1 is a much better fit for you.” I was originally a student in Section 1. The only reason I transferred was because of Kaelen Vance. Three years ago, my parents and I were on vacation when our ship was hijacked by interstellar pirates. It was Kaelen, a mech pilot at the time, who led the team that rescued us. He was everything I’d ever imagined a hero to be. I idolized him. As I got older, that idolization blossomed into a crush. When school started a week ago, I learned that he had taken a teaching position in Section 7. I immediately applied for a transfer, just to be closer to him. It had only been a week, and the rose-tinted glasses didn’t just crack; they shattered. “You’re right, Professor Finch,” I said. “Section 1 is a better fit. Can I… can I apply to transfer back?” 4 Professor Finch’s eyes lit up. He immediately pulled open a drawer and started rummaging for an application form. “Of course, you can! Anytime! You just keep working on your component. I’ll fill out the paperwork for you!” Watching him furiously scribbling away, I couldn’t help but smile. Whatever those comments said, I had no intention of playing a supporting role in someone else’s story. I didn’t care how their plot unfolded. My goal had always been the same: to become a Gold-Tier Artisan. … I didn’t sleep at all that night. I assembled and disassembled the two kits over and over, my hands blistering, until I finally discovered a new method. As dawn broke, I headed to the academy with dark circles under my eyes, carrying my newly assembled components to find Professor Finch for testing. When he saw the pile of unused parts I had left over, his jaw nearly hit the floor. He immediately took me to the testing lab and placed my component in the analysis chamber. Three seconds later, a set of numbers lit up the display… 5 “Who took Chloe’s materials? If you come forward now, I’ll overlook it. But if I have to find out who it was…” I was five minutes late for class. As I reached the door, I heard Kaelen’s cold, stern voice. “Then I can assure you, this academy will not tolerate a student with such poor moral character.” What was going on? Chloe’s materials were missing after all? I scanned the room. Chloe looked completely unbothered. Nyx was her usual stoic self. The other students just looked confused. The comments were scrolling by in a frenzy. I rolled my eyes. I didn’t steal anything. Why would I delete the footage? “Professor,” I called out from the doorway. Kaelen narrowed his eyes at me, not inviting me in. “Chloe’s materials are missing. Did you know about this?” I nodded. “I do now. You just said so.” He let out a knowing “Oh.” His tone was infuriating. “And what are your thoughts on the matter?” His expression, his tone… it was a clear accusation. “They’re missing, so you find them. What other thoughts could I have? If you don’t know how to do that, Professor, I can help you pull the security footage.” My defiant attitude seemed to take him by surprise. He frowned. “Whoever was bold enough to steal them wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave the security footage behind.” “Speaking of which,” he added, his eyes fixed on me, “why are you so late today? What were you doing?” He might as well have just announced to the whole class that I was late because I was busy tampering with the evidence. Sure enough, his words made every student in the room turn to look at me with suspicion. The scrolling comments were just as annoying. I ignored him, walked straight into the classroom, and went to my seat. “What I do is my own business. I don’t need to report to you.” “And another thing,” I added, “even if the footage was deleted, I can recover it. Just because you can’t do something, Professor Vance, doesn’t mean I can’t. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to get ‘your Chloe’ the justice she deserves.” Then, right in front of everyone, I made a call. “Dad, a student in my class had something stolen. Could you have someone pull the security footage for me?” After I hung up, Chloe turned to look at me, a dismissive expression on her face. “Aria, you don’t have to go to all that trouble. The materials are gone, so be it. I’ll just get another set and redo the assignment. I just hope the professor can give me a little more time.” So this time, she had lost all her materials. She clasped her hands together, batted her eyelashes playfully at Kaelen, and pouted. “Please?” Kaelen chuckled. “You. You just don’t care about anything, do you? But this is more serious than just a missing kit.” I cut him off. “The components we build are all sent for official collection. We can’t be even one set short.” The materials we used were supplied directly by a mech factory, and our finished components were sent straight to that same factory for use. “At its simplest, this is about missing materials. But on a larger scale, this affects the academy’s partnership and trust with the factory. This matter must be thoroughly investigated!” There was another reason I wanted a full investigation. My father was on the academy’s board of directors, and the factory we partnered with was owned by my mother. What was stolen was, essentially, my family’s property. Of course I was going to find it. I was going to slap the truth in the faces of every single person who had doubted me. With a direct order from a board member, it took less than half an hour for the Dean of Students to arrive at Section 7 with security and the surveillance footage. Halfway through the video, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Chloe, is this what you call ‘missing’?” The security footage was crystal clear. After lunch, she had returned to the classroom, picked up her kit, and left with it. She still had it when she walked out of the academy gates. The Dean, being the resourceful man he was, had even managed to obtain footage from outside the campus. It showed Chloe boarding a maglev train and traveling to a mech parts factory where she worked part-time. At the factory entrance, she ran into a gray-haired man who was wiping tears from his eyes. He was a worker there who had lost a component kit he’d taken home to assemble. Mech materials were expensive, and he was terrified of having to pay for it and losing his job. When Chloe learned he had lost a Kit #6, her kind heart took over, and she gave him her own. With the truth revealed, Chloe hung her head in embarrassment. After a moment, she looked up, a strained smile on her face. “If I miss one assignment, the worst that happens is I get a bad grade. But that man is the sole provider for his entire family. If he lost his job, how would they survive?” “I admit I shouldn’t have given away the materials,” she said, tears starting to well in her eyes, “but when I saw how desperate he was, I just couldn’t bear it…” I snorted. “I have no problem with you doing a good deed. But you shouldn’t do it with things that don’t belong to you, and you certainly shouldn’t lie about it being stolen. If we didn’t have this video, your lie would have branded every single person in this class as a potential thief.” “You couldn’t bear to see that man get fired, but you could bear to see us carry the weight of a crime we didn’t commit?” Chloe sobbed her apologies. “It was my fault. I have no excuse. I’ll pay for the materials myself, as compensation to the academy.” I scoffed. “You should pay for it. It was…” Kaelen cut me off, his voice cold. “Chloe was just being kind. Is it a crime to do a good deed now? That’s enough, Aria. Stop wasting everyone’s time.” His words made me laugh out loud. “The ones wasting everyone’s time are you and Chloe, aren’t they? One of you lies about being robbed, and the other suspends class to play detective for her. And now you’re trying to pin the blame on me? Professor Vance, try not to be such a hypocrite.” My retort left him with a thunderous expression and her with a pale, stricken face. Whatever lingering admiration I had for him was now completely gone. I had planned to stay for the rest of the class, but now I couldn’t stand to be in the room for another second. I gathered my things and headed for the door. “Class is in session! Where do you think you’re going?” Kaelen demanded. 6 I turned to face him, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I can’t afford to take your class, Professor. You should focus on teaching ‘your Chloe.’” His face darkened. “Do you think this class is a place you can just come and go as you please? Do you think your family owns this academy?” I rolled my eyes. “As a matter of fact, yes. They do.” He froze, about to say something else, but I had already turned and walked out. Whatever saccharine, exclusive love story they wanted to play out, I wanted no part of it. I had better things to do than waste my time on petty jealousy. Like assembling more components. Back in Section 1, I noticed that once I was away from the main characters, the floating comments disappeared. My life returned to its normal trajectory. And, because I hadn’t stolen Chloe’s materials, the plot had changed. She hadn’t been able to create that record-breaking component with a performance of 98.92%. But I had. My Kit #5 component tested at 99.36%, and my Kit #6 at 98.98%—both higher than her original record. I had thought that when these results were announced, the Gold-Tier Artisan, Master Valerius, might take me on as his apprentice, just as he was supposed to have done with Chloe. I was wrong. He never appeared, just as the original plot dictated. Without any interaction with the main characters, the comments remained gone. The days flew by in a blur of assembling and disassembling parts, and soon, it was time for the first-year final exams. The exam was designed by Master Valerius himself, and according to inside sources, he planned to choose one first-year student to be his final apprentice. I wanted to be that apprentice. So I practiced relentlessly, barely eating or sleeping, hoping he would notice me. What I didn’t know then was that some roles exist solely for the main character. No matter how hard a supporting character tries, it’s useless. The exam was scheduled for the afternoon. I couldn’t be bothered to go home for lunch, so I went to the cafeteria with a classmate. The moment I walked in, I saw Chloe. She was sitting with Nyx, her hair in a high ponytail, her face flushed with a healthy glow. The floating comments told me that she and Kaelen, through a series of entanglements, were now living together. They were in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, though they had to pretend to be just a normal teacher and student at the academy. I looked at the pink, bubbly blessings and envious comments on the feed and felt nothing. She saw me too and quickly looked away, offering Nyx a wry smile. “The difference between the rich and the poor really is huge. What they spend on one meal on the second floor is my entire month’s salary. There are less than thirty steps between the first and second floors, but the difference in status is a world apart.” “I’m glad I have you with me,” she added. “Otherwise, as the only poor person in this academy, I’d be all alone.” Nyx comforted her. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re much more capable than them. They all rely on their parents and families. You’re the only one who earns everything with your own two hands. In that respect, you’re stronger than any of them.” My classmate heard this and was about to explode. “Who do you think you’re—” I quickly grabbed her arm. “She’s not wrong. We’re not adults yet. Isn’t it normal to rely on our parents?” My classmate blinked, her mouth twitching. “Well… I guess so.” I pulled her toward the stairs. “So what’s there to be angry about? Let’s go eat. We have an exam this afternoon.” The old me would have blown up at those words. But the comments had told me what was supposed to happen. We were supposed to get into an argument, and because my group was larger, we would bully them mercilessly, even forcing them to eat food mixed with garbage. Kaelen would then swoop in and rescue them. Afterward, Chloe would tearfully challenge me in the middle of the cafeteria, declaring that if she beat me in the exam, I would have to publicly apologize. If she lost, she would drop out of the academy. Her courage, her defiance in the face of power, would make Kaelen fall for her even harder. It would also attract the attention of the story’s secondary male lead—my older brother, Adrian. And all of this would be witnessed by Master Valerius and the other masters from the second-floor dining area. Before the exam even began, my friends and I would already be disqualified in their eyes. Chloe, on the other hand, would earn their admiration. So I stopped my friend. I wasn’t about to engage in a self-destructive battle. What I didn’t expect was that even though I did nothing, Chloe still challenged me.

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1 My wife, Sarah, had a congenital heart defect. And she wanted to have a baby for her first love, Ryan. I refused, without a second thought. Ten months later, Ryan’s mother passed away. They said she died with her eyes wide open, heartbroken that she’d never held a grandchild. Crushed by guilt, Ryan killed himself in his cramped rental apartment. And then Sarah, on a family road trip she’d insisted we take, floored the accelerator and swerved our car directly into the path of a semi-truck. “You killed him!” she shrieked, her voice a terrifying mix of glee and madness in the final moments. “If you had just let me give him a child, he wouldn’t be dead!” “His family is gone,” she screamed over the blare of the horn, “so yours doesn’t deserve to live either!” And then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day she first asked. This time, I smiled. “Sarah, darling, of course. We’ll all support you.” … “Eric, I need to have a baby for Ryan.” The first thing I heard when my eyes snapped open was her voice, the same words that had started the nightmare. She launched into her practiced speech. “Ryan’s mother was my mentor, you know? She’s terminally ill, the doctors say she has less than a year. Her only wish is to hold a grandchild before she goes. Ryan doesn’t know who else to ask, so…” “Say no more, Sarah. I agree.” I reached out, my hand closing over hers with a sincerity that was pure performance. Sarah froze, her face a mask of disbelief. “Eric, did you… did you hear what I just said?” “I heard you.” My voice was a soft, understanding caress. “I know how much Ryan’s mother means to you. If it weren’t for her, you never would have come to this city for college, and we never would have met. In a way, she’s our benefactor.” My earnestness seemed to disarm her. The wariness in her eyes softened. “I’m so glad you see it that way. And don’t worry, Ryan and I already talked it through. We’ll use IVF, so there won’t be… you know. We would never betray you. But, for it to work legally, I’ll need to divorce you first and marry him. The baby needs to be on his birth certificate, legally part of his family.” She watched my face like a hawk as she spoke, waiting for the explosion. But it never came. Even the mention of divorce didn’t faze me. I just nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. I’ll have my lawyer draw up the papers. The legal process takes some time, though. Given the urgency with his mother, you and Ryan should probably get started on the… preparations… today.” My calm acceptance was finally too much for her. A flicker of suspicion returned to her eyes. “Eric, don’t you mind? Not even a little?” Mind? Of course, I minded. I couldn’t imagine a single man on earth who wouldn’t mind his wife having a baby for another man. Especially with Sarah’s heart condition. It was the entire reason I’d gotten a vasectomy the day after our wedding—to prevent any accidents that could put her life at risk. Last time, her request had sent me into a rage. I had vehemently refused, calling it insane, and even told her parents, hoping they would talk sense into her. Under pressure from everyone, Sarah had relented. But ten months later, Ryan’s mother died, whispering about the shame of facing her ancestors without a grandchild, her eyes refusing to close even in death. She was Ryan’s last living relative. A few days after the funeral, he hanged himself in his apartment. Before he did, he sent Sarah a long, rambling email. The gist of it was that while other women could have borne his child, he only ever wanted one with her. If she had given him a child, his mother wouldn’t have died in such sorrow. He would have still had a family in this world. Reading that email, learning of Ryan’s death, shattered her. She blamed me. She twisted reality until I became the villain who had murdered them both. She suggested a road trip to “clear our heads.” My parents came along. On the highway, she hit the gas, her face lit with a horrifying, ecstatic grin as she aimed us at the grille of a truck. “If you hadn’t stopped me, Eric, Ryan and I would have a child! He wouldn’t be dead! You killed him!” “He lost his whole family, so now you and yours get to die too!” My parents and I never had a chance. We were crushed under the wheels. The memory was a phantom ache, sharp and familiar, piercing my chest. But the smile on my face never wavered. I pulled Sarah into my arms, crushing her against me in a display of profound affection. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you,” I murmured into her hair. “If I’m worried about anything, it’s your health. You have to promise me you’ll take care of yourself through all this. Promise me.” 2 The next morning, Ryan was at our door to take Sarah for a “check-up.” They stood in front of me, holding hands, not a shred of shame between them as they walked to his car. Seeing them together, the sheer, laughable idiocy of my past self hit me like a physical blow. Sarah had been tutored by Ryan’s mother in high school. Naturally, she and Ryan had started dating, a romance that lasted all the way through college. But when it came time to discuss marriage, Sarah’s mother found out Ryan came from a single-parent home, with no car and no apartment in the city, and she forcibly broke them up. Shortly after, I met Sarah. I was instantly smitten. I pursued her for six months before she finally agreed to let me meet her parents. My family’s wealth was more than enough to satisfy her mother, who practically pushed us down the aisle. In my last life, I truly believed they had lost touch. I thought Sarah had only heard about his mother’s illness through an old alumni group chat. It wasn’t until I found gigabytes of chat logs on her phone that I saw the truth: they had never stopped talking. He sent her “good morning” and “good night” texts every single day. Their conversations had long ago crossed the line from friendship into something else entirely. After their car pulled away, I called my lawyer and told him to start drafting the divorce agreement. The call had barely ended when a flashy sports car screeched to a halt in my driveway. Leo, Sarah’s younger brother. He was a real piece of work, a spoiled brat who knew how to cause trouble. In the five years Sarah and I were married, she funneled him money from our accounts every year. The kid burned through tens of thousands of dollars annually. In my past life, I was so blindly in love with Sarah that I let her convince me her family was my family. A little money was nothing, I could always earn more. And so Leo had gotten used to hitting me up for cash under any and every pretext. If I remembered correctly, he was here today about an investment. He and a friend wanted to open some small factory and needed seed money. I’d seen the proposal last time—it was a joke. It promised quick, small returns upfront, but the business model was a minefield of hidden costs and liabilities that would lead to bankruptcy. Last time, I shut it down. This time, I looked over the file and told him, “This is a solid bet, Leo. Looks promising.” His eyes lit up. “So, you’ll spot me fifty grand, brother-in-law? We’ll split the profits seventy-thirty, your favor.” I closed the folder with a sigh of feigned regret. “Leo, my hands are tied. I just sank all my liquid cash into a new equipment order. But this is a golden opportunity. Don’t you still have that apartment I got you? Sell it. Use that cash to get in on the ground floor. Once my funds free up next month, I’ll buy you an even nicer place.” I’d always been good to him, so he didn’t question a word. All his money, including the deed to that apartment, had come from me. Lured by my promise, he sold the apartment that very afternoon and poured every last cent into the doomed factory. I was deeply satisfied with this outcome. I knew I’d never get back the money I’d given him, but if I couldn’t have it, I sure as hell wasn’t letting the Sullivan family keep it. Shortly after Leo left, my private investigator called. He told me Sarah and Ryan never went to the hospital. I just said, “I know.” For the next few days, Ryan and Sarah left together every morning. I showed no signs of impatience. In fact, I’d often ask how the “process” was going, if everything was proceeding smoothly. Two weeks later, Sarah showed me a positive pregnancy test. “That’s wonderful news,” I said, my eyes fixed on the two pink lines. A strange feeling settled in my gut. I’d already done my research. A proper IVF cycle required at least two months of prep time, and even then, getting pregnant wasn’t guaranteed on the first try. She was pregnant in just two weeks. The method they had used was painfully obvious. Seeing that I suspected nothing, Sarah let out a visible sigh of relief. And then, she finally remembered her own health. “Eric, you know about my heart,” she began, her tone shifting to one of delicate fragility. “Now that I’m pregnant, I think I should rest at home. And… Ryan’s mother is getting worse. She wants to see him get married, to see him happy. I want to give her that. Is that okay?” I nodded. “Of course.” “Oh, you’re the best, Eric.” She hugged me. “It’s just… a wedding costs money. And you know Ryan’s situation… I was thinking, maybe we could cover the cost?” 3 I couldn’t believe the audacity. It was one thing to cheat on me, to carry another man’s child. But to ask me to pay for their wedding? She had to be playing me for the world’s biggest fool. A cold, bitter laugh coiled in my gut, but my face only showed distress. “That’s a reasonable request, Sarah, but the timing is terrible. The company is in a tight spot right now, all our capital is tied up, and the board is watching every penny. And now that you’re pregnant, you’re my priority. Your heart, Sarah… I’ve been so worried. I already hired a private medical team to be on call for you 24/7. I just can’t move any more funds.” The thought of no wedding soured her expression. “Then what are we supposed to do? Ryan really doesn’t have the money for a wedding.” “Why doesn’t he borrow it for now?” I suggested, ever the problem-solver. “When our divorce goes through, I’ll be extra generous in the settlement. The board won’t question that. You can use that money to pay everyone back.” Sarah considered it for a moment, and to my dark amusement, she agreed. Ryan borrowed the money, and they quickly threw together a wedding. Fearing her parents would find out, Sarah only invited Ryan’s relatives and friends, keeping her side of the guest list completely empty. The wedding was that morning. By the afternoon, the videographer had sent the full wedding video to my inbox. I had, in fact, spent a fortune on a top-tier medical team to look after Sarah. They monitored her daily, ensuring she ate only the best, most nutritious food. Expensive prenatal vitamins and supplements were part of her daily regimen. I doted on the child in her womb as if it were my own. Sarah, of course, didn’t stay cooped up at home. Whenever she had a spare moment, she was at the hospital with Ryan. I turned a blind eye to all of it. Thanks to my meticulous “care,” the baby in her womb grew larger and healthier than average. An unborn child is, in a way, a parasite. The healthier the child, the greater the strain on the mother. For a normal woman, this is manageable. For Sarah, with her defective heart, it was a ticking time bomb. By the fifth month, her heart was already struggling to keep up. Some of her vitals were dipping into dangerous territory. But with the elite medical team there to immediately treat any discomfort, to soothe every flutter and ache, she had no idea how precarious her situation was becoming. Meanwhile, there was a positive development for Ryan’s mother. They had found a potential kidney donor. All they had to do was wait for the donor to pass, and she could have the transplant. The surgery, however, required a substantial sum of money. Sarah came to me. I gave her the same excuse about the company’s finances. So Ryan went to loan sharks. He figured that once I divorced Sarah, her massive settlement would be more than enough to cover the debt. The moment the doctors told me the fetus was past four months—a point where either carrying it to term or aborting it would pose a life-threatening risk to Sarah—a profound sense of relief washed over me. The net had been cast for a long time. It was time to settle the accounts. I called Sarah. “Sarah, let’s sign the divorce papers. Otherwise, you won’t be able to get a birth certificate for your and Ryan’s child.” After hearing this, Sarah and Ryan rushed over, practically vibrating with eagerness. She’d been nagging me about the divorce for weeks, and I’d kept putting it off. The meeting was in my office. My lawyer was present. Before signing, Sarah’s eyes scanned the document, going straight to the asset division clause. When she saw the line stating she would be leaving the marriage with nothing, her composure shattered. She stabbed a finger at the page. “What is this? When we divorce, assets are supposed to be split fifty-fifty. Why am I getting nothing?” I spread my hands wide. “It’s a sham divorce, remember? Just a formality. What does the asset split matter? Unless… you were planning on taking my money and running?” My words hit their mark. A blush crept up her neck. She shot a nervous glance at Ryan, then hardened her resolve. “It’s better to have everything clearly defined. Just in case… something unexpected happens.” Unexpected happens. Right. As if I didn’t know they’d rekindled their old flame and were planning to run off with half my fortune to live happily ever after. “Fine. Let’s get clear,” I said, pulling a stack of glossy photos from a file. “You committed adultery during our marriage. Therefore, you leave with nothing. Any objections?”

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The day I went on a blind date, my ex-boyfriend and I ended up getting hitched. What I didn’t expect was his real identity… 1 “Married? Ethan, what kind of joke is this!” “I’m not joking.” Ethan looked up, his tone so calm you’d think he was just offering me a coffee. “Marry me. That’s my proposal.” I watched his handsome lips move, and damn it, I actually felt a flicker of temptation. Showing up for a blind date only to find your ex from years ago is crazy enough. But having that ex suddenly suggest a flash marriage? That’s like crazy inviting crazy’s mom over for Thanksgiving dinner! “What?” Ethan’s tone shifted, a hint of sarcasm creeping in. “Right. Maybe Ms. Miller thinks she’s too good for me. After all, I’m broke.” He really emphasized that last word, “broke.” It hit me then. The reason I gave him when we broke up all those years ago? That he was broke. Ouch… shade. He was definitely throwing shade at me. That jab got under my skin. In a moment of heat, I said yes. And he didn’t give me a second to reconsider. That same day, we went back to our respective places, grabbed the necessary documents, and headed straight to City Hall. Half an hour waiting in line, three minutes for the paperwork. Staring at the still-warm marriage certificate, I smugly sent a picture to my mom. I couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Her daughter, impulsively married. To her ex, no less. Mom was weird, though. She’d disapproved of Ethan back then, but seeing the marriage certificate now, she was over the moon. Like she was just grateful someone finally took her daughter off her hands. So, round and round we went, and somehow, Ethan and I ended up ‘together’ again. We became one of those legendary couples who split everything fifty-fifty. 2 Life after getting married didn’t seem much different than before. We each had our own room. He worked during the day, coming home late at night. We barely saw each other. I found out later that Ethan was now a surgeon. His job was demanding, keeping him busy constantly. Even that blind date, he’d apparently squeezed it in between shifts just to appease someone. He probably never expected the blind date would be me, either. These days, I’m a freelance writer, mostly churning out relationship drama for online platforms. Knowing how precise and focused a surgeon needs to be, I subconsciously tried to keep my late-night typing quieter. Not that Ethan would probably even hear it. Today was Thursday. I’d been writing until the wee hours, so I didn’t crawl out of bed until noon. Stepping out of my room, I ran right into Ethan, who clearly hadn’t gone to work. He was sitting on the sofa, immaculately dressed. A stark contrast to me, freshly woken, hair sticking out in every direction. My mouth opened, and I managed a dry, “Dr. Ross? No work today?” “Day off.” And then… silence. Awkward, heavy silence. Ethan seemed to sense me staring. His gaze lifted from his book and landed on me. Oh, kill me now! I bolted for the bathroom. Maybe I imagined it, but I could have sworn I heard a low chuckle behind me. He was laughing at me! Later, for reasons unknown, Ethan decided he had to come with me when I needed to buy some clothes. A free driver? Sure, why not. But I seriously suspected he just wanted to show off that Mercedes he’d bought. On loan, no doubt! As far as I knew, both his condo and his car were financed up to the eyeballs. After making payments, his surgeon’s salary probably left him with just a few thousand bucks for living expenses each month. That wasn’t much different from my situation. What was there to brag about? Unless… unless he was like some romance novel hero, a secret billionaire! (Yeah, right.) 3 Today, the little indie website I wrote for was having its annual gala, and my editor specifically requested I attend. This was pretty much my first time attending such an event after years grinding away in the web fiction world, so naturally, I wanted to look decent. At the mall, I headed straight for the department store’s clearance racks on the first floor, hoping to find a nice dress. Nothing too flashy, just understated and pretty. But Ethan insisted on dragging me up to the fifth floor, to the high-end designer boutiques. Standing in front of those clothes, my feet felt glued to the floor. The sales associate was super friendly at first, but when she realized I was just looking, not buying, her attitude did a complete 180. Her words dripped with condescending pity, suggesting the first-floor clearance section might be “more suitable,” while also subtly mocking my taste. Before I could even open my mouth, Ethan stepped forward, his expression dark. “Whether she can afford it or not is my call.” Damn! Hot! Okay, maybe it was just putting on a brave face, trying not to lose ground, but still! If the price tag was even remotely within my reach, I wouldn’t mind splurging a little. The associate was clearly intimidated by Ethan’s ‘aura.’ Thankfully, the store manager arrived just then, smoothing things over politely before leading me to a fitting room. When I stepped out, I felt like my whole presence just expanded. Damn, I looked good! Catching my reflection, I fought to keep the grin off my face. How could I be this gorgeous! But then… reality check. Seeing the manager chatting quietly with Ethan nearby, I casually asked, “How much is this dress?” The manager glanced at Ethan, then immediately smiled at me. “$150!” One fifty? If I remembered correctly, the boutiques on the fifth floor usually started at four figures, minimum. “We’re having a special promotion right now, ma’am! Perfect timing!” Never look a gift horse in the mouth! With a grand wave of my hand, I declared, “I’ll take it!” As I paid, I looked up and saw Ethan, hands shoved in his pockets, just watching me. His expression was… weird. 4 After buying the dress, it was almost time for the gala. Ethan and I went our separate ways. I called an Uber and headed straight to the hotel where the event was being held. On the way, I chatted in a group message with some other authors also attending. “Sarah, did you hear? The Rockwells are having an event at the same hotel!” “The Rockwells! Like, the richest family in the city!” I wasn’t particularly interested. “Richest family booked the same hotel as our little indie site? Wouldn’t they usually rent out the whole place?” I typed back. “You don’t get it. They’re being ‘low-key’.” I snorted. Yeah, real low-key, throwing a massive party. Just as my Uber pulled up, I saw a sleek Maybach parked nearby. A man in a perfectly tailored black suit stepped out, radiating an air of authority. I couldn’t see his face, but judging by the way a group of young women nearby suddenly lit up, he had to be seriously handsome. Then I remembered my current marital status… Ah well, better not stare. It wasn’t like anyone could compare to Ethan anyway. At least, Ethan’s face was flawless. Our website’s gala was in a smaller banquet hall, while the rumored Rockwell bash was in the grand ballroom upstairs. The authors hoping to catch a glimpse of the billionaire patriarch were visibly disappointed. I sat at my assigned table, listening to the writers around me whisper excitedly: “I hear the head of the family is gorgeous! Wish I could see him!” “All I know is the last name’s Rockwell, first name is supposedly…” 5 “…Something like Ethan!” “Nah, can’t find anything online. No pictures either!” “Too bad, missed my chance to become Mrs. Rockwell… haha, just kidding!” I half-listened to the fragmented gossip, not really getting it. Feeling bored, I propped my chin on my hand, watching our site’s owner, clearly tipsy, excitedly announce round after round of prize drawings. I muttered under my breath, “Did the boss mainline caffeine? Drawing prizes like this, won’t he wake up bankrupt tomorrow?” “You didn’t know?” Maya, the author next to me, leaned in conspiratorially. “Our revenue stream did really well this year. Apparently, some big investor pumped in a ton of cash. So the boss is happy. Let him draw, who cares? It all comes out of our royalties anyway!” Good point! I nodded in agreement. Big bosses, small bosses – all sharks. I seriously doubted there were any real big prizes waiting. Famous last words. No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than the spotlight suddenly swung… right onto me. I looked up, bewildered. “Number 66!” A wave of murmurs went through the room. I automatically fumbled for the numbered ticket they gave us at the door. The big, bold “66” practically blinded everyone nearby. “Congratulations to Number 66, winner of the $10,000 grand prize!” The host’s voice nearly cracked with excitement. A grand prize had literally fallen into my lap, leaving my head spinning. My legs were actually trembling as I walked up to the stage. Man, was this real? Felt like a dream. The prize was a prepaid card, supposedly loaded with the ten grand. Hope the boss wasn’t bluffing. Maya stared at me, eyes wide with excitement. As soon as I got back to the table, she grabbed my arm and wouldn’t let go. “Sarah! Remember me when you’re rich!” “Yeah, yeah, don’t forget me either!” “Okay, okay! I won’t, I won’t!” I sighed, amused. Back in my seat, I definitely felt more people looking my way. “By the way, Sarah, that dress is amazing! Where’d you get it?” Maya’s eyes were glued to my outfit. “You have no idea, when you were on stage just now, you were practically glowing!” I told her the truth. “Just got it at the mall, it was only $150. You’re exaggerating!” “$150? But it looks like it cost thousands.” “It was on sale, but seriously, not as expensive as you think.” No way was I buying that the manager sold me that dress at a loss! I glanced around. Yep, still getting stares. “I need some air, it’s stuffy in here.” Maya waved me off as I headed for the door. The small banquet hall was on the first floor; the Rockwell party was reportedly on the third. I was just wandering through the hotel lobby, trying to stretch my legs, when I looked up and saw a familiar face. Ethan. Standing on the third-floor balcony, looking down at me.

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When I started my freshman year, my new roommate, Riley, insisted her aunt had to come with her to college. Her aunt had to take her to class and pick her up. I tried to reason with her a few times: “We’re college students now, can’t you be a little more independent?” But Riley just scoffed, “You’re all just jealous I have someone to take care of me. If you’re so capable, go get someone to chaperone you too!” Later, one day when I came back to the dorm, I found her aunt had taken over my bed. All my personal belongings had been tossed into the bathroom. I clenched my fists. When I confronted her, she said dismissively, “Alright, alright, I’ll have my aunt give you five hundred bucks. You can move out.” Oh, okay, so that’s how we’re playing this, huh? Fine. I’ll make sure your aunt “takes care” of you, 360 degrees, no blind spots. 1 Freshman year had just begun. Lugging bags big and small, I pushed open the dorm room door to find someone had beaten me to it. After a bit of chatting, I warmly called her Riley, and she pulled a few oranges from her bag, offering them to me with a big smile. Her aunt, Carol, saw me and only complimented how “fresh” I looked, and even added me on Insta. As night fell, the other two roommates gradually arrived. Looking at the scene, it seemed everyone was planning to stay the night. But we all looked at each other, an awkwardness hanging in the air. Because Aunt Carol was currently lying on the top bunk, blatantly scrolling through TikToks with the sound on full blast. A few minutes later, I couldn’t take it anymore and politely asked, “Ma’am, it’s getting pretty late. Maybe you could get a hotel room for tonight?” “I know you must hate to leave Riley, but classes don’t start until the day after tomorrow. You can spend all day with her tomorrow, okay?” But she just said, “She’ll just sleep here for one night, she won’t bother you all! Don’t be so stingy!” Was this really about being stingy or not? My temper flared, and I almost blew up right then and there. My other roommates each grabbed one of my hands, coaxing me, “Lily, forget it, forget it. School hasn’t even started, we can’t make things awkward already.” After popping a few candies in my mouth, I started to feel a bit better. For a while after that, even though Riley’s aunt didn’t do anything, I always felt like there was a pair of eyes in the dorm constantly watching the three of us. It was a feeling that’s hard to describe in just a word or two. After we’d all pretty much finished our evening routines, Riley’s aunt suddenly announced she wanted to clean. She said she was a neat freak, and if the dorm was too dirty, she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Everyone tried to tell her the cleaning could wait until tomorrow. We’d all made long drives from out of state; everyone just wanted to wash up and sleep, then clean tomorrow. Aunt Carol’s face instantly darkened. “How can you young ladies not care about cleanliness? If I clean tonight, it’ll be easier for you all tomorrow. I’m doing this for your own good!” In the ensuing silence, someone muttered, “Psycho.” I just felt incredibly annoyed. It was already almost midnight, and everyone was about to fall asleep. If our room started making noises from scrubbing clothes or a washing machine spinning, we’d definitely have people knocking on our door. But before we could say anything, a few “little pearls”—tears—slid down Riley’s cheeks, making her look utterly pitiable. 2 “I know, my aunt and I are from the countryside, and I’m the only one in my family to go to college. I haven’t spent time with city folk like you. My aunt is just trying to do what’s best for me, what’s she done wrong!” All I wanted to say was, honey, your aunt hasn’t just done something wrong; she fundamentally doesn’t know how to act around people. Riley was still sobbing, the sound more grating than a whistling kettle. “You’re all just deliberately ganging up on me! Is there any justice in the world?!” With that, she violently swept everything off her desk onto the floor. The sharp clatter instantly echoed through the entire dorm. Sure enough, a little while later, students from downstairs knocked on our door. “What are you doing up at this hour instead of sleeping!” “Why is there a parent here? What’s wrong with you, staying in a student dorm!” They clamored, then called the RA for our dorm building. The RA was efficient. First, she “escorted” Riley’s aunt out of the dorm, then gave her the address of the nearest hotel. After all, tomorrow was the last day before classes officially started; it wasn’t worth making a fuss now. Riley held her aunt’s hand, tears seeming to well in her eyes. Right up until her aunt was escorted out of the dorm building, Riley was still trying to negotiate with the RA, asking if her aunt could just stay for one night. But the RA, seeing such a commotion, was definitely not going to agree to her request. Finally, the RA laid down the law: “If you two keep causing trouble here, I’ll report this to the university tomorrow.” Hearing this, Aunt Carol’s expression changed instantly, and only then did she leave resentfully. She was afraid Riley would face some punishment because of this, affecting her ability to study and graduate normally. That night, Riley buried her head under her covers, saying nothing. Not a single sound. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought she’d fainted from sadness. But my gut told me she was definitely not asleep. I opened my phone and went into our little three-person group chat. “Lily, what are we going to do? You think she’ll try to get back at us?” “Either explode in silence or perish in silence.” Leah was the first to speak. I replied, “So what? If she wants to explode, let her. We’re in the right. Worst case, we stand our ground!” 3 After classes officially started, Riley kept to herself, looking quite carefree. Her aunt somehow got hold of an electric scooter and would ferry her to the academic buildings every day. During Riley’s classes, the aunt would wait in a nearby empty classroom, sometimes even rummaging through recycling bins for empty bottles. When Riley’s class ended, she’d weave through the crowds out of the building, and upon reaching Riley, give her a fierce hug. All the students present would eye the two of them. But Riley seemed to enjoy it. Enjoyed the feeling of being the center of so much attention. Passersby would whisper: “Are those two okay? They’re treating going to and from class like it’s the SATs, getting so worked up seeing each other.” “The SATs just filter out people who aren’t as academically strong; they don’t filter out total babies.” Riley heard them but didn’t seem to care at all. She said to Aunt Carol: “Auntie, I don’t have any more classes. Let me take you to the dining hall for lunch.” With that, she hopped on her aunt’s scooter, and they sped off. Chloe and I exchanged a look; something felt off. I pulled out my phone to check the schedule. The next class was clearly Calc 101. How could she say she had no more classes? But time waits for no one, and we couldn’t dwell on it. After class, Chloe and I sprinted to the dining hall. Damn, it was more crowded than Black Friday. After getting our food, we finally found a table, only to see Riley and her aunt sitting at the next one. Her aunt was eating food bought with Riley’s meal card, praising it as she ate: “The food at this university is just delicious! Riley, you eat more too. Classes are so tiring.” Chloe muttered, “She’s only been in class for a few days, how tired can she be!” Not wanting to disturb our precious mealtime, we didn’t greet them, just turned away to focus on our food. But, as luck would have it, her sharp-eyed aunt spotted us. “Why are you so late! Any later and there’d be no food left.” We just exchanged a few pleasantries with her and didn’t continue the conversation. Chloe stared at her half-empty bowl, fiddling with her chopsticks dejectedly: “Lily, I didn’t understand a single thing in that Calc class. If you don’t help me, I’m definitely going to fail the final!” In the noisy environment of the dining hall, my conversation with Chloe was barely a whisper. But to someone who was listening intently, it was heard crystal clear. “Aren’t you all in the same class? Why are your schedules different?” Riley’s aunt scooted closer to our table. Hearing this, Riley’s chopsticks clattered to the floor. She then guiltily picked them up, her eyes darting towards us occasionally. Chloe was startled by her sudden movement and hesitated whether to speak. I nudged her under the table and said to Riley’s aunt: “We’re in the same class and the same dorm, so of course, our schedules are the same. The professor said this course is really important, and we absolutely can’t skip it. That’s why we’re so late to the dining hall.” I said it casually. Hearing this, Aunt Carol’s expression immediately soured. She snatched the chopsticks from Riley’s hand and slammed them on the ground: “Did you have a class just now? Why didn’t you go? You pretended you wanted to show me the university dining hall just to skip class, didn’t you!” “Your parents heartlessly abandoned you, and I raised you to this age, and now you dare to pull something like this?” After being yelled at in public, Riley’s ears turned beet red, but she mumbled: “It’s just one skipped class, what’s the big deal? I saw online that a college experience isn’t complete without skipping a class.” Smack! Another crisp sound. Everyone present gasped. A bright red handprint appeared on Riley’s face. “Still dare to talk back! It looks like I can’t leave your side for a second from now on. Who knows what you’ll do next.” Seeing the crowd вокруг, Riley wanted to cry but was too embarrassed to cry too loudly, so she just buried her face in the table and whimpered. My roommate and I took the chance to leave the dining hall. We’re all college students; it’s good enough if we can manage ourselves. But when I returned to the dorm that evening, I found someone on my bed. 4 At first, I thought an outsider had picked the lock to our dorm room, but when I looked closer, I realized it was Riley’s aunt lying there. Seeing me, Riley’s aunt slowly craned her neck from the bed: “Oh, Lily. I figured it would be more convenient to take care of Riley if I just stayed in the dorm.” It turned out Aunt Carol thought renting an apartment off-campus was too expensive, so staying in the dorm was better. “Riley said all this stuff of yours was old anyway, so I just tossed it in the bathroom. If you want to get it…” I clenched my fists, so angry I couldn’t speak. Seeming to notice my expression wasn’t right, she hesitated for a moment, then said: “Don’t worry, I’ll give you five hundred a month. You can rent any place you like.” Hilarious. What kind of decent place could you rent for five hundred? If it was so easy to rent off-campus, why didn’t she do it? Thinking this, I gritted my teeth but still managed to squeeze out an extremely ugly smile: “Riley is so lucky to have such a wonderful aunt like you! But five hundred isn’t enough to rent a safe place. I’m a girl living alone outside, with no one to accompany me…” At this point, I slowly lowered my head, my long hair falling, feigning a pitiful look. She fidgeted with her fingers, clearly unsure how to react to my act. “Lily… are you crying? Then how much would a safe place cost?” I trembled all over, looking utterly heartbroken. No one knew I was actually holding back laughter. The kind where your toes curl up. But I managed to keep my voice steady and said, “Not much, just four thousand…” “How much? Four… four thousand?” I nodded vigorously, implying that the cheaper places nearby weren’t secure, and a higher price meant more safety. Riley’s aunt clearly became hesitant. “Honey, you know our family doesn’t have much money, could we…” “You watched Riley grow up. You’re accompanying her like this now; she’ll definitely make big money in the future. You can’t even spare this little bit?” “If you stay here, I definitely won’t tell anyone. This way, you can focus on taking care of Riley’s daily needs.” She looked at me, her eyes slowly becoming firm. Without another word, she transferred five thousand to me; the extra thousand was for me to buy snacks. I accepted it with satisfaction, quickly packed a few things, and prepared to leave. But she grabbed my arm and finally asked me: “Lily, it’s so late, why isn’t Riley back yet? Do you know where she went?” I thought for a moment, then asked around and saw Riley’s social media post. It turned out to be a Student Government dinner, and Riley was at the table. With a quick swipe of my hand, I sent the restaurant’s location to her aunt. I said seriously: “Ma’am, Riley is at this place having dinner with others. Why don’t you go check it out? There are a few guys there too!” Hearing this, her face instantly turned pale. She haphazardly grabbed her bag and rushed out the door, muttering incoherently: “Not coming back to sleep in the middle of the night, and running off to eat with a bunch of guys. I think she’s trying to turn the world upside down!” Watching her retreating figure, I secretly plotted. Riley, don’t you enjoy having someone with you all the time? Then I’ll let you thoroughly enjoy the feeling of being “taken care of” from every possible angle. You’ll be very satisfied. 5 After my roommates all returned to the dorm, I told them what had happened. Hearing that Aunt Carol had stormed off to find Riley, they couldn’t hold back their laughter. Chloe immediately pulled out her phone and said loudly: “This is gonna be good! I’ll get us some eyes on the ground! We’re going straight to the source for this drama.” After some maneuvering, it turned out she actually had connections and got in touch with an anonymous source at the scene. Quietly starting a video call, we grabbed snacks, set up a small table, and gathered around to watch the show. In the video, a middle-aged woman walked slowly, her demeanor aggressive. By the time she reached Riley’s table, the group hadn’t noticed, thinking she was just a passerby. The first person to notice, of course, was Riley. She whipped her head around, saw someone standing behind her chair, and was so startled she almost jumped out of her seat: “Auntie, what are you doing here? How did you find this place!” “You brat, did you think I wouldn’t find this place if you didn’t tell me? It’s so late, and you’re still here messing around with these no-good friends of yours. Hurry up and come back with me!” Riley immediately got anxious: “Auntie, we’re all in the same department. We specifically came out for dinner tonight. We’ll go back after we finish!” In front of so many people, Riley couldn’t lash out at her aunt. But her aunt kept at her: “I said no going out at night, and that means no! How dare you talk back!” Saying this, she forcibly pulled Riley up from her chair. Riley resisted, and in the struggle, the table was overturned. The crisp sound of beer bottles shattering reached everyone’s ears. Her aunt stared at everyone with a strange look: “So young, and you’re already getting girls drunk? Are you all crazy?” The few girls present hurriedly explained that Riley had suddenly wanted to try beer, and no one had forced her to drink. Besides, one bottle of beer split among several people, how could anyone get drunk? Even if she was a lightweight, they would have safely escorted Riley back to the dorm and would never have abandoned her. But her aunt still couldn’t accept it: “I see you’re all in cahoots with those guys! I’ve lived for so many years, what kind of people haven’t I seen? You think a few young punks like you can fool me?” Riley shook her head frantically, explaining that it was really just an ordinary get-together to build friendships. But she still couldn’t win against her aunt, who grabbed her by the ear and dragged her away. Some onlookers couldn’t help but laugh, pointing at them. Her aunt, however, felt no shame at all; she believed she firmly occupied the moral high ground. “Riley Liu, don’t come to the next department meeting… Some departments haven’t finished recruiting yet, you can try applying to others.”

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The air in the luxury boutique felt thick with the scent of expensive leather and ambition. I spotted it – a sleek, emerald-green handbag, nestled like a jewel on a display stand. My hand reached for it, just as another hand, impeccably manicured, landed on it from the opposite side. “Get your filthy hands off that!” a shrill voice cut through the hushed elegance. It was the sales associate, her face twisted in a sneer. “That bag is for Ms. Caldwell! Do you seriously think you can compete with her? She’s one of our most exclusive clients!” I froze, my gaze lifting to the woman beside the sales associate. Chloe Caldwell stood there, arms crossed, a look of pure disgust plastered across her face. “Someone like you? Touching a bag like that?” Chloe scoffed, her eyes raking over me dismissively. “Do you even know how much this bag costs just in pre-orders? You clearly can’t afford it, you pauper!” With a flourish, she produced a credit card and strutted towards the cashier. But as she scrawled her signature, a familiar name caught my eye: “Ethan Miller.” And the card in her hand? It was a supplementary card from my husband’s account – the one I’d set up for his personal expenses. My money. A chill snaked down my spine, but my smile remained fixed. “I saw this bag first. Why should I just hand it over?” My words struck both Chloe and the sales associate dumb for a moment. Then, the sales associate strode towards me, her disdain undisguised. “You?” she scoffed, giving me an exaggerated once-over. “You don’t have enough spare change in your pocket to buy one of our shopping bags, let alone a designer purse. Quit bragging and get out! You’re an eyesore for our esteemed clients. Or I’ll call security!” I suppressed a laugh. The woman was clearly new. She didn’t recognize me. I’d been traveling the world with my daughter for the past six months, so it had been a while since my last visit. Before that, the sales associates here would practically sprint to message me whenever a new collection dropped. Just then, my daughter, Lily, darted out from the mall’s play area, throwing herself into my arms with a sweet cry of “Mommy!” I instinctively tightened my grip, wanting to shield her from the ugliness unfolding before us. But Chloe’s sneering voice cut through the air again. “Look at that, a beggar and her little mini-me. There’s no handout station here, so just scram!” Her harsh tone startled Lily, who immediately clung to me, her eyes welling up with tears. I pulled her closer, glaring at Chloe. “Say that again.” Chloe just rolled her eyes. “Oh, I will. You filthy vagrant.” The sales associate chimed in, echoing Chloe’s sentiments. “Is Ms. Caldwell wrong? Her monthly spending here probably outearns your whole family’s income for three generations!” Chloe brandished the card, a triumphant smirk on her face. “Please. My boyfriend told me if I want it, he’ll bring me the stars themselves.” She swept elegantly toward the cashier, ready to swipe the card. I smirked, raising my hand to make a quick call. Sure enough, after Chloe swiped the card, nothing happened. She frowned. “Is your POS machine broken?” A slow smile touched my lips. That card was under my name. One phone call, and I could freeze it instantly. Ethan Miller, my husband, dared to use my money to parade another woman around. I was going to enjoy watching him squirm. Chloe tried another machine, but the result was the same: “Transaction Declined.” Annoyed, she snatched out her phone and dialed. The call connected quickly, and Chloe pressed speakerphone, shooting me a triumphant glance. “Ethan, darling, my card isn’t working! And I really want this bag.” She pouted, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness, a stark contrast to her earlier venomous demeanor. Then, Ethan’s voice crackled through the phone. “What? How can that be? That’s a Black Card, you can spend unlimited on it! Maybe there’s a small hiccup with the bank. Hold on, let me call them.” Lily, still clinging to me, recognized his voice. Her eyes widened. “That’s Dad…” I gently squeezed her hand, shaking my head. “Not yet, sweetheart.” The show was just beginning. Why spoil the surprise now? Moments later, my own phone buzzed. It was Ethan. I answered, and his voice, sharp and laced with ice, cut through the silence. “What’s wrong with the card you gave me? Why isn’t it working? Fix it within thirty minutes. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Before I could reply, he hung up, curt and dismissive. Almost simultaneously, Chloe’s phone rang again. She glanced at me, her eyes gleaming with smug victory, and pressed speakerphone. Ethan’s voice, this time, was as smooth as silk, dripping with tenderness. “Chloe, don’t worry, sweetie. The bank had a tiny glitch, but I’ve handled it. The card will be working in thirty minutes.” His tone was worlds apart from how he’d just spoken to me – one a god, the other dirt. Chloe’s smile blossomed as she listened, then she looked at me, her gaze challenging and filled with arrogance. “Hear that, country bumpkin? My boyfriend always gives me whatever I want!” I scoffed. So, he thought of me as his personal ATM? No, an ATM at least offered interest and respect. And me? Not only was I supporting him, but I was apparently funding his girlfriend too. Ethan’s game was well-played, cunning to the extreme, and heartless. I took a deep breath, pushing down the surge of anger. Ethan Miller, Chloe Caldwell, this bill was about to come due. Leading Lily, I walked over to the lounge area and settled into a plush armchair. I watched Chloe, calm and composed, wondering how she’d react in thirty minutes. Seeing that I hadn’t left, the sales associate marched over, her voice sharp with dismissal. “Why are you still here? What do you want?” She scrutinized me from head to toe, as if I were a speck of dirt. “People like you lingering around here are bad for business.” She pouted, her expression sour. I looked up at her, my voice steady. “What if she can’t buy it in thirty minutes? Then I still can, right? So I’ll wait.” The sales associate rolled her eyes. “As if you could afford it! What a load of hot air. Look at yourself. A toad dreaming of a swan, aren’t you?” On the other side of the lounge, Chloe gracefully took a seat. Seeing this, the sales associate instantly plastered on a fawning smile and scurried over. She poured Chloe tea, brought out exquisite desserts, and even piled several of the newest handbags in front of her for selection. “Ms. Caldwell, please don’t be upset. People like her are just troublemakers, trying to ruin your shopping mood. Don’t worry, Mr. Miller dotes on you so much, he’ll surely have everything sorted out right away.” Chloe took a sip of tea, her posture refined. “My boyfriend has never broken a promise to me.” She lifted her chin, throwing a defiant glance my way. “If you don’t believe me, just wait and see!” The sales associate quickly backed her up. “Exactly, exactly! Ms. Caldwell’s aura is clearly different from these poor folks. They don’t understand your world. Some people just can’t stand to see others succeed. If they can’t have it, they want to make sure no one else can either.” The atmosphere in the lounge grew tense. Thirty minutes. Almost up. Chloe slowly rose and headed towards the POS machine. Still no response. The proud look on her face shattered. She tried another machine, but the result was the same. The sales associate’s obsequious smile also faltered, replaced by an awkward grimace. Chloe pulled out her phone and called Ethan again. Surprisingly, no one picked up, and there was no response. I glanced at my phone. At this time, his company’s daily meeting would be starting. Under my support, Ethan had risen to a high executive position. He was always careful to show up to the office every day, afraid of being called a “kept man.” Unable to reach him, Chloe grew frantic, dialing his number repeatedly, her frustration evident. After a long moment, Chloe finally lifted her head, biting her lip. “My boyfriend must be busy. He probably didn’t have time to text me back.” She paused. “I don’t think I’ll get this bag now. I’ll have him come with me when he’s not so busy.” The sales associate, who had been working hard to please Chloe, looked crestfallen when she heard she wouldn’t buy the bag. But she dared not say anything, only managing a strained smile and a nod. It was then that I stepped forward. “She’s not buying it. Can I?” The sales associate waved her hand at me like shooing a fly. “I don’t have time for your games. Go away! Don’t waste my time when I could be serving other customers!” I chuckled coldly, then placed a platinum membership card on the counter. This was an exclusive ID, given only to clients who spent millions annually at the store. The sales associate froze, her face a mask of disbelief. Chloe, too, recognized the card. She snatched it up, her expression twisting into something grotesque. “You? Impossible! You must have stolen this card!” Chloe shrieked, her voice rising in pitch. “I knew it, you’re not just poor, you’re a thief! I’m calling the police right now and having you arrested!” I simply gave her a disdainful look. “Don’t believe me? Go ahead, check right now.” Chloe and the sales associate exchanged glances, then both rushed to the computer, inputting my details. Their eyes widened, their faces paling, as they saw my multi-million-dollar purchase history, the points accumulated over years. Chloe’s face turned as black as a kettle. The consumption records displayed clearly on the screen, each number a resounding slap across her proud face. The sales associate was utterly terrified. She stood frozen, as if under a spell, her legs trembling uncontrollably. After a moment, she switched back to a fawning, desperate smile. “You buy this bag, and I’ll give you the absolute biggest discount, plus some limited edition gifts from the store, how about it?” She was a completely different person from moments ago, but I remained calm, watching her smile slowly freeze before I finally spoke. “I’ll take the bag.” Before she could rejoice, I added, “However, the commission for this sale will go to Leah.” The sales associate’s head snapped up, her eyes flashing with a mix of incomprehension and resentment. Leah was the kindest sales associate in this store. No matter how a customer was dressed, she always maintained a welcoming smile. She never judged anyone by their appearance, treating every customer with equal respect. “And you,” my gaze returned to the sales associate, who was now slumping. “I’m filing a complaint with corporate.” Her eyes widened further, and her body began to tremble violently. “Until you’re fired,” I added, each word firm, leaving no room for negotiation. The sales associate lifted her head, glaring at me with resentment. “You’re so rich! Why are you bothering with such a small matter? Can’t you be a little understanding?” Her logic struck me as ridiculous. “If I were truly poor today, would I deserve your mockery?” Realizing she had no counter-argument, the sales associate got up, shot me a venomous look, and retreated to the counter. Chloe, having witnessed the entire exchange, looked even more enraged. She glared at me. “Who knows where your money came from anyway? Probably just some old man!” Just then, Ethan called her back. “Chloe, I was in a meeting, what’s wrong?” Hearing Ethan’s voice, Chloe latched onto it like a drowning woman to a life raft. “Ethan, darling, I’ve been so bullied! Someone stole the bag I wanted. Please, come here, quick!” Ethan sounded confused. “Stolen? Why didn’t you just buy it?” “The card still wasn’t working, and I thought the bank might have some complicated procedure, so I had to give up,” Chloe whined, her voice thick with feigned distress. On the other end of the line, Ethan’s voice instantly turned cold. “That’s outrageous! I’m calling her right now!” “Her,” of course, referred to me. “No, don’t! You come here instead, please, and buy it for me yourself! There’s this woman who keeps harassing me!” “Okay, sweetheart, wait for me. I’m on my way.” The call ended. Chloe’s distressed expression vanished, replaced by a smug smirk as she walked towards me, chin held high. She pointed at the bag in my hand. “Put that down. My boyfriend’s coming to buy it for me. That bag is mine now.” Ethan was coming? This was getting interesting. I wondered what kind of face he would make when he saw me. A slow smile played on my lips as I met Chloe’s triumphant gaze. “You said you weren’t buying it. And I’m about to pay for it. Don’t you understand ‘first come, first served’?” “I was here first! I just had a little issue and couldn’t buy it right away. When did it become your turn?” Chloe scoffed, then turned to the sales associate. “Wrap it up for me. The commission for this bag goes to you.” The sales associate looked at me, her expression shifting again. “I’m sorry, Ms. Vance, but Ms. Caldwell was indeed here first. If you want to buy a bag, perhaps you could look at others.” I saw the malicious gleam in her eyes, knowing she was trying to get revenge for my complaint. I merely smiled coldly. “Alright. Then I’ll just wait and see if your boyfriend can buy it for you.” Less than thirty minutes later, Ethan arrived. I was seated behind a decorative screen in the lounge, out of his immediate sight. Chloe spotted him and immediately rushed into his arms. “Ethan!” Ethan’s voice was gentle as he stroked her hair. “Who’s trying to take your bag, sweetheart? I’ll buy it for you.” Chloe gave me a triumphant look, then pointed directly at my hidden spot. “It’s her!” Ethan’s gaze followed her finger. The moment he saw me, his face fractured. Our eyes met, and the color drained from his face instantly. He froze from head to toe. The tender smile he’d offered Chloe solidified, then shattered, replaced by an almost panicked astonishment.

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My stepmom sent me to live with her best friend, Aunt Michelle, whose place was much closer to my university. What I never expected was that every time my grades improved, Aunt Michelle would give me a special reward. Driven by the desire to get into an overseas grad program, and by the unique allure of a mature woman, I’d never studied so hard in my life. What I also didn’t expect was that this temporary stay would unveil a deep secret… 1 Knock, knock, knock! My stepmom tapped softly on the front door. A moment later, it slowly swung open, and a languid, mature figure drifted into my sight, immediately capturing my full attention. Her dark hair was loosely coiled at the back of her head, held by a simple white claw clip. She wore a silky, long-sleeved robe over a thin slip dress, and a pair of plush white slippers on her feet. Her exquisite face held a hint of sleepiness, as if she’d just woken up. This was Aunt Michelle, my stepmom Sarah’s best friend, a devoted bachelorette. I’d only met her a handful of times, but she’d left an undeniable impression. Her mature charm and voluptuous figure were simply too captivating. “Say hello to Aunt Michelle!” My stepmom nudged me with her elbow, pulling me from my daze of staring. I snapped back, my face flushing, and dutifully managed, “Hi, Aunt Michelle.” What excited me even more was the fact that for the next three months, I’d be staying at her place, and she lived alone. This was Stepmom Sarah’s plan. Our house was in a suburban estate, quite a distance from my university, and commuting wasted too much time. Aunt Michelle’s house, on the other hand, was right next to campus, and since she lived alone, Stepmom Sarah had arranged for me to stay there until my college admissions were finalized. Aunt Michelle offered a gentle smile. “Come in, come in…” She ushered Stepmom Sarah and me inside. In the living room, Stepmom Sarah squeezed Aunt Michelle’s hand. “Ethan’s going to be a handful for you,” she sighed. Aunt Michelle waved a dismissive hand. “He’s practically family, don’t be silly!” After some pleasantries, Stepmom Sarah pulled Aunt Michelle out for a shopping trip. Watching Aunt Michelle change into a pristine white sundress, I was completely mesmerized. For a young guy like me, she possessed a fatal allure. Once they left, I was alone in the house and immediately felt a little bored. I turned on the TV for background noise and started wandering around the apartment. 2 Aunt Michelle lived in a cozy three-bedroom apartment. The master was hers, the second bedroom was given to me, and the smallest bedroom remained locked. Aunt Michelle had completely bypassed it when she showed me around. It seemed like it held some kind of secret. That made me quite curious. But without a key, I couldn’t get in, so I had to forcefully suppress my curiosity. I’d have to wait and see if an opportunity to investigate would arise later. Next, I set my sights on the master bedroom, very eager to see what Aunt Michelle’s room looked like. Unfortunately, the door was locked. A pang of disappointment went through me. But thinking about it, it was perfectly normal. After all, a guy had suddenly moved into her home; she had every right to keep her private space secure. After that, I grabbed a soda and settled into the sofa to watch TV. When I got up to use the restroom, I saw a piece of delicate lingerie on the vanity. My heart instantly started racing. And I… I picked it up. That evening, Aunt Michelle returned alone, handing me a takeout container. “Your stepmom went straight home,” she told me. “She told me to tell you to hit the books hard, or she’d make sure you regret it!” I nodded frantically, though I suspected that last part was all Aunt Michelle. Watching her graceful movements, I felt a little uneasy, knowing I’d done something pretty embarrassing. After speaking, Aunt Michelle went into her room and stayed there for a long time. About half an hour later, she emerged carrying a pile of clothes and vanished into the bathroom. Through the frosted glass door, I could make out a silhouette, like a tantalizing shadow play. The food in my mouth lost all its taste. The alluring scene before me sent my imagination wild, and I even fantasized about pulling open the door for a closer look. Alas, I was tempted, but nowhere near brave enough. After what felt like an eternity, the bathroom door slowly opened, and Aunt Michelle stepped out. Water dripped steadily from her hair, and her towel seemed incredibly thin. I suddenly felt a flush of heat and quickly gulped down a glass of cold water. 3 Aunt Michelle, drying her hair, looked at me and chuckled. “Got a lot of energy, do we?” My face instantly turned crimson. Aunt Michelle just smiled softly. “What’s there to be shy about? It’s perfectly understandable at your age.” I had the desire, but not the courage, and could only force myself to look away. I didn’t notice the slight curl of Aunt Michelle’s lips, a hint of a mischievous, knowing smile. Aunt Michelle walked over to me and whispered, her warm breath caressing my ear, “If you can make it into the top 20 in your class on the next exam, Auntie will give you a little reward…” The lingering fragrance intoxicated me, and Aunt Michelle’s words sent a thrill through me. Her smile was like a demon’s, tempting and insidious. “Exactly what you’re imagining, little guy…” she purred. Then, Aunt Michelle headed towards her room. “Been shopping all day, Auntie’s tired, so I’m heading to bed. You too, little guy, wash up and get some sleep!” “Okay, okay!” I stammered, my voice trembling slightly with excitement. … I splashed cold water on my face, but it didn’t help. My mind was still racing. I turned on my computer and accessed an exclusive, members-only adult website. Most people couldn’t even get in, and [PREMIUM CONTENT] the staggering $150 a month subscription fee was way beyond the average person’s budget. [/PREMIUM CONTENT] I typed “mature women” into the search bar. Hitting enter, a cascade of videos popped up. I randomly clicked on one. The woman in the video wore a fox mask, her figure full and incredibly enticing. As I watched, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she looked a lot like Aunt Michelle. Unconsciously, I started to imagine the woman was Aunt Michelle. Soon enough, I breathed a sigh of relief. Afterwards, I searched the woman’s stage name: Crimson Vixen. A flood of videos appeared, each description wilder than the last. Whether it was my imagination playing tricks, I increasingly felt that this woman was strikingly similar to Aunt Michelle. Although I tried to deny it, the woman in the video also somewhat resembled my stepmom… I couldn’t understand why I was getting that feeling! In the following days, I settled into my cohabitation with Aunt Michelle. It was a novel experience, but also incredibly difficult! Aunt Michelle was simply too tempting; her every move, every smile, left me completely captivated. Sometimes, Aunt Michelle and I would even have some physical contact, which was incredibly exhilarating, showing me what true ‘soft jade and warm fragrance’ felt like. It got to the point where every night, I had to open the website and play the Crimson Vixen videos. Gradually, I started to directly associate the performer with Aunt Michelle. … That day, the exam results were finally released. My tireless studying paid off – I’d jumped straight from somewhere in the 40s to the 20th spot! It was a monumental leap. After school, I rushed home and found Aunt Michelle lounging casually on the sofa, watching TV. I showed her my rank on my phone. Aunt Michelle glanced at it, then smiled. “So, what kind of reward do you want?” My gaze unconsciously drifted to Aunt Michelle. She nodded, and instinctively, I wanted to lunge forward. But Aunt Michelle shook her head. “Little guy, don’t get too greedy.” A moment later, Aunt Michelle pushed me away. “Alright, little guy, that’s enough reward for this time. If you do well next time, there’ll be more rewards…” With that, Aunt Michelle swayed her hips and headed back to her room. I immediately sprinted back to my room and fired up my computer. I opened the familiar website and pulled up a Crimson Vixen video. Just as I was about to close the site, a prominent headline flashed across the top: [PREMIUM CONTENT] “Crimson Vixen Finally Unmasked: An Unmissable Solo Special!” [/PREMIUM CONTENT] I eagerly clicked, but it required a separate payment. Without a moment’s hesitation, I paid. The more I watched Crimson Vixen’s videos, the more convinced I was that she was Aunt Michelle. And the crucial detail was that one night, when I’d gotten up to use the restroom, I’d vaguely heard sounds similar to those in the video coming from the small bedroom. 4 I was certain that was Aunt Michelle’s voice. This only solidified my belief that Crimson Vixen was Aunt Michelle. The video slowly played. Crimson Vixen, draped in a sheer veil, slowly removed her mask. When I saw her true face, my jaw dropped. I froze! It wasn’t Aunt Michelle. It was… it was my stepmom, Sarah. How was this possible? It utterly blew my mind; I never imagined Crimson Vixen would be someone I knew! Which meant, all this time, I’d been doing things to her image… Thinking about it, I nearly broke down. In my mind, my stepmom Sarah was always graceful and gentle. She married my dad two years after my birth mom passed away, when I was only three. She’d treated me as her own, and for my sake, she never had any more children with my dad. But why would she do this? We weren’t short on money. I suddenly thought of Aunt Michelle. As Stepmom Sarah’s best friend, she had to know Sarah very well. I quickly left my room and knocked on Aunt Michelle’s door. It took a while, but a sleepy-eyed Aunt Michelle finally opened it. She looked like she was about to scold me, but seeing my distraught expression, she held her tongue. “What’s wrong?” she asked with concern. “Do you know my stepmom really well?” I asked. Aunt Michelle nodded. I stared at her. “What kind of person do you think she is?” Aunt Michelle spoke softly. “She’s a wonderful person. Gentle and caring, very considerate, and great at looking after people. To me, she’s like an older sister.” “Come with me…” I pulled Aunt Michelle’s hand and led her to my room. I pointed at the computer, where the video was still playing. “This can’t be my stepmom, right?” A flicker of almost imperceptible panic crossed Aunt Michelle’s eyes. She said softly, “I think it’s better if your stepmom tells you about this herself…” With that, she walked out of the room. A short while later, I heard her voice from the living room, making a phone call, probably directly to my stepmom, Sarah. I closed my laptop, my mind a tangled mess. About an hour later, there was a knock at the door. Aunt Michelle, who had been waiting in the living room, opened it. Stepmom Sarah came into my room, sat on the edge of my bed, and took my hand. “The person in the video isn’t me,” she said softly. “It’s my twin sister, Jessica.” “Really?” The disappointment and panic in my heart instantly dissolved by more than half. Stepmom Sarah nodded, sitting beside me. “My sister and I never had a good relationship from childhood. I followed the path: elementary, middle, high school, college, then work. Eventually, I met your dad and got married.” “My sister, on the other hand, was completely different. She liked taking shortcuts and would do whatever it took to get what she wanted. I actually knew she was doing this a long time ago and tried to talk her out of it, but it was useless. She never liked me much to begin with, and my advice only fueled her rebellious streak, making her even more determined to pursue that line of work. Eventually, I just gave up trying to stop her…” “Because of it, I completely cut ties with her. Plus, our parents passed away early, so I essentially just pretended I didn’t have a sister. Your dad knows about this, though; he just never told you.” I wiped away my tears. “I didn’t believe you would do something like that!” Stepmom Sarah stroked my head. “Don’t dwell on it. Your studies are the most important thing!” I nodded heavily. She then pointed at the computer. “You should watch less of this kind of stuff from now on. It’s not good for you.” I scratched my head, a little embarrassed, and just mumbled, “Okay.” But in my heart, I was thinking, as long as I’m living with Aunt Michelle, it’s going to be hard to quit… The next morning, as I rubbed my sleepy eyes and entered the living room, I was stunned by the sight before me. Aunt Michelle was doing yoga in a super-tight athletic outfit.

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Ethan Carter never showed up that night we were supposed to pick out my wedding dress. When I arrived at his office, the place was buzzing. “Congrats, Ethan! You won the case, and you won the girl!” “Yeah, after all these twists and turns, Chloe, your childhood sweetheart, is finally back by your side.” “Ethan, does this mean your wedding with Jenna Miller is indefinitely postponed?” Ethan, surrounded by his colleagues, kept his eyes downcast, his voice chillingly cold. “Don’t compare Jenna to Chloe. Chloe would die if I left her, but Jenna wouldn’t.” I stood outside the door, clutching the bottle of wine I’d made just for him, before dropping it into a nearby trash can. Ethan Carter, I have no use for a love that leaves me half-dead. As I walked out of the law firm, my phone vibrated with his call. His voice was low, laced with apology. “Moon, the firm’s celebrating tonight. Can we postpone picking out the wedding dress?” I watched Chloe Davies walk into the firm and simply smiled. “Sure. No need to pick one.” The man on the other end chuckled, sounding perfectly pleased. “Moon, you’re so understanding. Pick whatever style you like, anything you love, I’ll love too.” I’d heard that line countless times. I used to believe it was trust, a boundless sense of security. Now, it felt like an endless mockery. Perhaps indifference was the only true freedom. I raised an eyebrow slightly. “Okay, I’ll arrange everything.” After hanging up, I canceled the wedding dress appointment. A weight lifted from my chest, yet I felt no trace of reluctance. I had never doubted my feelings for Ethan Carter. I truly believed we were deeply in love. Ethan and I met through winemaking. In the cellar, his perfect profile seemed to sweeten the very air. From that day on, my wine gained a new flavor—one called ‘love.’ I started chasing him with my wines. “Ethan Carter, I just made this. Want to try it?” “Ethan Carter, doesn’t this smell amazing?” “Ethan Carter, do you like this flavor?” Every day, I flitted around him like a chirping little bird. Slowly, we started talking, drinking together. He tirelessly served as my winemaking guinea pig. And I, with equal devotion, became his escape from loneliness. Until that deafening, drunken declaration: “Ethan Carter, I like you.” That ended our thirty days of unspoken. My love was always proactive, but Ethan was like a puppet. He mechanically agreed to all my requests, even when it came to affection. Yet, I happily believed this was unconditional favoritism. It wasn’t until I saw Chloe Davies that I finally understood. Ethan Carter’s time with me seemed to have been spent chasing her shadow. I was merely a fleeting distraction. Just as I was about to drive away, my phone buzzed incessantly with unfamiliar messages. “Hey Moon, Ethan’s really busy right now. Could you send two bottles of wine over?” “Ethan specifically asked for the Memory’s Embrace one.” “He always tells me your wine is so much like me. Thank you for always making him remember me.” Memory’s Embrace. That was the wine Ethan and I had crafted together. I provided the skill, he provided the tasting. It took twenty tries before I finally earned his smile. After that, Ethan named it Memory’s Embrace. What was thought of, never forgotten. I thought he was describing our love, so I treasured the wine. But I never imagined his childhood sweetheart had already surpassed everything. My hands trembled, too weak to reply. In that moment, I felt like a general defeated on the battlefield. Unable to return to the past, unable to move forward. But a voice deep inside me resonated with unwavering conviction. This one-sided love affair needs to end. It’s time to wake up. Back in the cellar, I pulled out four bottles of Memory’s Embrace. The production of Memory’s Embrace was very low. Not because I didn’t want to mass-produce it, but because Ethan wouldn’t allow it. He said it was our exclusive wine, meant only for us, something he didn’t want to share with anyone else. So, Memory’s Embrace was only brought out on our anniversaries. We’d toast under the moonlight, our hearts full. We’d celebrate our love for each other. We’d promise ‘forever and always.’ His tears would trail down his cheek and onto my shoulder, over and over again. At the time, I joyfully believed he loved me to his core. Now, I understood he was just longing for another woman. Inside the private room, Ethan Carter was expertly deflecting drinks for Chloe Davies. He hadn’t even noticed me standing at the door. His cheeks were flushed, a constant smile gracing his lips. This was the first time in three years I’d seen him like this. In that moment, Ethan Carter was joyous, fulfilled. There was none of the carefulness he always showed when he was with me. They complemented each other perfectly, completely oblivious to the teasing of their friends. “Well, well, well, let’s congratulate Ethan on finally getting his true love!” “Yeah, he’s finally not moping around like a lovesick puppy anymore!” “Chloe, you wouldn’t believe it, when you got married, Ethan disappeared for a whole month. We were worried sick!” “Exactly! Good thing he met Jenna Miller back then, otherwise who knows what state he’d be in now.” My name, like a needle, instantly chilled the atmosphere around them. I looked at the silent crowd, my heart yearning for Ethan’s affirmation. I stared at him intently, as if by doing so, he would acknowledge our relationship. But persistence doesn’t always yield answers. After a long moment, Ethan tightened his grip on Chloe’s hand, then slowly, unhurriedly spoke. “Chloe is my true remedy.” Suddenly, the whole room erupted in cheers. Chloe Davies had noticed me at the door long ago. Her arrogant gaze already proclaimed her victory. Knowing I wasn’t welcome in such a boisterous scene, I signaled for a server to deliver the wine. “Mr. Carter, this is the wine you requested.” The man, who had been smiling moments before, looked flustered for an instant when he saw me at the doorway. Just as Ethan was about to step towards me, Chloe unabashedly kissed him. Meeting his gaze, I chose to turn away. In that moment, I fled the battlefield. I was a coward in love. I didn’t have the courage to reclaim what was mine in front of everyone. In the taxi, Chloe Davies’s messages kept pinging. In the video. Ethan Carter, urged on by the crowd, grandly confessed his love to Chloe. He knelt before her, holding a bottle of Memory’s Embrace. “Chloe, this is the wine I made for you. Do you like it?” “Chloe, this wine is my essence, and so are you.” Ethan spoke with conviction, and Chloe’s face flushed. Then, a message from Chloe popped up: “Jenna Miller, thank you for the wine you made for me. Ethan Carter was never yours. I hope you know your place.” After three years, the lioness had reclaimed her territory. And for the other contender, it was either death or exile. Because none of this ever truly belonged to me. When I got home, memories invaded me like poison. Our matching slippers were neatly arranged, but Ethan’s pair looked brand new. Our couple’s mugs were brightly colored, but Ethan’s was already dusty. Our matching pajamas swayed in the breeze, but Ethan’s had never been worn. Ethan and my life was hollow, like two lines that intersected only to immediately run parallel again. We looked united, but our souls had long drifted apart. He never liked anything I prepared for him, yet for Chloe, he tacitly allowed it. Ethan Carter had never betrayed Chloe Davies; I was just an accidental detour. A phone call pulled me back to reality. The wedding photographer politely inquired. “Ms. Miller, I heard you canceled the wedding dress fitting. What about tomorrow’s photo shoot?” I looked at the repeating images on my phone, my voice devoid of any lingering emotion. “Cancel everything.” I was about to throw away all our paired items when Ethan’s key in the lock made me freeze. Ethan’s tense shoulders relaxed when he saw me. He took my hand, his smile incredibly gentle. “Thank you, Moon, for being so understanding.” “I really liked the wine tonight, and Chloe did too.” Seeing my silence, he patiently explained. “Chloe Davies, you know, we grew up together. We’re like siblings. You’re not jealous, are you?” “My Moon is so sweet, she would never be jealous.” No sooner had he spoken than he leaned down and kissed my forehead. Ethan was always different when he was drunk. He was like a loyal dog. “Ethan Carter, say you love me.” “Moon, I love you.” “Ethan Carter, say you miss me.” “Moon, I miss you.” “Ethan Carter, call me your wife.” “Moon, wife.” All the words he couldn’t utter when sober, he spoke without hesitation when drunk. I used to secretly delight in this for a long time. His tenderness, his thoughtfulness, his deep affection – I only truly had them under the influence of alcohol. Each time, I used repetitive questions to test my importance in his heart. Thankfully, I always got the answers I wanted. I filled my anxieties with this illusionary love. But now, I was tired of it. The dream needed to end. I clenched my hands, my voice firm as I spoke. “Ethan Carter, do you love Chloe Davies?” Without a moment’s hesitation, Ethan blurted out. “Yes, Chloe, I love you.” I staggered backward, step by step. This was the secret he had hidden for three years. “Ethan Carter, do you want to marry Chloe Davies?” At this, the man’s eyes reddened, his lips trembling with an unspoken grievance. He stepped forward, pulled me into a tight embrace, and buried his face in my shoulder, pleading. “Yes… more than anything. I’ve dreamed of it.” “Chloe, will you marry me?” Fueled by alcohol, Ethan had mistaken me for Chloe Davies. The high-and-mighty Attorney Carter, now begging so humbly. His indifference felt like a thousand knives, each one piercing my heart. I trembled with pain, with crushing disappointment. Yes, from the very beginning, had he ever truly loved me? I was just a shadow, and now his light had returned. The shadow should fade away. I didn’t humiliate myself further or respond. In the vast room, only the ticking of the clock could be heard. I stood rooted to the spot, letting him lean heavily on me, letting his warmth spread over me. I had always craved his warmth. On cold winter nights, I would instinctively lean into him. In biting winds, I would tightly hold his hands and refuse to let go. But now, with a gentle breeze, a chill ran through me. I stood motionless until my feet grew numb, until his strength completely gave out. I forcefully pushed Ethan away, and he collapsed onto the sofa, falling into a deep sleep. That night, for the first time, we slept in separate beds. His snores echoed, while my tears flowed silently. The next morning, Ethan Carter’s phone woke me up. “Attorney Carter, you and Chloe really moved fast! The wedding planner has been waiting forever, and Chloe’s here too. Hurry up!” “Attorney Carter, what about your wedding with Ms. Miller? Should I notify them to cancel?” The wedding planner was someone Ethan had contacted himself previously. He had said that I was too busy planning the wedding alone and that he wanted to share the burden. At the time, I had smiled so happily, completely unaware that he was personally preparing this for Chloe Davies. Ethan’s voice was barely a whisper. “Keep it down, don’t let Moon hear.” He quickly got up and rushed into the bedroom, our eyes meeting. All traces of awkwardness had vanished from Ethan’s face. He walked towards me with a slight, low chuckle. “Moon, I’m so sorry I couldn’t go wedding dress shopping with you yesterday.” “Did you pick one out? Do you have pictures? My Moon looks beautiful in anything.” He spoke, a polite pretense of concern, as he went through his morning routine. In reality, his mind was crystal clear. His concern for me was just a routine courtesy. His response to my choices was just polite acknowledgment. I watched him move around the room, huge dark circles under my eyes, until he was ready to leave, then I called out to him. “Ethan Carter, are you really willing to marry me?” A week ago, Ethan had proposed to me out of nowhere. There were no flowers, no diamond ring. “Moon, will you marry me?” I hadn’t doubted him; I simply saw it as an unexpected joy in my life. My eyes filled with tears, and I nodded silently, again and again. “Moon, are you really willing to marry me?” Ethan had asked for reassurance multiple times, and I had answered firmly, “Yes.” But I had never asked him if he was willing to marry me. I wanted an answer that would utterly crush my hope, once and for all. Ethan’s hurried steps hung suspended in the air. Three seconds later, he offered comfort in an incredibly gentle tone. “What’s wrong? Are you unhappy about planning the wedding?” “It’s okay if you can’t get the wedding wine right away, don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” “Good girl, the firm has something urgent. We can talk about it tonight, okay?” I still pressed on, unwilling to give up. “But we arranged to take our wedding photos today.” Ethan never liked my stubbornness. What he said wouldn’t change, and I couldn’t change it. A ripple crossed the man’s calm face, and his voice began to show impatience. “Didn’t I tell you the firm has something urgent? Jenna Miller, what is wrong with you today?” “If you don’t want to go, just go take them yourself. Leave a blank space and I’ll just be Photoshopped in later.” “And, forget about the invitations for now. The firm just landed a big case, so let’s just go get our marriage license first.” No sooner had he spoken than the man left without looking back. Overnight, Ethan Carter was like a stranger had taken over his body. He felt like a dream I’d had. I no longer recognized the man I had loved for three years. Through the window, I saw his frantic silhouette for the first time. So this was the pace someone takes when rushing to meet the person they truly desire. In that moment, I knew for certain that Ethan Carter no longer loved me. In the days that followed, he was always out early and back late. It was through Chloe Davies’s social media that I learned. In three days, they had completed three years of my plans. Day one: they picked out wedding dresses together. Day two: they took their photos together. Day three: they finished writing the invitations together. And I completely gave up on everything to do with Ethan Carter. Day one: I rented out the vineyard. Day two: I sold all my wine. Day three: I packed my bags, alone. Day four: It was the day of Ethan Carter and Chloe Davies’s wedding. And it was the day for me to wisely leave. At four in the morning, Ethan rushed out, citing a court appearance. My sleepy eyes caught him. “Ethan Carter, this is a new wine I made. I wish you all the best.” Since I was leaving, a dignified farewell was the best outcome. We met over wine, so let it end with wine. Ethan paused, then smiled and agreed. “Okay, when this busy period is over, we’ll drink it together.” I lowered my head, looking at my curled toes. “Take it with you. If you win the case, consider it a victory toast.” Ethan looked at my unusual behavior with a puzzled expression. He knew I always trusted him unconditionally. So, he knew I wouldn’t find out he was getting married today. At that moment, he naturally couldn’t be bothered with me. His bride was eagerly awaiting him; how could he bear to make her wait? He gently patted my head and disappeared into the night. At the wedding venue, Chloe Davies immediately spotted my wine. “Ethan, can I use this bottle for our toast?” “You know I’m not a big drinker, but Jenna’s wine is always so sweet, perfect for today, don’t you think?” Ethan couldn’t bear to refuse, so he immediately poured the wine. But the moment he tasted it, he froze. The wine glass slipped from his hand and shattered. He tore off the celebratory boutonniere and started to leave. Just as I was about to board the plane, my phone suddenly rang. Caller ID – Ethan Carter.

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The day I was a perfect match for my father, who was in the terminal stage of leukemia, I ran away. Mom searched everywhere for me, but in the end, she had to say goodbye to Dad without me. Later, Mom dedicated herself to leukemia research and achieved remarkable success. She also adopted a sweet, obedient daughter. We met again at a leukemia symposium Mom was hosting. Mom looked down at me, lying on the demonstration table, her expression cold. “Summer Lin, this isn’t the place for your games.” “Get up and get out, now!” Hearing this, the host beside her was stunned. “Dr. Lin, you know this donor?” Mom scoffed. “How much did she pay you to play along with this charade?” The host was flustered. “Dr. Lin, Miss Summer Lin passed away three days ago…” … Mom frowned. “I thought today was for serious discussion, not some April Fools’ prank.” “Summer’s special effects makeup is incredibly lifelike; I almost believed it.” As she spoke, her gaze unintentionally swept over my face, a flicker of panic in her eyes. She forced a stiff smile. “So, is this whole charade supposed to be a surprise or a shock?” The host shot a pleading look at a reporter nearby. The reporter stepped onto the stage and took the microphone. “Hello everyone, I’m Sarah Miller, a journalist and one of the organizers of this event.” “Next, we’ll play a message from our donor.” The large screen on stage began to play a video. In the video, I was sitting on a beach, looking at the camera. “Hi everyone, I’m Summer Lin. I love the sun, the sky, and the sea. So, look, isn’t the ocean behind me magnificent? I always dreamed of coming to the beach with Mom and Dad.” “But that’s become an impossible dream. It’s okay, though. I brought a photo of Mom and Dad, so it’s like they’re here with me.” I carefully took a photo from my bag and showed it to the camera. “Oh, and my mom is an absolutely incredible woman, and also…” Before I could finish, I suddenly collapsed backward. The camera shook violently, and screams came from off-screen. “She’s unconscious! Quick, get her to a hospital!” “I told you not to let her come! You still let her!” The next moment, I reappeared on camera, making a silly face. “Haha, fooled ya!” As I laughed, my eyes reddened. “Mom, I love you. So, so much.” The video froze on the image of me crying. Mom’s expression remained indifferent. “Ms. Miller, this is an academic symposium, not some family reunion show.” The audience immediately started murmuring. “Isn’t that Dr. Lin’s daughter? I heard Summer was a match for her dad. If she’d just donated marrow, he wouldn’t have died.” “She’s heartless. Wouldn’t even save her own father.” “What’s she trying to pull, showing up at a symposium like this?” “Probably saw Dr. Lin getting famous and wants a piece of the pie.” “This donor… it can’t really be Summer Lin, can it?” “If she’s dead, she had it coming. That’s karma for not saving her dad.” But it wasn’t that I didn’t want to donate marrow to Dad; I just couldn’t. If I could, I would have gladly traded my life for his health. But I couldn’t even save myself… Hearing the whispers from the audience, Mom’s face changed drastically. She was about to reach out and touch me when Sarah quickly stopped her. “Dr. Lin, please watch the documentary first.” “We hope that through Miss Summer Lin’s cancer journey documentary, everyone can truly understand the world of a leukemia patient.” The screen changed, and loud music instantly filled the air. It was a noisy bar. I was carrying a tray full of drinks, weaving through the dancing crowd. Even heavy makeup couldn’t hide my pale complexion. Suddenly, I grabbed a drink and splashed it at the camera, annoyed. “Can you stop bothering me while I’m working?” “You’re Summer Lin, right? Hi, I’m Sarah Miller. I’m a journalist with a cancer advocacy group, and we want to film a documentary about leukemia patients.” “If you agree to be filmed, we can cover all your treatment costs.” Her voice was gentle and sincere. I stared into the camera and asked, “If I cooperate with your filming, can you give me the treatment money in cash instead?” Silence from the other side of the camera. I gave a wry smile, picked up my tray, and went back to work. Until 2 AM, I dragged my exhausted body out of the bar. The woman approached me again. “Summer, do you urgently need money? Are you in some kind of trouble? I can try my best to help.” The moment I looked up, blood suddenly gushed from my nose. Gasps came from off-camera. “Summer!” [Filming Log: June 2, 2024] “Summer, are you working yourself to death to pay for your father’s treatment?” I had a popsicle in my mouth, looking displeased. “You’ve been investigating me behind my back?” Sarah patiently answered, “You’re the subject of our documentary. We naturally need to understand your basic situation beforehand.” “But are you sure you don’t want to tell your parents you’re sick?” I shook my head firmly. “No.” “Why not?” Sarah’s gaze was hesitant. I opened the notes app on my phone and showed it to her. 4:00 AM – 7:30 AM: Diner prep cook 8:00 AM – 5:00 PM: Sales office 5:30 PM – 8:00 PM: Tutoring at after-school center 8:20 PM – 9:30 PM: Private tutoring 10:00 PM – 2:00 AM: Late-night food truck I suppressed the turmoil inside me and said bitterly, “That’s my mom’s schedule. Five jobs a day, to earn money for Dad’s treatment.” “If she knew I was sick too, what would she do?” Sarah’s eyes welled up a bit. I sniffled. “The only two hours of rest she gets each day would disappear.” “She’ll work herself to death!” Talking about Mom, I couldn’t hold back my tears. “My mom was supposed to be a doctor, saving lives. But she gave up her dream, carrying our whole family on her small shoulders.” “Dad was diagnosed with leukemia my senior year of high school. To not be a burden on Mom and me, he snuck out one night and tried to drown himself in the river.” “Mom and I cried and begged him, and only then did he give up…” Sarah handed me a tissue. “Summer…” I took the tissue and roughly wiped my tears. “If Dad knew I was sick too… what choice would he make?” “There’s already one cancer patient in the family. There can’t be a second.” Sarah patted my shoulder, wanting to hug me. I shook my head at her. “The day the match results came in, I was diagnosed with leukemia at another hospital.” “I was so scared Dad would find out, I just ran.” “Dad thought I didn’t want to save him. He didn’t blame me; instead, he cried and begged me to stay. He said it was okay, as long as I was happy, that’s all he wanted.” “My check-ups were always fine before, but it just had to be that day.” “Just a little bit more… and I could have saved him…” I covered my face with my hands and broke down crying. [Filming Log: June 10, 2024] I was rushing around on my e-bike, delivering food, the camera always behind me. After finishing the last delivery, I sighed at the camera. “I told you, I don’t have time to film with you.” “Summer, wait.” Sarah stepped in front of my bike, pulled out her phone, and showed me the screen. “Look, we contacted a charity. They’ve already raised the money for your dad’s medical expenses and will donate it.” “Summer, please believe us. We genuinely want to help you.” “So please, don’t give up on yourself. Come to the hospital with us and get treatment, okay?” The screen went silent for a moment. When I looked up again, tears were streaming down my face. “I’ll do the filming.” “Consider it my way of repaying you for saving my dad.” [Filming Log: June 11, 2024] Looking at the words “Body Donation” on the contract. I suddenly looked at the camera. “Where will these videos be shown? I don’t want Mom and Dad to see them.” “They can never know. Not ever.” Sarah immediately cut me off. “Summer, you’re not going to die.” “The videos will only be used as internal records. Don’t worry, they won’t find out.” For the first time, I smiled on camera. “Thank you, Sarah.” [Filming Log: July 1, 2024] My face was gaunt, cheeks hollowed, the hospital gown hanging loosely on me. Looking at the camera, I forced myself to sit up. “Can I stop chemo now?” Sarah held my hand and shook her head firmly. “Summer, I know chemo is painful, but you have to believe you can beat this. Let’s just try a little harder, okay?” The recurring fevers and vomiting tormented me to the breaking point. That night, I lost control, threw my food on the floor, and drove everyone away with harsh words. Afterwards, I hid under the covers and cried. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Sarah hugged me through the blanket. “Summer, it’s okay.” My voice trembled. “I never knew chemo was this horrible. Dad endured all this for us.” “Sarah, I miss Mom and Dad so much…” [Filming Log: September 1, 2024] “Summer, it’s your birthday today. Do you have any birthday wishes?” The camera focused on the hospital room door. The next moment, I opened the door and walked out. I was wearing a pale yellow long-sleeved dress and a brown curly wig. “Sarah, let’s go to the amusement park today!” Before we left, I secretly took some painkillers. Sarah saw but didn’t stop me, just turned away and quietly wiped her eyes. I sat on the carousel, making a peace sign at the camera. Sarah held up her phone, taking pictures of me. “Summer, look here! Smile! Yes, that’s it, so pretty.” When I got off the carousel, my legs suddenly gave out, and I collapsed to the ground. The painkillers had worn off. Back at the hospital, the doctor immediately gave me an injection. That evening, I used the photos Sarah took to make a social media post. The camera focused on my phone screen. A minute later, Dad liked my post and commented, “Happy birthday, sweetie. You’ve lost weight. Make sure you eat well.” Two minutes later, Mom sent me $500 via a money transfer app. Double what she sent last month. Tears fell onto the phone screen, one after another. I wiped them away, blew out the candles on my cake, and made a wish: “I wish Mom and Dad will always be healthy and happy.” [Filming Log: October 6, 2024] “Summer!” Sarah rushed into the room, her voice urgent. I was completely wrapped in my blanket, shaking violently, my choked sobs filling the air. Sarah reached out and gently touched where my head was under the blanket. “Summer, are you okay?” After what felt like an eternity, I slowly emerged from under the covers. My eyes were red and swollen from crying, my face streaked with tears. “Sarah… my dad passed away.” Sarah looked at me with concern. “Summer…” I wiped my tears and struggled to get out of bed. “Sarah, I want to go see Dad one last time.” The scene changed to a funeral home. Sarah had someone distract Mom, and I went to Dad’s viewing room, holding a bouquet of white lilies. I bowed deeply three times before his casket and paid my respects. No one had noticed me yet. But as I left the viewing room and was about to get into the car, Mom suddenly called my name. “Summer?” I didn’t dare turn around. I urged the driver to go, fleeing in panic. I looked in the right-hand rearview mirror. Mom ran after the car for a few steps, then stopped, stunned, watching me leave with an expression full of disappointment. Then my phone rang. It was Mom. My hand trembled as I pressed the reject button. I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall, whispering, “Mom, I’m so sorry.” [Filming Log: December 10, 2024] After the third round of chemo, I was even worse. Sarah sat beside me, reading a list of leukemia survivors from the hospital. I interrupted her. “Sarah, take a picture of me.” Sarah was stunned. “What?” “While I still look somewhat human, let’s take my funeral portrait.” Sarah’s voice choked. “Don’t say things like that.” I smiled faintly. “You have to make me look beautiful.” And just like that, we started. I got up, put on my wig, and changed into new clothes. Such simple actions took me a whole hour. Sitting in front of a white wall. I gave a big smile to the camera. Sarah’s eyes were red, her hand holding the camera shaking so much that ten shots in a row were blurry. I shook my head in mock disgust. “Sarah, you’re making me look awful.” Sarah sniffled. “You promised me you’d keep fighting. Otherwise, I’ll use these ugly pictures for you.” I burst out laughing. “Alright, alright, as long as you make me look good.” Just then, a flock of birds flew past the window, chirping. Sarah aimed the camera at my face. Click. My smile was forever captured in the camera. “Doctor!” “Someone, quick!” Chaotic shouts erupted around me. Sarah dropped the camera and rushed towards me. I stared at the spinning ceiling and slowly closed my eyes. “Mom, I’m sorry.” “Dad, I’m coming to find you.”

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