Category: English

My girlfriend Lillian’s entire family was taken hostage, and as SWAT team members, we headed out together for the rescue. During the firefight, I took a bullet while covering Lillian. Just as I was relieved that I was wearing a bulletproof vest, I noticed blood seeping through where I’d been shot. Upon inspection, I discovered that the bulletproof vest Lillian had given me was actually just a cotton vest. Faced with my pained and confused gaze, Lillian said coldly, “I swapped your vest and gave it to Carmen. He’s a rookie—his reflexes aren’t as sharp as yours. He needs to wear two vests to be safe.” Clutching my wound, I demanded furiously, “Didn’t you think I could die from getting shot?” Lillian’s face filled with anger after hearing this. “How can you be so inconsiderate of a rookie? It’s just one bulletproof vest, isn’t it?” “Besides, it didn’t even hit anything vital. What are you screaming about?” I knew arguing was pointless. After bandaging my wound, I sent a message to my dad, Chief Johnson, asking for backup: “I’ve been shot and need rescue. Also, this rescue mission needs to be temporarily canceled.”

Soon after, Lillian, as team captain, received orders from the chief to cancel the mission. She grabbed me by the collar, her eyes blazing. “You’re the one who filed that report, aren’t you?” “Don’t you realize my family is in the terrorists’ hands right now? Every second we delay puts them in more danger.” “You actually requested to cancel the mission—are you trying to get them killed?” When she yanked me like that, my freshly bandaged wound tore open again, blood spilling onto the ground. I pressed hard against the wound on my ribs, enduring the pain as I responded, “We were ambushed midway, which proves the enemy was prepared. Going to rescue them now would be walking into a trap.” “And I’ve been shot—is there something wrong with requesting backup?” Before Lillian could respond, Carmen cut in with a sarcastic tone. “Jones, I hate to say it, but you’re part of the SWAT team. You want to retreat over a little flesh wound?” “I’m embarrassed for you!” “Besides, the hostages we’re rescuing are Captain Lillian’s family—your future family too. You think you can just decide not to save them?” “Are you just a coward, or does Lillian not mean enough to you?” With his instigation, the other team members started criticizing me too. “Jones, if your skills aren’t up to par, you need more training. Running away will only make everyone look down on you more!” “We have a tradition of light wounds not leaving the front line. You want backup for a little scrape? The other teams will laugh at us.” The searing pain was unbearable, and my teammates’ mockery pushed me over the edge. I released the pressure on my wound and pointed at the blood gushing from it. “Are you all blind, or have you lost your conscience? You call this a flesh wound?” The other team members fell silent after seeing my injury, except for Carmen, who still wore a mocking, disdainful expression. “Are you proud you got shot? Showing it off like some kind of honor display.” Lillian walked up with a look of contempt. “Why is everyone else fine except you got shot?” “It’s because you slack off during training, so you’re useless in real combat. And you have the nerve to complain?” I wanted to defend myself, but the piercing pain made me not want to say another word. As I continued losing blood, my vision grew increasingly blurry, everything before me swaying. Fortunately, I had sent out that distress signal in time, or the consequences would have been unthinkable. Just when I thought Lillian would order a retreat, I heard her command everyone to keep moving forward. “Everyone, move out. While the terrorists aren’t on alert yet, let’s take down their hideout in one strike and rescue the hostages.” I struggled to my feet, gritting through the pain. “You… you want to disobey orders?” The corner of Lillian’s mouth curled as she said coldly: “I’m the field commander for this operation. I have final say!” “I won’t let some coward interfere with the smooth execution of this rescue!” Seeing her crazed state, I knew arguing was pointless and stopped trying. “Lillian, I understand you’re desperate to save them, but I’ve been shot. I can’t keep moving with you all. I can only wait here for rescue.” “No way!” Before Lillian could give orders, Carmen spoke up first. He looked at me sinisterly. “If we leave him here, he’ll definitely tell the chief that Captain Lillian deliberately disobeyed orders.” “To clear herself of that charge, we have to take him with us!” “If he dares talk nonsense, we’ll pin the whole disobeying orders thing on him!”

The other team members, intimidated by Lillian and Carmen’s authority, echoed their agreement. I looked at the ice-cold Lillian and said emotionally, “Lillian, counting today, I’ve saved you four times.” “The first time was four years ago. I dug you out of a pile of corpses and carried you for three days and nights to get out of the desert.” “You were so moved you cried, saying you’d spend your life repaying me, vowing to never betray me.” “I know I don’t matter to you anymore, but I hope you can give me one chance to escape, for the sake of how many times I’ve saved you.” Hearing this, Lillian seemed slightly moved and was about to speak when Carmen interrupted. “Lillian, you can’t be too soft-hearted.” “Leaving him here will ruin everything!” “The rescue operation might get canceled because of one word from him.” At this, Lillian’s brows furrowed as she looked at me coldly. “Don’t try to blackmail me with those things. That’s all in the past.” “For this operation, you’re the only one familiar with the enemy’s terrain. If you don’t go, how can we rescue the hostages?” “That’s right! Jones has to go. Don’t think you can play dead here!” Carmen quickly chimed in. Looking at these two disgusting people, I knew reason wouldn’t work, so I played my last card. “Don’t mess around. Police Chief Johnson is actually my dad. If you treat me like this, he won’t let you get away with it!” “Ha ha ha…” Carmen laughed maniacally. “That’s hilarious! Jones, I never thought you’d be such a coward that you’d claim random people as your father just to save your life.” The others mocked me too. “How could Chief Johnson have a son with a completely different surname?” Lillian even slapped me hard across the face. “Jones, I’m ashamed to have a boyfriend like you!” “If you spout one more word of nonsense, I’ll blow your head off!” With that, she actually pressed her gun to my forehead. I knew they were determined to take me along, so I stopped explaining but made one request. “I’ll go with you, but you have to make Carmen return that bulletproof vest to me.” “I’m injured and can’t move easily…” “Shut up!” Before I could finish, Lillian cut me off sharply. “You’re injured, so naturally you have no combat capability. Why waste a bulletproof vest?” “I’ll say it one more time—Carmen is participating in combat for the first time and has no experience. He must have two bulletproof vests to be safe!” Watching Lillian speak these biased words with such righteousness, I couldn’t help feeling heartbroken. I never imagined that my girlfriend, who once had eyes only for me, would disregard my life and death for another man. Ever since Carmen joined the team, she’d been acting possessed, her eyes constantly following him. Before, I thought she just enjoyed looking at handsome guys, just eye candy, nothing more. After all, we’d survived life and death together many times—she couldn’t possibly betray our years of feelings. Now it seemed I was terrifyingly stupid. Seeing I still wasn’t moving, Lillian clicked a round into the chamber with a loud snap and pressed it against my forehead. “Don’t think I won’t shoot. Get up now. Move!”

Left with no choice, I clutched my wound and struggled to my feet. “I’ll help you, Jones.” Carmen walked over with a fawning expression. Before I could refuse, he viciously struck my wound with his gun butt, making tears stream down my face from the pain. I endured the pain and shoved Carmen away hard. “Get lost!” Carmen let out an exaggerated cry and fell dramatically to the ground. Without a word, Lillian came forward and shoved me hard. “What are you doing? Carmen was trying to help you, and you push him?” Carmen took the opportunity to add fuel to the fire. “I wore Jones’s bulletproof vest, so it’s normal he’s angry. I don’t mind taking some abuse if it helps Jones calm down and properly lead us to rescue the hostages.” Hearing this, Lillian’s eyes blazed with fury. She came forward and slapped me twice across the face. “Don’t think you can bully him just because Carmen is kind-hearted. I won’t allow it!” “If you dare hurt him, I’ll make you pay back double!” She used all her strength with those slaps, making my ears ring and my face burn, but my heart hurt even more. I had no energy to explain, nor did I want to. “I can walk myself. I don’t need his help.” “You don’t need my help—you just want to take the chance to run away.” Carmen looked at me maliciously, speaking in a sarcastic tone. Lillian glanced at me with disgust. “Jones, you keep causing trouble. If you delay my rescue, I definitely won’t let you off!” Then she turned to Carmen. “Watch him. If he makes any suspicious moves, execute him on the spot.” “Anyway, we’re in a combat zone right now. Any accident can be explained away.” I knew she said this deliberately for me to hear, and I knew she was capable of it. These team members were all trained by her. Even if she really did something terrible to me, they would definitely take her side. A wise man doesn’t fight when the odds are against him. I just hoped the rescue team would arrive soon. After Carmen helped me up, he dragged me forward at a run, completely ignoring that my wound was bleeding more and more. After a violent sprint, my breathing became increasingly difficult, my vision darkening, as if my heart would stop beating at any second. Just then, several dark figures flashed through the alley ahead. Lillian called out in a low voice, “Take cover. Suspicious persons ahead.” Before Lillian finished speaking, Carmen shoved me forward hard, throwing me right into the intersection of two alleys. At the same time, the clicking sound of a machine gun being loaded came from not far down the alley. I knew if I hesitated another second, I’d be turned into swiss cheese. I used what little strength I had left and threw myself toward the wall corner. Unexpectedly, when I crashed into it, the wall collapsed with a crash. As the wall fell, gunfire erupted by my ears. Fortunately I dodged quickly, or I’d be dead. Taking advantage of their engagement, I crawled over the collapsed wall and hid in a small dark room. I used my locator to send another distress signal, hoping the rescue team could find me soon. The gunfire outside rang out for a while before stopping quickly. Looked like they’d encountered a small force that retreated after exchanging fire. Hiding in the little dark room, I didn’t dare breathe heavily. My enemies weren’t just the terrorists, but also those teammates who wanted me dead. I stared at that door missing a corner, both hoping the people coming to save me would push through soon, and fearing that whoever came through would be there to harm me. Just as I was torn with anxiety, the door creaked open.

A tall, thin figure pushed through the door with a sinister smile. When I fully made out his features, my heart sank. Damn, it was that bastard Carmen. I tried to curl myself into as small a ball as possible, praying in my heart he wouldn’t see me. “Stop hiding, Jones. I can see you.” I looked up to find the bastard was already right in front of me. I forced out what breath I had. “What are you here for?” Carmen smiled darkly. “To rescue you, of course, my good teammate.” “Get away from me. I’d thank God if you just didn’t harm me.” “Don’t be so proud. I found a bottle of iodine to disinfect your wound.” With that, he reached out to tear off my bandage. I tried desperately to push him away, but having lost too much blood, my hands were powerless and couldn’t stop him at all. After he ripped off the gauze, he actually stuck his finger directly into my wound and tore it viciously, ripping my wound into a gaping hole as blood gushed out. “Ahhh…” The piercing pain made me scream involuntarily, and then I kicked Carmen flying, sending him crashing into the wall. That kick used all my remaining strength. Carmen wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, brushed the dust off his backside, and smiled coldly. “I just performed a little surgery on you. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine soon.” “I have no grudge against you. Why do you have to harm me…” “No grudge? You…” Just then, Lillian burst through the door with others. Seeing people arrive, Carmen immediately fell backward, clutching his chest and wailing. “Jones, I was just trying to bandage your wound. Why did you kick me?” Hearing that I’d kicked Carmen, Lillian immediately rushed over to kick me, but Carmen grabbed her. He probably feared Lillian would see my torn-open wound. “Forget it, Lillian. I can’t blame Jones for being angry at me. If I hadn’t worn his bulletproof vest, he wouldn’t have been injured. It’s normal for him to hate me.” “Carmen, you’re just too kind. But you have to choose who deserves kindness. Someone like Jones—no matter how well you treat him, he won’t appreciate it.” “Today I’m definitely going to teach this ungrateful bastard a lesson for you!” With that, she shook off Carmen and charged at me furiously. Just as she lifted her foot to kick me, her expression suddenly changed and she froze completely. “You… how are you hurt this badly? You only got shot in the ribs—how are your intestines hanging out?” I used my last bit of strength to point at Carmen. “He… it was him…” “He means I was the one who bandaged him.” Before I could finish, Carmen interrupted me. Carmen looked utterly righteous. “When I found Jones, he was already like this. He probably caught his wound on something while escaping and tore it open.” At this point, he looked around slowly and said, “Looking at it now, Jones’s injury is beyond saving. It’s time we made a decision.” Lillian asked worriedly, “You mean…” “Exactly. He’s in this condition now—we definitely can’t take him with us. If he falls into the terrorists’ hands, he’ll inevitably reveal our whereabouts.” “Better we end his suffering now. It’ll let him go peacefully and prevent the risk of our location being exposed.” Carmen spoke with such righteousness, as if he was doing this entirely for my benefit. Hearing they wanted to make a move on me, everyone looked hesitant. Seeing their hesitation, Carmen continued, “If you’re not afraid of Jones leaking information and getting everyone killed here, just pretend I didn’t say anything.” Hearing this, Lillian finally took a stance. “Let’s do as Carmen says. This way we’re helping Jones reduce his suffering.” Hearing the captain had spoken, the others could only agree. Carmen had someone bring over a basin of water and took out some paper towels. “We each take a paper towel, soak it in water, then press it over his face. In just a few minutes, he’ll stop breathing.” “This way we all have a part in it, so no one will dare report us.” Hearing this, everyone lowered their guard and started soaking paper to cover my nose and mouth. After several sheets were placed over my face, my breathing became increasingly difficult. Just as I thought I was about to die, suddenly a team burst through the door, the leader shouting sternly, “Stop!” Everyone froze when they saw who had arrived.

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My younger sister Ella had a rare disease. The slightest touch would leave her covered in bruises, and a fall could shatter her bones completely. She was our family’s “porcelain doll.” Growing up, the words I heard most often were that I had to protect Ella at all costs. So when she fell down the stairs right in front of me, I didn’t hesitate to throw myself beneath her. Ella was fine. But I broke my leg and would be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of my life. After that, the words I heard most often changed to: “Anna, Ella will be grateful to you.” My parents’ praise made me even more devoted to protecting Ella. But after I protected Ella yet again, strange text appeared before my eyes. [Actually, Anna is pretty pitiful. She’s protected Ella for so many years, and she’ll die still believing Ella really is a “porcelain doll.”] [This is her fate—destined to be nothing but a tool to protect Ella!] I didn’t believe this nonsense. Until the day Ella fell and there was no swelling, no bleeding. She got up like nothing happened and sighed: “How much longer do I have to keep up this porcelain doll act!”

My deformed fingers unconsciously gripped the wheelchair armrest. That was from when Ella was three and ran into the street to grab a toy. I saved her but got run over by an electric scooter. Three of my fingers were nearly crushed and could never bend again. But even then, I hadn’t protected Ella well enough. Her knee scraped against the gravel road, blood flowing freely. When my mother arrived, she didn’t even glance at me, rushing Ella straight to the hospital. By the time she remembered me, the doctor said it was too late. My fingers would never bend again. Even so, my mother punished me when we got home. “Anna, can’t you put more effort into protecting Ella!” I don’t remember what the punishment was. My mother had too many different ways to punish me. But that disappointed shout and the pain of my broken fingers remained crystal clear in my memory. After that, I protected Ella even more recklessly. My gaze moved from my twisted fingers to Ella in the distance. At home, she always sat quietly on the sofa. Couldn’t run, couldn’t jump. Carefully playing her role as a “porcelain doll.” But now she was jumping freely to reach the leaves overhead. Chasing butterflies back and forth. Her pale arms scraped against tree branches. No bruises. No bleeding. Just a faint red mark that quickly disappeared. Ella had said, “How much longer do I have to keep up this porcelain doll act?” So she really was like those comments said—she wasn’t sick at all. [To get Anna’s protection, Ella has really suffered.] [Playing “porcelain doll” at home every day must be suffocating.] I lowered my eyes. So this was what Ella called suffering? When I looked up again, a familiar figure appeared beside Ella. I couldn’t help but sit up straighter. Did my mother know Ella was faking? The next second, I saw my mother gently tap Ella, her tone reproachful: “What if Anna sees you like this?” My breath caught. Ella pouted impatiently: “I’ve been pretending for fifteen years.” “I’m so tired. Can’t you just stop having Anna pick me up from school? I can get home by myself.” She clung to my mother’s arm, acting cute. In the past, my mother always gave in when Ella acted cute. But this time she shook her head, her tone leaving no room for argument: “No. There are too many dangers on the way to and from school. Anna must protect you!” I looked down at my broken body. Ella’s muttering drifted over: “I’m not really a porcelain doll. Can’t I just relax for this little bit of time?” My mother rarely put on a stern face, even her tone becoming heavy: “I said no and I mean it. You’re a porcelain doll in my eyes, and you can’t get hurt at all!” Their voices gradually faded into the distance. I stood behind the tree, almost turning into a statue. Only when their figures disappeared around the corner did I slowly move my eyes. So it was all fake. They’d lied to me, tricked me into recklessly protecting Ella for fifteen years.

When I got home, cheerful laughter drifted hazily from inside. The moment the key entered the lock, all sound stopped. I struggled to wheel myself through the door. Despite being extremely careful, I almost fell to the floor. I’d begged my mother so many times to have someone remove the threshold at the entrance. She always said okay, okay, okay. But no one ever came. Yet the foam padding on every corner of the house was replaced within a minute if even a single piece was missing. Thinking of what I’d just witnessed, I opened my mouth, my voice hoarse as I called out, “Mother.” No one answered. When I looked up, I found my mother staring coldly at me. She demanded: “Why didn’t you pick Ella up just now?” “Do you know Ella almost got hit by a car on her way home! If I hadn’t happened to be there, Ella would be in the hospital right now!” I looked at my mother’s face, flushed red with anger. I thought inappropriately that my mother really understood me well. Every time she said something like this, I would protect Ella even more carefully out of guilt. Even those floating comments knew it. [This trick of my mother’s never fails. Brilliant!] [After she says this, I feel like Anna would use her life to protect Ella next time.] Once a habit forms, it becomes automatic. I was stunned by my own “I’m sorry.” But my mother’s lips curved with satisfaction, seeming pleased with her tactic. “Since you know you were wrong, go bring Ella’s dinner over right now!” For the first time, I stayed rooted in place. I opened my mouth, wanting to ask why they lied to me. But I never dared to speak. Finally, I said softly: “I’m not feeling well. I want to go to my room to rest…” My mother froze. This was the first time I hadn’t obeyed her. After recovering, she furrowed her brow and raised her voice: “Go bring Ella’s dinner over, then you can rest!” Their eyes both fell on me, the cripple. Various chaotic emotions tangled together. I ignored my mother and turned my wheelchair around to head to my room. But my mother grabbed me. Her expression was ugly: “Anna, what’s wrong with you today!” “You didn’t pick up Ella, and now I ask you to bring Ella her dinner and you won’t do it. Are you trying to kill her!” My gaze swept across the distance from the living room to the kitchen—less than thirty feet. Even if Ella really was a “porcelain doll,” what could possibly happen? My mother followed my gaze and said coldly: “Have you forgotten how Ella got that scar on her head!” I hadn’t forgotten. Of course I hadn’t forgotten. That was the first time I came home in a wheelchair after breaking my leg. Ella went to get her own dinner and tripped. I couldn’t reach her in time. Ella’s head hit the floor, bleeding profusely. My mother and father nervously took her to the hospital. They were gone for half a month. I was forgotten. I could only sit in my wheelchair, struggling to make food for myself. I slept in my wheelchair for that entire half month. But when they came back, the first thing my mother and father did was blame me for not protecting Ella well enough. I raised my head, my eyes filled with a calm close to death: “I’m really tired.”

The pulling force disappeared. My mother instinctively let go. It wasn’t until I returned to my room and closed the door that her dissatisfied muttering drifted over faintly. [Anna is really strange today.] [Could she have found out that Ella being a porcelain doll is fake!] I ignored the shocked comments. My gaze swept across mine and Ella’s room. Bunk beds. She had the bottom, I had the top. Because my mother was afraid she’d be in danger climbing the ladder. I rubbed the thick calluses on my palms. All these years I’d relied on these hands to climb up and down. At first, I fell countless times. I’d asked my mother many times to change to two single beds, but it always came to nothing. It seemed like my requests were never fulfilled. The comments paused for a moment. [Don’t you think Anna is kind of pitiful?] [Pitiful? She’s just a tool to protect Ella. That’s her mission.] I smiled bitterly. The front door opened and closed. My father was home. His first words were usually to ask about Ella. Then, after noticing I wasn’t shadowing and protecting Ella as usual, he’d ask about me. It wasn’t hard to guess what my mother would tell my father. The bedroom door was soon knocked on. “Anna, come out. I have something to say to you.” I didn’t respond. My father quickly lost patience. The door was pushed open forcefully, slamming into the cabinet behind it. That was the only space in the entire room that belonged to me. From the impact, the dance costume and shoes hanging on the cabinet fell to the floor. My father didn’t even look before stepping on them. It lay quietly on the ground. Just like me. “Anna, what kind of tantrum are you throwing today?” my father’s voice was heavy. He was truly angry. My mother snorted coldly behind him: “This girl must be resentful because we keep making her protect Ella!” My father immediately put on a stern face, looking at me disapprovingly: “Anna, you’re the older sister. Isn’t it natural for you to protect Ella?” “What’s more, Ella is a porcelain doll!” What about my father? Did my father know Ella’s illness was fake? The question was almost on my lips, but my father’s voice drowned everything out. “Your mother says you’re tired. What’s so tiring about sitting in a wheelchair all day?” My heart suddenly felt hollow. The answer didn’t seem to matter anymore. I pressed my lips together, silently enduring my parents’ barrage of accusations. Finally, they seemed tired of talking and looked at me with confusion. Probably wondering why I’d suddenly changed. My mother’s eyes were ice-cold: “Fine, be stubborn. You don’t get any steak either!” Being denied food was too normal a punishment. After going hungry enough times, I guess I got used to it. They turned and left the living room without closing the door. The three of them laughed and chatted happily at the dinner table. The comments weren’t as active as before. [Anna’s silhouette is making me cry.] [It’s okay, it’s okay. Tomorrow Anna’s nightmare as a tool will end. After she saves Ella on stage and ends up bedridden, my parents will feel too guilty to make Anna protect Ella anymore.] I stared at the comment before me for a long time, then laughed. Was it because of guilt? It was clearly because I’d be bedridden and unable to protect Ella anymore.

The next day was the anniversary celebration at Ella’s school. This wasn’t my first time attending an event at her school. In fact, I’d been to every one. Whenever Ella went on stage, I had to be by her side. Because my parents worried there might be danger on stage. And because my broken leg forced me to drop out of school. So I was always especially happy to hear I could go to Ella’s school. On the way there, I used to excitedly ask Ella all kinds of questions. But I only ever got perfunctory answers. Today I was unusually silent. My mother glanced at me through the rearview mirror: “It’s been a whole night, Anna. Have you figured it out?” My father’s sharp eyes also locked onto me through the mirror: “If you still haven’t come to your senses, your mother and I will just pretend we don’t have a daughter like you!” I looked out the window, taking a long time before responding. “I’ve figured it out.” I seemed to hear all three of them sigh with relief. They automatically assumed I meant I’d continue protecting Ella properly from now on. My mother turned around with a beaming smile: “I knew my Anna was the most obedient!” My father’s gloomy expression also brightened: “That’s my good daughter!” “In a while, I’ll change those bunk beds in your room to single beds.” So the reason they’d refused to change the beds all along was for today. To reward me after I became their tool once again. Ella ate the snacks my mother had made for her and smiled sweetly. “Then thank you in advance, Anna.” In the past, I would have ruffled Ella’s hair and told her it was no problem. And secretly been pleased by my parents’ praise. But today I only managed a stiff twitch of my lips before turning to look out the window again. At school events, Ella usually performed ballet. After I broke my leg, my mother immediately signed Ella up for classes. Under the stage lights, Ella was like an elegant white swan. Her skin was smooth and fair. Not even a tiny scar anywhere on her body. Below the stage, besides the amazed gazes falling on Ella, there were also disgusted glances occasionally cast my way. “They’re from the same mother—how can the difference be so huge?” “The ugly duckling and the swan, literally!” “Why does Anna have to be on stage? To be laughed at?” The disdainful comments stabbed into my ears like little knives. Just like every time before. Except before, my mind was full of protecting Ella, so I never took these hurtful words to heart. I looked across the distance at my parents. They heard them but acted as if they didn’t. Their proud gazes remained fixed only on Ella. Never once speaking up for me. The comments before my eyes suddenly began scrolling frantically. [Here it comes, here it comes! The chandelier is about to fall!] [Anna, get ready! You have to save Ella!] I looked up at the dazzling chandelier overhead. Sure enough, just like the comments said, it was swaying slightly. And Ella, taking her bows on stage, was directly beneath it. I slowly turned my wheelchair amid my parents’ applause and cheers. The next second, the chandelier fell. I looked up and met my parents’ horrified expressions.

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After three consecutive months of receiving bed photos and videos from my Alpha husband’s lover, I publicly posted all the intimate footage on werewolf social media. My husband’s mistress cried her heart out, screaming that she had no face to show in any Pack anymore. The next second, Logan’s call came through, his voice cold as ice: “Delete it.” I didn’t delete it. Ten minutes later, all my accounts were deactivated. The entire operation—Logan only needed ten minutes. Three days later, he came to me with divorce papers, his fingers caressing the back of my neck as he coerced me softly: “It’s just a trick to placate the little omega. Play along.” I nodded and signed my name. He thought I would cry and beg him to come back like I had countless times before. But he didn’t know—I had long stopped wanting to be the Luna of the Blake Pack. Half an hour after signing the contract. Logan would never know how malicious the thoughts of his innocent, harmless lover truly were. Even though I had already signed the divorce papers, she still hired three Rogues to ambush me on my way to my father’s grave. Claws laced with wolfsbane tore open my abdomen. I couldn’t save my child—the last blood tie between Logan and me was severed. The communicator shrilled just as I came down from the hospital operating table. The anesthesia had barely worn off. The twisting pain in my abdomen and the burning sensation from the wolfsbane forced cold sweat from every pore. I answered through the pain. Logan’s icy voice came through: “Ella, move your things out of the main house.” “Okay.” I agreed readily. Five years as mates, and he’d kept one omega after another on the side. To avoid interfering with his trysts with his lovers, he had his deputy arrange a solitary cabin for me in Black Oak Forest, at the very edge of Blake Pack territory. He said: “When I want to find you, I’ll naturally send someone to fetch you. Without my permission, you’re not to step one foot outside Black Oak Forest.” The last time he knelt before me, forehead pressed against the back of my hand, begging me to move back to the main house. He said he’d reformed, that we’d live well from now on. I foolishly believed him and moved back to what should have been my home. But one week later. At Blake Pack’s Blackstone Club, a young omega server accidentally spilled red wine all over Logan. The omega stumbled to his knees like a startled fawn, apologizing with glistening eyes that happened to catch Logan’s gaze. I stood in the shadows on the second floor and saw the way he looked at her. I knew—he’d fallen again. That night, he took that server to the penthouse suite of the club. The news spread throughout the Northern Wolf Alliance overnight. Once again, I became the laughingstock of all the packs. This omega seemed truly special. For a whole year, Logan never tired of her. Recently, she’d grown even more brazen, sending me photos and videos of her with Logan for three months straight. Every word dripped with her ambition to replace me. Until three hours ago. For the first time, Logan placed the divorce parchment before me, his fingers stroking the top of my head: “It’s just for show. Be good, don’t make me angry.” My eyes reddened as I hesitated to put pen to paper. No matter how outrageous his behavior before, this document symbolizing complete severance had never appeared. But now, he stroked my head methodically, as if soothing a bristling kitten. I knew better than anyone the consequences of angering Logan. Just like this time—with a flick of his fingers, he could solve all the troubles for that omega named Mia. So I signed my name, leaving only one word: “Okay.” Returning to the main house, I didn’t see Logan or Mia. Old Mabel, the housekeeper, immediately approached when she saw me: “Miss? How was the prenatal checkup? Is the baby alright?” My face turned ashen as I shook my head. I had originally planned to tell Logan tonight that I was pregnant. But in just a few short days, I had lost this child. “I was attacked.” Under Mabel’s shocked gaze, I slowly spoke, “Even if I hadn’t been attacked, this child wouldn’t have been born into happiness.” Before Mabel could respond, the main house door was kicked open. Mia wore Logan’s black trench coat, carrying a pile of luxury gift boxes, with a dozen bodyguards behind her also laden with packages. Seeing me, Mia showed no surprise. She lazily leaned against my chair, smiling sweetly, though her words were laced with poison. “I’ve never understood—Logan treats you like this, yet you still won’t leave. What are you clinging to?” “Yesterday I said I wanted strawberries, and he braved a blizzard to run fifty kilometers to pick them for me. Have you ever received that kind of treatment?” I fell silent for a moment. Yesterday was the memorial day for my father, the former Alpha of Blake Pack. When I contacted Logan, he told me he was too busy. Turns out, he was busy picking strawberries for Mia.

I clenched my clothes tighter. Once upon a time, Logan was the person who loved me most, aside from my parents. He was my father’s most trusted Beta deputy. Since I was ten years old, he had always stood silently behind me. He said: “My duty is to protect Ella.” When I was a child with a fever of 104 degrees and the pack doctor was helpless, he carried me thirty kilometers through a rainstorm to find the best physician, staying by my bedside all night. When our territory was attacked by a bear pack, he shielded me with his body, letting bear claws tear open his back, blood soaking through his clothes. He endured the pain without a sound, still gently comforting my terrified self. On my coming-of-age ceremony, my father gave us his blessing. He placed the black wolf fang necklace symbolizing Blake Pack’s authority around Logan’s neck. “If you ever change your heart, I won’t hesitate to take her away. My daughter has never lacked for people to love her.” Logan clenched his fists and solemnly promised he would never change. He said: “I want to make you the happiest person in the world.” Our relationship was the envy of the entire Northern Wolf Alliance. One year after our marriage, my father died accidentally during a hunt, and Logan took over all Blake Pack affairs. Pack business was overwhelming. He collapsed into the hospital several times from exhaustion after taking office. I felt so sorry for him that I learned to cook, hoping to ease some of his fatigue. And every time he returned from a hunt, he would bring me a bouquet of my favorite lilies, saying these were flowers filled with love. He would watch the stars with me and hold me as I fell asleep. When exactly did everything change? I think it was probably after he completely transformed into the unquestionable Alpha of Blake Pack. He began having endless social obligations, spending every day at the Blackstone Club. When he came home, he reeked of pungent, unfamiliar perfume. Facing my questioning, he smiled and explained: “It rubbed off from people the cooperating pack leaders brought. Don’t overthink it.” He used one clumsy excuse after another, wearing down my unreserved trust time and again. Until he completely controlled Blake Pack’s power and subdued all the elders who opposed him—then he stopped bothering to pretend. And I foolishly remained immersed in the prison of love he wove for me. The first time I caught him cheating was at the full moon hunt victory banquet. At the feast, he was nowhere to be seen for a long time. Pack members had already started gossiping, so I had no choice but to check his location and discovered he was at the pack headquarters. All along the way, I grumbled about him not taking care of his health. When I pushed open the office door, I was still holding a cake I’d made myself. But on his desk sat the remains of a candlelit dinner, and clothing was scattered all over the floor. When I kicked open the door, Logan’s face showed not a trace of panic. He gently covered the person beneath him with a blanket, casually wrapped a towel around himself, and when he looked up at me, his eyes were as cold and indifferent as a block of ice. “Close the door. If you have no shame, she still does.” His composure made me look like a pathetic clown. I rushed forward like a madwoman to drag out the mistress, but Logan slapped me so hard I saw stars. In the chaos, I saw clearly the woman on the bed— it was the omega nurse who had changed his bandages the last time he’d collapsed into the hospital. The little nurse was terrified, tears streaming down her face: “Luna Ella, don’t misunderstand. I only came to deliver healing herbs. We had some drinks, and in our confusion…” Logan pressed his lips together, his cold eyes fixed on me: “Ella, I’m warning you, don’t lay a finger on her.” So his lilies filled with love were nothing more than casual compensation after his wild revelries outside.

From then on, the women around him changed one after another. He no longer cared about anything to do with me, finding even my existence annoying. It seemed only business profits and different omegas to bed could make him feel the meaning of life. I gradually became numb in the enormous sense of loss. Until one day, I no longer expected him to appear before me. I ignored Mia’s cold mockery and sarcasm, turned to go upstairs to get my black wolf pendant and documents, then hurried back down. Coming downstairs, I saw Mia rifling through the bag I’d left on the sofa. My breathing hitched as I rushed forward and snatched the bag back. Mia spread her hands and rolled her eyes: “Nothing valuable anyway. Why so nervous?” I felt for the hospital report at the very bottom of the bag and breathed a sigh of relief. Mia walked up to me and suddenly grinned: “I heard you encountered a Rogue attack yesterday. You’re really lucky to be alive. You look perfectly fine.” Looking at her smug face, I was about to step forward and teach this lowly omega a lesson, when Logan returned. He glanced at me, his tone casual: “Did you drop something?” I smiled and smoothly tucked the documents back into my bag: “Nothing.” Logan fell silent for a moment. Just as I lifted my foot to leave, he pulled out two black cards and held them before me. “Border Fortress Hotel presidential suite. Stay there for now. Yesterday… I really was busy.” Busy? Busy picking strawberries for Mia counted as business? At this moment, I only found the man before me utterly disgusting. I smiled sweetly, and the next second, delivered a resounding slap across Logan’s face. I shook my numb palm, my smile unchanged: “Logan, you’re truly disgusting. A Beta deputy who rose through the old Alpha’s favor, who by chance took the Alpha position—have you forgotten how you once begged me to help you stabilize the opposing forces?” I had never spoken words so cutting to him before. Logan didn’t strike back, but his expression darkened instantly, his gaze growing ominous. Before he could react, Mia grabbed the ashtray from the table and smashed it hard against my head. Warm blood flowed down from my temple. My head spun, and the living room lights suddenly became unbearably bright. Mabel rushed forward to support me, shouting anxiously at Logan: “Alpha Logan, don’t you know that Luna Ella she…” I stopped Mabel. “Mabel, I’m fine.” The man before me showed no reaction, only casually glancing at Mabel, his voice cold and cutting: “Mabel, remember clearly whose servant you are. Since she’s already divorced me, she’s no longer Blake Pack’s Luna.” Mabel looked at me anxiously. I gently shook my head. Saying anything to him now was meaningless. He was no longer the Logan who would smile and bend down to listen to me. Logan nervously held Mia’s slightly trembling hand, his tone tender enough to drip water: “Does your hand hurt from hitting her? Did any glass cut you?” Mia sobbed softly and shook her head: “It doesn’t hurt… I just couldn’t stand seeing someone bully you…” The light illuminated the gentleness in his eyes as he looked at Mia: “Silly girl, bullying me doesn’t matter, but I can’t let you be wronged.” Hearing this, Mia immediately became smug, her eyes full of provocation as she looked at me: “For that slap just now, I’ll return it to you tenfold.” Seeing Logan say nothing, Mia shook his arm coquettishly: “You’re Blake Pack’s Alpha. If word gets out that you were slapped, how humiliating would that be? How could you command respect?” Logan still didn’t relent. Seeing this, Mia stood on tiptoe and whispered something in his ear. Logan finally smiled with satisfaction, wrapping his arm around Mia’s waist and kissing her lightly on the lips: “Alright, I’ll listen to you.” I staggered back several steps, staring at the two people before me in disbelief. The bodyguards immediately shoved Mabel aside roughly and stepped forward to grip my wrists tightly. I began struggling frantically, but was frozen in place by Logan’s fierce gaze: “Logan! You…”

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I’m the ultimate sidekick to a billionaire heiress. She calls me her “bestie,” swipes her black card to buy me clothes and bags, and I never, ever have to pay when we go shopping. Lately, the heiress has a crush on the campus heartthrob. She told me to go after him. “I know he and I are from different worlds and it would never work out, but it would kill me to see someone else snag him. You go after him, I’m giving him to you.” ??? Emergency! How do I tell her that I literally just slept with her older brother? 01 “Chloe, you’re my absolute best friend. Everyone else just wants my money, but you’re the only one who doesn’t want anything from me.” The heiress, Serena, linked her arm through mine and affectionately rested her head on my shoulder. Hearing her say that… I felt incredibly guilty. Because not only did I want her money, I also wanted her brother. Back in high school, I saw her older brother come to pick her up. His face, his build—he looked better than a runway model. When he looked down and stubbed out his cigarette, that jawline struck me right in the heart! So, I latched onto Serena. She had a ton of fair-weather friends, but after a thorough screening, I was the only one left standing. Being friends with an heiress is honestly amazing. Just by sticking with her, I got chauffeured in luxury cars, had bills paid without a second glance at the price tag, and as a girl from an ordinary, working-class family, I got to experience a completely different lifestyle. I studied my ass off just to get into the same university as her. I simply refused to give up this kind of life. “Chloe, I really, really like Noah,” Serena said, looking anxious and insecure lately. As her loyal minion, I immediately agreed: “He’s totally worth liking! He’s gorgeous, super smart, his only flaw is that his family background is a bit ordinary, like mine.” Honestly, he was just a regular guy from an ordinary family. Noah was incredibly popular on campus. But to a billionaire heiress, he really wasn’t enough. “I know we’re destined not to be together, but it would kill me to see someone else snag him. You go after him, I’m giving him to you.” She stopped walking, as if she had made a firm decision. Then she cupped my face and smiled, poking my dimple: “My Chloe is so pretty, snagging Noah will be a piece of cake!” Seeing her serious expression, I started to panic. Help, Serena, how do I tell you… I just slept with your brother last night… My legs are still jelly… 02 Putting myself in Serena’s shoes for a second, I felt like a total piece of trash. So, I forced a stiff smile: “Ah, Noah isn’t really my type.” “Didn’t you just say he was totally worth liking?” Serena gave me a suspicious look. “That doesn’t feel right. He’s the guy you like, after all…” I squirmed, trying to talk her out of this absurd idea. “So, if he ends up with someone else, I’d be devastated. But if he’s with you, I’ll just feel like my bestie found a great guy, and I’ll be able to let it go…” The more sincere her smile was… The more guilty I felt. I thought for a second, my brain working in overdrive: “Compared to Noah, I actually think your brother is way hotter. Could I try going after your brother instead…” I asked, half-joking, half-serious. She waved her hand dismissively: “Forget it. My brother will definitely end up accepting an arranged marriage set up by our family. My parents are already looking for a fiancée for him. Going after my brother is doomed to fail, just like me and Noah. The gap is too wide.” My head spun for a moment. Actually, I’ve known this would be the outcome for a very long time. I understood this reality, and even comforted myself by thinking I hadn’t lost anything. It was a passionate fling, I got to experience the best, and that was enough. “Let me think about it…” I lowered my head, my voice muffled. “Chloe, trust me, Noah is really worth it. You two are from the same world.” … Right. Ordinary people from the same world. I shouldn’t ask for too much. Sleeping with Liam for this long was already a massive win. “If you really don’t mind, then I’ll go after him.” 03 Liam had been really busy lately. Sometimes he would lower his voice to take calls. His family was probably pressuring him. As his unqualified, secret girlfriend, I didn’t even have the right to step foot in his family’s home. “Good girl, Chloe.” I gathered my emotions, smiled brightly, took the shopping list Serena gave me, and went to buy her things. She sent me Noah’s Snapchat contact. Followed by a “You got this!” sticker. She had a gala to attend that night, a highly exclusive one. I wasn’t qualified to go. After we parted ways, I thought about it. I crouched by the side of the road, drafting a breakup text. I wrote, deleted, and revised a thousand-word essay for a long time, but still couldn’t bring myself to send it. My thrilling, one-year secret romance was finally coming to an end. “What kind of sweet nothings take half an hour to type?” Liam sent a voice memo first, his voice still that magnetic, seductive baritone. I let out a soft sigh. I deleted the essay. I was just a secret lover; what right did I have to initiate a breakup? To people like them, being dumped by someone like me would be an insult. “I missed my hubby.” I chickened out again. I typed a perfunctory reply. I was shameless. I knew Liam could never marry me, but I always called him “hubby.” He wasn’t used to it at first, but later he grew to like it. He was typing. I was faster, sending another message. “Hubby, there’s a bag I really want lately, it’s twenty thousand dollars. I want it… purr purr~” I attached a sticker of a cute kitten aggressively nuzzling its owner. Being with Liam, I never lacked for money. He gave me even more than Serena did. 04 But this was the first time I explicitly asked for a bag. We had just slept together last night, and during the day I’m asking for a twenty-thousand-dollar bag. No matter how you look at it, I seem like a gold digger only after his money. To my surprise, he transferred the money without hesitation. “Go spend it.” Looking at the twenty thousand, tears immediately fell from my eyes. Maybe in Liam’s eyes, this was our ideal dynamic. I was just a woman trying to get money out of him. This was also the most comfortable arrangement for him. If I kept clinging to him demanding love, that would be ridiculous. I cried for a bit. Then I picked up my phone and typed again. “Hubby is so generous. Can hubby buy me an apartment? In the Upper East Side, I want to live there.” “How much.” He replied incredibly fast. I looked up the housing prices in that area and gasped. Ten million, starting. “Nine million.” I let out a scoff, ultimately not typing “one hundred million.” I could already picture him frowning at the message, confirming that I truly was a gold digger. “I’ll have Mark take you there tomorrow to handle the paperwork.” ??? I shot up from my crouch. Are you kidding me, bro?! This didn’t even make you mad? My mind was a chaotic mess. I simply turned off my phone, refusing to think about it anymore. The next day, Serena asked me how my progress was. Only then did I realize Noah hadn’t even added me back. “Progress: -1.” “?” “He hasn’t added me back.” “Ugh, he’s just like that. It took him five hours to add me back too.” I patiently chatted with her for a long time. Serena had a hangover from last night, a perfect opportunity for me to show my worth and offer some warmth. But thinking about Liam made me inexplicably sad. That afternoon, just as I walked out of the library, Mark called. He said the paperwork was ready and told me to come sign it. 05 Is this for real? I braced myself and got into the car. The mocking I expected didn’t happen. Mark respectfully brought me to the sales office. Into the VIP Client Manager’s office. “I’m really signing this?” I really wanted to ask. We were already here. Wasn’t he going to furiously mock me for being a gold digger? Mark, looking perplexed, pushed the contract towards me: “Although Mr. Sterling had his eye on a different building, he said this one is closer to you, making it more convenient.” I glanced at the contract. My name. I sighed and put down the pen: “I’m sorry, I don’t want it anymore.” Mark looked completely bewildered. The Client Manager looked like she had been struck by lightning. “Ma’am, if you have any concerns, please let me know. I will do my absolute best to resolve any issues perfectly.” The money could be refunded. But a house… that was too messy a tie. What was Liam thinking, actually agreeing to buy a house? I ended up running away. Accepting a house while dating and not being able to return it after a breakup was too much of a hassle. “You don’t like it?” Liam called. His voice had that same magnetic, intoxicating calm. “I don’t like it. Liam, I’ve thought about it. Let’s break up. You don’t like me anymore anyway.” 06 What was I hesitating for? With these rich playboys, the messier the breakup, the more they hate you. If they don’t hate you, it’s even simpler. Just talk money, break up, and they find someone else. After I said that, the phone was silent for a long time. I pulled it away from my ear and glanced at it; the call timer was still running. So I hung up with a click. Then blocked and deleted his number in one smooth motion. I tried to look relaxed as I returned to my dorm. Serena predictably texted, urging me on. Feeling helpless, I tapped on Noah’s Snapchat. Wait, contact cards require you to click ‘Add Friend’? This time, when I sent the request, the other side accepted instantly. Then a “Hello” sticker flashed across the screen. I was feeling pretty down at the moment. With a wicked sense of humor, I replied with a dozen dramatic meme stickers, stringing them together to say: “See this flower? I’d rather throw it away than give it to you…” After sending them, I stared blankly at my phone. According to Serena’s demands, to go after Noah… I should be sweet-talking him. But I just didn’t have the energy. I wanted to cry so badly, but I held it in. “That’s okay, where did you throw it?” “I’ll go pick it up.” Noah sent a voice message. 07 As the campus heartthrob, Noah’s voice had a boyish quality—a lazy, clear, sunny tone. Completely different from Liam’s deep, magnetic, mature voice. And that sentence he just said was undeniably flirtatious. The key point being, he didn’t even know who I was. Based purely on my avatar—a dark, edgy little black rabbit. There was absolutely nothing flirtatious about it. …So this guy really wasn’t picky at all. Flirting with anyone who came his way. A true “cast a wide net” kind of guy. The guy Serena liked turned out to be just like this. “Did he accept? Send me a screenshot.” Serena texted. 08 I was too embarrassed to screenshot my own meme spam, afraid she would scold me. When I sent the screenshot, she asked, completely confused: “Noah actually sends meme stickers? And he initiated it? Babe, I’m shipping this so hard.” If you heard the voice message, you’d ship it even harder. I wanted to block and delete Noah too, but I held back. After breaking up with Liam, I basically stopped going out. Every day, I just shuttled between three places. If I wasn’t studying, I was eating or sleeping. I didn’t even have the energy to cater to Serena. “Chloe, go to The Lumière Room tonight. I have a party later, wait for me in the lobby. It’ll be too late to get a car. You have to come.” Serena issued a command. It was an absolute order. Since I was no longer with Liam, I figured I shouldn’t continue being Serena’s minion. What if I ran into Liam? I’d be exposed. Serena’s revenge would likely be terrifying. I didn’t want to go. But she didn’t give me a chance to refuse. “Oh right, Chloe. Noah doesn’t seem to be poor. I just saw him appear next to Mr. Vanderbilt. I think he’s Mr. Vanderbilt’s grandson? Look into his background for me. Don’t go after him for now.” Serena called. Her tone was very excited. I sighed in relief. Finally, I was off the hook from this ridiculous pursuit. I quickly nodded: “Should I delete him then? Honestly, I always thought you two were a match made in heaven. Now that you’re from the same world, isn’t that even better? That’s amazing.” “Then delete him, Chloe. I know you don’t like him anyway, so we won’t force it.” Serena smiled. “Oh, screen record yourself blocking and deleting him for me. I want to know you truly don’t care.” “Okay.” I had been too dismissive the past couple of days. Now that Serena was hungover and dizzy, it was originally a great opportunity for me to show my worth and provide some comfort. But thinking of Liam made me inexplicably sad. I hung up the phone, started screen recording, blocked and deleted Noah. Then I sent the screenshot of my blocked list to her to check. I suddenly had a bad feeling. I checked my phone, and the feeling grew stronger! Holy shit! I told you I forgot something! 09

During my senior year of high school, my parents cut off all my financial support to force me to drop out. With nowhere else to go, I managed to enroll in an elite, tuition-free private prep school full of insanely wealthy kids. The catch? I still needed money for food. After starving for half a month, wearing my most threadbare clothes, I finally mustered the courage. I looked at the class of trust-fund babies who never studied: “Does anyone… does anyone need their homework done? One assignment… just five dollars.” The kids, who had been busy flexing their wealth, stopped messing around and stared at me in shock. A moment later, a cacophony of voices erupted: “Five dollars? Who do you think you’re insulting? Five hundred! Do mine first!” “I bid five thousand! Put me first in line!” “Fifty thousand! In cash!” “Name your price! I want to see who dares outbid me today!” 01 I was kicked out of my house right at the beginning of my senior year. My dad, his face twisted in anger, pointed a finger right at my nose and yelled: “Other girls your age are already working and bringing money home. But you? You just drain my wallet all day long. You’re nothing but a money pit.” My mom chimed in with her usual “practical” advice: “If you don’t start working now, where are we going to get the money for your brother’s college tuition later?” After screaming myself hoarse while clutching my stack of academic awards, I realized arguing was pointless. I ran away from that house. My dad’s voice chased after me, mocking: “Let’s see how you make it to college without us supporting you!” I took my transcripts and bounced around several public high schools. The response was always the same: “Your grades are good, but who knows if they’ll drop during senior year?” “We can only offer a tuition waiver.” That wasn’t enough. I needed to eat. Clutching my last shred of hope, I stood in front of St. Jude’s Preparatory Academy. This place was exclusively for the children of the ultra-rich. Trust-fund babies everywhere. Every day, if they weren’t fighting, they were showing off their wealth. Nobody studied. In their world, the SATs were just a formality. They were all going to expensive private colleges or studying abroad anyway. When I stood timidly in the principal’s office, wearing clothes washed so many times the hems were frayed, the Dean of Students looked down her nose at me: “Are you sure you want to be here? Aren’t you afraid of being bullied?” I shook my head vigorously: “As long as you can waive my tuition and give me a tiny bit of a stipend… ” “Really, just a tiny bit… Three hundred, no, just a hundred dollars a month is fine. I promise to study hard and bring honor to the school with my test scores.” The Dean agreed. I took the $10,000 scholarship advance, thanked her profusely, and backed out of the room. The moment I stepped out the door, I heard her scoff in disgust: “A hundred bucks a month? Who is she trying to insult?” 02 I successfully took my place in the classroom. The noisy chatter of the rich kids paused, and they all examined me with curious eyes. “What is she wearing? Why are there holes in it? Did Louis Vuitton release a new ‘war-torn’ collection?” “Why not Chanel?” “The fabric is actually holding together despite being so worn. It can’t be a designer brand. Only cheap flea market clothes have that kind of durability.” “Oh, you know so much about it. Have you worn them?” “How dare you accuse me of wearing flea market trash! You’re dead! I’ll have my dad pull his investments from your family’s company tomorrow…” Two rich kids started brawling on the floor. I kept my composure, walked past them, and headed to my seat. It was located in the back corner of the classroom, right next to the trash can. I blocked out all the gossip and whispers. No matter how nasty their words were, I had heard worse from my own parents. What did the mockery of a bunch of spoiled rich kids matter? Now, I had a place to study and the right to take my college entrance exams. No one in the class bullied me. During passing periods, a pretty girl even ran over to my desk, looking at me like I was a novelty. Then she asked curiously: “Chloe, why are you wearing such torn clothes? Do you not like this season’s haute couture?” “Is it possible that I just can’t afford haute couture?” “Why can’t you afford it? Did your parents cut off your allowance? You can still draw from your trust fund, right?” I sighed softly. What’s a trust fund? Serena rested her chin on her hands and looked at me: “How did you get to school today?” “I walked. I woke up really early.” “Why didn’t you have your driver take you?” “I don’t have a car or a driver.” “Why didn’t you ride your motorcycle?” “I don’t have a motorcycle either.” “Oh, I get it. You only like taking helicopters, and your helicopter broke down this morning, so you couldn’t fly it, right?” I hid my face behind my book. Never mind, there was no way to explain it to her. 03 Two weeks into the semester, I was practically invisible. Every day, I shrank into the corner of the classroom, working hard on practice tests and studying. Gradually, the teachers began to appreciate me more and more. Because I was the only person in class actually paying attention. Not only did I listen carefully, but I also occasionally raised my hand to answer their questions so they wouldn’t feel awkward talking to a silent room. But my concentration was slipping more and more. I was starving. So hungry I wanted to gnaw on the desk. Although my tuition was fully covered, I still needed a place to live. The Dean had strictly refused to let me live in the dorms, saying my background was too poor and the rich kids wouldn’t accept it. I had no choice but to rent a place off-campus. Rent was unbelievably expensive. After begging and pleading, the landlord reluctantly agreed to take six months’ rent upfront. My $10,000 scholarship instantly shrank to $500. In a city where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold, I could only afford a tiny attic in a remote suburb. After paying $500 for utilities, I was broke. With my current grades, I couldn’t guarantee getting into an Ivy League school, so I didn’t dare ask the Dean for another advance on my scholarship. Because of my terrible living situation, my study time was compressed to almost nothing. Despite my desperate efforts to catch up, my scores on the last junior year finals were only good enough for a decent state university. I didn’t miraculously transform into a protagonist from a teen movie, easily getting a perfect score while juggling a romance and barely studying. My stomach hadn’t seen food in over eight hours. My breakfast today had been a piece of seared steak and half a tuna sandwich I dug out of the school trash can. It was delicious, but the portion was tiny. I pursed my lips and looked up at my classmates, who were getting ready to leave for the day. They were discussing where to play golf or whether to take a yacht out for a party. I pinched myself hard, gathered every ounce of courage I had, and asked timidly: “Does anyone… does anyone need their homework done? One assignment… just five dollars.” 04 I had never seen these rich kids write an essay or do a worksheet. Every time the teacher assigned homework, I was the only one who carefully wrote it down, then went back to my sweltering rental and diligently finished it under a salvaged desk lamp. After I asked my question. The rich kids, who had been busy flexing their wealth, stopped messing around and stared at me in shock. Serena’s voice rang out in disbelief: “Class President, you actually do the homework?” Ever since I received high praise from all the teachers, I had been promoted to Class President. Consequently, all the classroom cleaning duties fell on my shoulders. My voice was as small as a mosquito’s hum: “Yes. I write fast and well, and my accuracy is high. If you guys are looking for someone to do your homework, you can consider me first.” “I don’t charge much. Just five dollars an assignment. Buy five, get one free.” Considering they all came from business families, and I had overheard a lot, I quickly added: “Prices are negotiable.” Shock cracked across everyone’s faces. A moment later, they reacted, and a cacophony of voices erupted: “Five dollars? Who do you think you’re insulting? Five hundred! Do mine first! Let my dad open his eyes and see that his son is a student who loves learning.” “You have the nerve to say five hundred? I bid five thousand! Put me first in line!” “Fifty thousand! In cash! The one thing I’m not short on is money!” “Name your price! I want to see who dares outbid me today!” 05 The classroom descended into chaos. Their bids got more and more ridiculous. As if what I was writing wasn’t homework, but an original Shakespeare manuscript. I quickly waved my hands to stop them: “Just five dollars. I can’t take more. If you want me to write it, I’ll go one by one in the order you agreed to.” “It’s all STEM subjects anyway, it goes fast.” In business, a steady stream is better than a quick flood. I was afraid that if I took too much, their parents would find out, and that would be bad. After all, when I did homework for money in my freshman year, I took a rush order for six dollars, and the classmate’s parents checked their bank statements and found out. The next day, they blocked my door and cursed me out for a long time. The shouting continued, but Serena snatched the first spot. She smugly Venmo’d me twenty dollars. My secondhand phone lagged for a long time before the transfer finally went through. Staring at the twenty-dollar balance, I excitedly promised her: “Don’t worry, Ms. Serena. I promise to write your homework beautifully tonight.” That day, I made one hundred dollars. I took five orders. I stayed up until 1 AM doing homework. To guarantee quality, I never took on too much. The next day after school, looking at the fresh hundred dollars in my account, I was just about to shoulder the Chanel backpack I had fished out of the trash and rush home. The richest, most hot-tempered girl in the class blocked my path. She touched her diamond-encrusted manicure, pouted her lips at her two lackeys, and ordered: “Drag her to the bathroom for me!” 06 Even the bathrooms at St. Jude’s Preparatory Academy were brighter and more spacious than my suburban attic. But my forehead was dripping with cold sweat. Everyone had gone home; rarely anyone came to the bathroom now. Was she going to bully me? But I didn’t know how I had offended her. Since transferring to this school, I had been the most invisible existence. Every day, I tried my best to minimize my presence to avoid drawing their attention. Even when they flaunted their wealth in front of me, I would stare at the dizzying array of logos and quickly blurt out how beautiful they were, and how expensive they must have been. Then they would say with satisfaction: “It’s not expensive. Only a country bumpkin like you would think it’s expensive. This bag isn’t even a million dollars.” The money I made writing one assignment couldn’t even buy a single thread on those bags. Blair Waldorf—no, Blair Stanton—smiled sinisterly, reaching out to lift my chin: “You’re the Class President…” She dragged out her words. My heart pounded like a drum. I frantically recalled the past month and a half since I transferred. I hadn’t had any conflicts with Blair. Every time she showed off her wealth, I made sure to look envious and offer a few compliments. Last night, I took her five dollars and handed in the homework on time. No delays. The fiancé her family arranged for her was also in our class. The only thing I had ever said to him was: “Excuse me, Blair asked me to tell you that she’s waiting for you downstairs to take the yacht out.” I truly couldn’t think of how I had offended her. Her two friends gripping my arms held me tight; I couldn’t move. I thought to myself: If worst comes to worst, I’ll just drink some toilet water and beg for mercy until she cools down. As long as I can stay here and keep studying. Blair unhurriedly took out her phone, her manicure tapping the screen, making a chilling click-clack sound. Her crisp voice sounded above my head: “In a minute, remember what you should and shouldn’t say!” 07 To my absolute terror, she made a phone call. An authoritative middle-aged man’s voice came through: “Blair, sweetie, what’s wrong?” “Daddy, I really did my homework yesterday! My fingers still hurt! If you don’t believe me, ask our Class President. She’s aiming for a perfect SAT score, you know.” After saying that, she shoved the phone in my face. At the same time, she gave me a vicious glare. I swallowed hard. “Hello, sir. I’m Chloe, the… the Class President. Um… Blair really did her own homework.” “Is that so? When did she do it?” My brain went into overdrive. Yesterday, Blair went out on a yacht. There were definitely no witnesses out on the ocean. “Sir, yesterday after school, Blair said she wanted to study hard, so she stayed at school to do her homework.” Blair finally nodded in satisfaction: “Hear that, Daddy? I really did my homework.” “Haha, that’s my girl. Finally focusing on her studies! From now on, I’ll give you an extra million dollars a month in allowance as a reward!” Blair hung up the phone triumphantly. “You’re smart. I’m the only daughter of the Stanton Group. My dad only has me. He doesn’t have any illegitimate children, so the Stanton family is mine for the taking.” “From now on, you will do my homework every day. Don’t worry, I won’t treat you badly.” “But if you dare cross me, watch your back!” I nodded like a chicken pecking at grain. The two pairs of hands holding me let go, and Blair strutted away in her stilettos. Once she was out of sight, I finally dared to pick up my backpack from the floor and hurried home, still shaken. Because of the delay, by the time I navigated my way home, the sky was already turning dark. I was thinking about the homework I had to do tonight, walking very fast. Just as I stepped into my rundown apartment building, two figures seemed to have been waiting downstairs for a long time. My dad’s chilling voice rang out: “You ran away for a month, and I finally found where you were hiding!” 08 My legs felt like lead, so heavy I could barely take a step. The memories of those days when he beat me flashed before my eyes one by one. He stepped forward, snatched my backpack, and slapped me hard across the face. I was thrown several feet away. My dad cursed aggressively: “You think you’re so smart, running a hundred miles away to secretly go to school.” “I raised you, you ate my food, spent my money. You haven’t brought a single penny home, and you dare run away?” “I’ve already accepted the bride price, thirty-eight thousand eight hundred. Just waiting for you to go back and get engaged.” “Today, you’re coming home with me whether you want to or not.” In the stifling early autumn heat, I could even feel his spit hitting my face. Only then did I notice a beat-up van parked next to the apartment complex. Dilapidated, the windows completely covered. My dad waved his hand impatiently: “Hurry up, drag her into the van, we still have to hit the road!” A few people rushed out of the van. I looked closely. They were relatives of mine. Even though my family wasn’t exactly starving, my dad strongly opposed me studying. Especially after my younger brother failed to get into a good high school last year, and my dad went broke sending him to a private school, it only fueled his determination to make me drop out. I didn’t have any friends here. The only people I knew were my classmates. Watching them get closer and closer, I quickly pulled out my phone. It was the one Blair had tossed to me that afternoon. It was her old, latest-model phone. She said it was a reward for me knowing my place. The phone was smooth and fast. I quickly opened the class group chat, where everyone was chatting excitedly. “Yachts are boring. It’s always the same thing, so dull.” “Look at my new complete set of action figures. I spent over three million on this. [Image.jpg]” “I heard the Stanton heiress got an allowance bump. Are we renting out the golf course tomorrow?” “Let’s go horseback riding instead. My little pony hasn’t seen me in days, he must miss me.” Amidst the chatter. I inappropriately sent a voice message, my voice filled with tears and panic: “It’s Chloe. My dad is forcing me to drop out and go home to get married. My phone has GPS. Please, please come save me.”

In high school, there was a rich kid in our class. Filthy rich. He was always treating everyone. Fried chicken every three days, burgers every five. The year he was most generous, he lost a bet and casually handed ten grand to a random girl on the street. I relied on that money to finish high school and get into college. Only later did I find out that the “rich kid” persona was fake, and losing the bet was a lie too. All there was, was a teenage boy’s awkward, hidden, and unspoken crush. Four years later, his family went bankrupt, and he was living on the streets. I crouched in front of him and held out my hand: “Hey, wanna come with me?” 01 I have a notebook hidden in the deepest corner of my desk. It records all my wishes, big and small. The earliest one was: “I don’t want to be beaten with a stick anymore.” So, when I was ten, my mother resolutely filed for divorce. She took me and fled from my abusive father, escaping that small, backwoods town where I would have been sold off for a bride price by the time I was fifteen. My mother made that wish come true. The second one was: “I want to go to school.” From then on, my mother worked three jobs a day—washing dishes during the day, running a street stall at night. She begged people to get my residency sorted out and sent me to school. In my young eyes, my mother was omnipotent; there was nothing she couldn’t do. “I want a scarf that doesn’t pill.” “A two-dollar duck hair clip.” “Gloves that actually keep my hands warm.” I continued to write down my wishes in my childish handwriting. Until the twenty-eighth one: “I want to eat a delicious birthday cake with Mom.” My omnipotent mother didn’t make this wish come true. She suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage on the way to buy the cake and was rushed to the ER. I borrowed a lot of money, prayed to every god, and cried until the world spun, but it was all useless. When I was fifteen, I lost my last remaining family member. 02 That notebook was sealed away for a year. When I opened it again, I was already a junior in high school. The wishes in the notebook gradually became more trivial and frequent: “To finish all my worksheets before 10 PM.” “To rank in the top five in the grade on the day after tomorrow’s midterm.” “To find another part-time job at night to pay next semester’s tuition.” Left all alone, I started fulfilling my own wishes. But occasionally, a little random thought would pop out in the notebook: “My desk mate ordered Popeyes for lunch again. What does it taste like? It smells so good. Is it delicious?” “A friend invited me to see a movie tonight. It’s supposed to be the kind I like, but the tickets are too expensive.” “I want to adopt a kitten. Never mind, I couldn’t take good care of it.” Financially strapped, having to budget carefully even for meals, these wishes were too luxurious for me. Later, a rich kid transferred from the class next door. His name was Liam. The first time we met, he treated the whole class to Popeyes. A week later, with a wave of his hand, he rented out an entire movie theater for the class. The class cheered, hailing him as the biggest baller in the whole school. Behind his back, though, they mocked him for having more money than sense and trying to show off. Those ignored, random wishes were quietly being fulfilled just like that. In my heart, I gave Liam a nickname: The Genie. Liam the Genie. And I was the impoverished Aladdin. Only, my Genie was exceptionally generous, exceptionally giving. The pizza place I had walked past several times but couldn’t bear to go into? He treated the whole class to it every few days. My Genie seemed to have no three-wish limit. Every wish in my notebook was meticulously fulfilled by him. In the summer, he bought ice cream; in the winter, he brought hot cocoa. I learned what those heavily advertised fast-food chains tasted like. I was able to join the crowd when classmates talked about the most popular movies. Even the bitter cold that terrified me—he personally gifted me a down jacket. That was my most dignified winter. My ears didn’t get frostbite, and my fingers didn’t get chilblains. Near the end of my junior year, I wrote out a withdrawal application. The people I borrowed the three thousand dollars from for my mother’s medical bills were showing up at my door every day, hounding me until I was physically and mentally exhausted. I packed my bags, ready to head south to work in a factory. The day before I left, I ran into Liam. He had lost a bet and had to give the first girl who walked by ten thousand dollars. And I was that girl. He shoved the money at me without a word: “Hey, don’t make me break my promise. It’s just a little money, not even enough for you to buy a new outfit.” The crumbs that fall through the fingers of the rich are enough for the poor to work a lifetime for. I used that money to pay off the debt, finished high school, and got into college. In my plain and simple value system: Aladdin’s Genie was omnipotent. Liam was also omnipotent. 03 So, when I heard that Liam had been kicked out by his family and was living on the streets… I was stunned for a long time. By this time, I had already graduated from college. Using the money I saved from working, I opened a small diner. Messages flooded the class group chat: “I heard his family went bankrupt. His dad took all the money and ran off with his mistress, leaving him all alone.” “He was originally abroad, but he just dropped out and was sent back. I don’t think he even got his degree.” “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Remember how rich he was in high school? Now he doesn’t even have a place to live. What goes around comes around.” When I found Liam, he was sitting on a park bench, staring blankly into the distance. The person in front of me was a little different from my memory. His features, always proud and sharp, were slightly lowered now, revealing an inexplicable calmness. I slowed my pace, hesitating whether to go over. He had already sharply lifted his head. After four years apart, we faced each other in this quiet, secluded park, bathed in the setting sun. I wasn’t sure if Liam recognized me. Probably not. After all, our interactions during those high school years were few and far between. We weren’t friends; we couldn’t even be called close classmates. Liam’s life was so colorful; it would be hard for him to remember someone as ordinary and mediocre as me. Sure enough, he looked at me, his expression unchanging: “Can I help you?” I pointed to the flyer in his hand: “Excuse me, that’s a flyer for my diner. We’re hiring.” “I saw you looking at it. Are you… looking to apply?” 04 Even after bringing Liam back to the diner, it still felt surreal. He stood a short distance away from me, his gaze sweeping over the storefront, his tone cold: “Where will I live?” Not long ago, when I said that, Liam looked at me very strangely. “Four thousand a month, benefits included, eight-hour shifts, two days off a week.” It wasn’t until I said room and board were included that his expression changed, and he agreed. The four thousand dollars that once barely covered a meal for him was now buying a month of his time. Maybe, like the group chat said, he really had nowhere else to go. I took over this diner from a friend. We sell chicken tenders and fried chicken cutlets. The location is good, and business isn’t bad. The first floor is for business, the second floor is for living. There’s one room for me, and one for storage. I cleared out the storage room, considering whether I should go buy a bed later. And I also needed to buy sheets, a toothbrush, a towel… Liam strolled over from behind me and helped me take a box. I said casually: “Just put it in my room, it’s just some toilet paper, laundry detergent…” Only after Liam had taken two steps did I suddenly realize and hurriedly tried to stop him: “Wait a minute.” But it was too late. Liam had already pushed open the bedroom door. The room was small; you could take it all in with one glance. When Liam looked up, he saw the desk by the window. He paused. His gaze swept over the photo displayed on it. He turned back and asked me: “Just put it next to the desk?” My nervous heart slowly relaxed: “Yeah.” Liam probably didn’t recognize me. After all, this photo was an accident. When we graduated, the school hired a photographer to take pictures for us. You could take solo shots, or take pictures with friends. When Liam was taking his picture, I happened to be standing nearby, spacing out. Startled by the photographer’s shout, I turned my head in confusion. And thus, this unexpected photo was born. When the photographer developed the photos, he probably thought we had planned it that way. So he printed a copy for me too. I brought this photo with me to college, and after graduating, I brought it to the diner. I found a frame for it and carefully placed it on my desk. The Liam back then was a blond, with arrogant bleached hair, his bangs too long, covering half an eye. Wearing a skull t-shirt and ripped jeans, even though he was good-looking, he couldn’t hide that era’s emo/scene kid vibe. Now, he had short, neat black hair, and simple, clean clothes. The difference was too huge. So it was perfectly normal that he didn’t recognize me. 05 After getting the room sorted, I took Liam out to eat. But his appetite was low; he took two bites and put down his chopsticks. It’s understandable. With that kind of family tragedy, it’s normal to be in a bad mood. But it went on like this for several days, and he was visibly thinner than when he first arrived. I was getting a bit anxious, so I dragged him to a steakhouse. It was about a hundred dollars a person. I ordered him a steak and a salad. Liam took two bites and suddenly said: “I’ve been here before.” I paused, surprised he remembered. Back then, everyone laughed at him for having more money than sense, but after being treated so much, they eventually felt embarrassed. So, many people started taking the initiative to invite Liam out to eat after school. I mixed in with the crowd. On the day I got my paycheck from my part-time job, I carefully chose this steakhouse. I didn’t expect him to accept my invitation. He always had an aloof personality. Annoyed by everyone asking, he closed his eyes and randomly pointed at someone: “You then. Just one meal. The rest of you, stop bothering me.” I was the lucky winner. Liam ate that steak clean. He reviewed it: “The chef here is pretty good. It tastes no different from what I usually eat. I like it a lot.” That compliment made me let out a smile I couldn’t hold back. Aladdin was able to buy the Genie a meal. Aladdin was very happy. So, seeing Liam’s current low spirits, I naturally thought of this restaurant. It was as if time had rewinded, bridging a four-year gap. The same seat, the same person. Liam seemed to have a better appetite, just like four years ago. He finished the steak and salad completely: “It’s very good. I like it a lot.” I smiled, just about to get up to pay the bill. When suddenly, Liam spoke from behind me: “You know me, and you know who I am.” His tone was calm, yet decisive: “The photo frame on the desk… the person in it is you, isn’t it?” 06 That night, the class group chat was already buzzing: “You say Liam’s family went bankrupt. So is his engagement to Sarah still on?” “Definitely not. Before, they were a match made in heaven. Now, it’s just a poor boy lusting after a rich girl. Only an idiot would stay together.” “Sorry, you guys are really wrong this time. The rich girl is truly deeply in love. Even though Liam is broke, she’s not abandoning him. She’s currently adding people as friends asking for his whereabouts.” Sure enough, there was a new friend request on my list, exactly from Sarah. I was hesitating whether to accept it when there was a soft knock on my door. “I’m out of shampoo.” Liam’s hair was half-wet, leaning against the doorframe looking at me. That meal not long ago had ripped away our facade of acting like nothing happened. Liam recognized the photo, and he recognized me. Thankfully, he didn’t say much else, nor did he ask me why I kept our photo on my desk. Right now, water droplets were falling from Liam’s brow. His dark eyes watched me quietly, displaying a strange kind of docility. I didn’t dare to meet his gaze. I handed over the toiletries I had bought. “I forgot to give this to you earlier. Body wash and everything else is in here too.” I was still feeling uneasy about Sarah’s friend request. Suddenly, a sharp snap echoed in my ear. Liam had snapped his fingers. When I looked up in confusion, I saw him holding open the bag, revealing what was inside. Since we met again, he had always been aloof and silent. But now, his voice unexpectedly carried a hint of a smile: “Boss, you even provide your employees with Kérastase shampoo?” 07 In my heart, Liam is different from me. This difference is hard to describe in words. If I had to, it’s… I can eat cheap street food; he can’t. I can wear a nine-dollar t-shirt; he can’t. But this reasoning was too bizarre to explain, so I told a lie: “I usually use this brand, so I just bought it together.” But as soon as I said it, I regretted it. Because Liam had helped me move boxes before and definitely saw what was inside. A pile of bright green Pantene bottles easily exposed my lie. But Liam wasn’t the type to embarrass people. He just said “hmm,” easily accepting my explanation. Just like in my junior year, when I stained my pants during my period and was mocked by a male classmate. He suddenly stood up and beat the guy up. When making a public apology in front of the whole school at the flagpole, he just said casually: “I didn’t like the way he looked. He was being too loud while I was trying to sleep.” Everyone’s attention was diverted by Liam, so no one noticed the slap I gave that male classmate. Genie, oh Genie, the most subtle Genie in the world. Liam took a few steps, then turned back: “The noodle place across the street is really good, the t-shirts from the wholesale market next door are great quality, and Irish Spring soap smells really nice.” I didn’t understand what he meant and looked up in confusion. “Just a little bit.” Liam held up his thumb and index finger, making a gesture: “Just a little bit is enough to keep me alive.” So he didn’t need a steakhouse that costs hundreds a person, and he didn’t need shampoo that costs thirty or forty dollars a bottle. After our reunion, Liam called out my name for the first time, his eyes curving into a smile: “Chloe, I’m very easy to take care of.” 08 I didn’t expect Sarah to show up directly at my diner. The first time she laid eyes on Liam, she practically threw herself at him: “Why didn’t you answer my calls? I’ve been looking for you for so long.” Her eyes were red. A pretty girl crying is very endearing. Sure enough, Liam raised his hands and placed them on her shoulders, a posture suitable for an embrace. But the next second, he forcefully pushed Sarah away. “Don’t touch me.” Sarah froze, her eyes getting even redder: “Are you still blaming me? I’ve already convinced my mom. Just hold on for another month, I can definitely convince my dad too. Our engagement still stands.” “There is no engagement. I never agreed to it.” Liam cut off Sarah’s words, his voice very cold: “That was a unilateral decision by our parents, their own wishful thinking.” After being chased away, Sarah came back several more times. Liam never gave her a good look. The most serious time, he called the police: “If you want to get married, go to a dating site. Harass me one more time, and I’ll call the cops again.” “Stop coming to find me. It’s very annoying and severely affects my life.” Even from an outsider’s perspective, these words were incredibly ruthless. Sure enough, Sarah ran off crying and didn’t come back for a week. Messages flooded the class group chat: “Tsk, the rich girl bravely pursues love, only to be rejected. It breaks my heart to see her cry. How could Liam bear it?” “Love without material backing is just loose sand. Liam can’t even support himself right now, how can he support her? He can’t even buy her a bag. Is he supposed to make the rich girl suffer with him?” “There’s a kind of love called letting go. I get it. I broke up with my ex because of the huge gap in our family backgrounds too. Actually, I still think about her, but, sigh, dreams can’t beat reality.” I don’t know who pulled Sarah into the group chat. She sent a crying emoji: “I know he just doesn’t want to drag me down, but I really don’t care. As long as I can be with him, even if we live in a tiny apartment, it doesn’t matter. True love can conquer anything.” Such words resonated with many people. It was like a novel plot coming to life—the trope of the rich, beautiful girl bravely pursuing love never gets old. I exited the group chat. Liam was frying chicken cutlets. Two girls, blushing, pushing each other forward, came up to ask for his number. “I have a girlfriend, sorry.” Liam handed the chicken cutlets to them. His outstanding appearance, tall figure, and cold voice. Even wearing an apron, he looked completely out of place in this narrow, mediocre chicken cutlet shop. So even that sentence seemed like an excuse used to brush them off.

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At twenty-seven, my family started pressuring me to get married. I initiated a clean, cliff-drop breakup with the boyfriend I had been chasing and coddling for three years, and headed back to my hometown for blind dates. My friend asked me, “Are you really over Liam? You liked him so much.” I let out a scoff. “I’m not stupid. A guy like him is fine for a casual fling, but if I actually married him, wouldn’t I be miserable for the rest of my life?” Suddenly, a dark, familiar voice came from right behind me. “Oh, so is that your excuse for dumping me?” 01 When I dragged my suitcase home, I bumped right into a girl opening my front door to leave. She was wearing a loose black sweater that slipped off one shoulder to reveal delicate collarbones, an oversized-shirt-as-a-dress look, and a pair of Yves Saint Laurent stiletto heels. I recognized her. Her name was Chloe, the bassist in Liam’s band. A pretty girl in her early twenties. Instinctively, I stopped behind the hallway door, staying out of sight. A moment later, Liam walked out from behind her, wearing only a pair of jeans, leaning lazily against the wall to light a cigarette. He was shirtless, water still dripping down the sharp v-lines of his lower abs. After a few seconds, he casually tossed a Chanel handbag her way. “Take it.” Chloe’s eyes lit up. She turned and threw herself at Liam, squealing: “Ah! I’ve wanted this bag for so long! Where did you get it?” “Picked it up on a trip to New York.” “I love it so much, thank you, baby!” Chloe wanted to linger, but Liam was already getting impatient, his brow furrowing slightly. “Alright, hurry up and go.” The girl slid off him, half-pouting, half-flirting: “You’re so ruthless. Calling me ‘baby’ a second ago, and now kicking me out just like that.” But she wasn’t actually mad. She happily slung the bag over her shoulder and blew Liam a kiss: “I’m going. See you tomorrow.” After she left, I stepped out from behind the door. Liam clearly didn’t expect me to come back so suddenly. He froze for a second, but his expression instantly returned to normal. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” I stared at him for a moment. “It was too late. I didn’t want to wake you.” The hickeys on Liam’s neck were still fresh, but he didn’t look guilty at all. He pulled me into his arms and led me into the apartment. “I’m starving, make us something to eat.” He sat on the couch and turned on the TV, acting as if absolutely nothing had just happened. Seeing that I hadn’t moved for a while, he frowned: “What’s wrong?” Then, as if realization dawned on him, a lazy, arrogant smile floated into his eyes: “Missed me?” He got up, walked over, and hugged me from behind. His hot breath hovered ambiguously over my neck, and his hand slowly slipped under the hem of my shirt. “Then let’s eat you first, and dinner later—” Years of playing the guitar had left rough calluses on his fingertips, bringing a prickly, itchy sensation as they scraped across my skin. I closed my eyes, exhausted, and pushed his hands away. I really liked Liam’s body. The main reason I pursued him back then was because he was so incredibly hot. But maybe it was because I just got off a long flight, or maybe it was because of the girl who just left. Right now, I only felt tired. I wasn’t in the mood at all. Liam was rarely rejected by me. He paused, his face darkening slightly. “What’s the matter?” I looked down at a crumpled black mass on the rug. It was a pair of severely torn pantyhose. Liam clearly saw the pantyhose too. He clicked his tongue, his expression turning ugly. The living room fell into an agonizing silence. He pulled a cigarette from its pack and lit it. The crisp pop of the menthol bead being crushed echoed in the quiet room. “Her lease ended and she didn’t have anywhere to go, so I let her crash here for the night.” “There’s nothing going on between us.” I looked at Liam. Our intersecting gazes were blocked by the white smoke, blurring each other’s expressions. But we both knew how incredibly lame that excuse was. This wasn’t Liam’s first time cheating. He was probably born a player. That’s exactly how he was the first time I met him. Back then, my best friend dragged me to see a relatively well-known indie rock band, claiming the lead singer was insanely hot and tickets were hard to get. I’ve never been interested in rock music, so I wasn’t feeling it. Until Liam walked on stage. He kept his head down, tuning his guitar. He hadn’t put gel in his dark hair, allowing the loose strands to brush across his pale forehead, occasionally revealing thin, flushed eyelids. He was dressed the most casually of anyone on stage—just a simple black t-shirt and jeans—yet he instantly became the center of attention. That face was the most expensive luxury item in the room. He raised his eyes, the hazy stage lights reflecting in his amber pupils, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible smile. That was my first time at a band gig. My friend who brought me, and all the girls in the crowd, went completely crazy. Their screams practically blew the roof off. His gaze swept over the chaotic crowd, and for a split second, our eyes locked, before he quickly looked away. He sang beautifully that night, but I couldn’t hear a single lyric. Because in that moment, everything else went dead silent. All I could hear was the deafening roar of my own heartbeat. After the set, countless girls swarmed backstage to get his number, and I was one of them. Being single for my entire 23 years of life, that was probably the bravest thing I had ever done. Liam didn’t turn anyone away. He let every girl who asked scan his Snapchat QR code that night, including me. A year later, all the crazy groupies and butterflies chasing him had given up and faded away. I was the only one who kept persisting. I don’t know if it was out of pity, being moved by my dedication, or what, but Liam silently accepted our relationship. I became his girlfriend, right up until today. But I knew that throughout all our years together, Liam had never truly liked me. Or rather, he liked me, but he liked that I was understanding, generous, and never caused drama. I caught him cheating many times, but as long as he gave me a half-decent excuse, I would forgive him. He told me many times that I wasn’t his type, and that he was only with me because I treated him well. He even joked that the day he found true love, he would dump me. The only reason our relationship had survived this long was solely because I was willing to compromise and swallow my pride. “You promised me you wouldn’t cheat again.” My voice was low, my eyes fixed on the torn Balenciaga logo pantyhose on the floor. A flash of mockery crossed Liam’s eyes, without the slightest intention of comforting me. “I was just messing around, and you actually believed it?” He smirked, leaning in close, blowing the menthol-scented smoke right into my face. His features were filled with pure malice: “Can’t handle it?” “If you can’t handle it, we can break up.” He had said that to me countless times before. Every time, it ended with me hugging him, begging him not to leave. Over time, he learned exactly how to control me. He knew that once he said those words, I would cave. I turned my head away. “I’m tired. I’m going to get some rest.” Liam grabbed my wrist. He had a strong brow bone, and when his face was expressionless, it always gave off an oppressive, intimidating pressure. “Maya, don’t push it.” I shook off his hand and went into the bedroom. Not long after, I heard the deafening slam of the front door. Liam left. He was mad, I knew that. After all, throughout our entire relationship, I was always the one coddling him, chasing after him. I had never given him attitude like this before. I rolled over and opened my phone. In the family group chat, my mom sent a text tagging me. “I’ve never pressured you before, but you’re 27 this year. It’s about time you start thinking about marriage.” “My coworker’s son has a great background, and I think he’s handsome. You should come back home during your vacation and meet him.” I opened a message from my boss. “Maya, the new branch office is desperately short-staffed right now. Honestly, keeping someone with your skills as a deputy manager here is a waste of your talent. Are you interested in going to the branch office as the General Manager? Starting a new operation will definitely be challenging, so think it over.” My mom was calling me home for blind dates. The company just opened a new branch in my hometown city. Right place, right time. It seemed I truly had no reason to stay here anymore. I sighed. Honestly, I really did like Liam. He was handsome enough, his body was great, and we were incredibly compatible in bed. Most importantly, he was a massive player. Being with him was easy because I didn’t have to think about holding him accountable, and I didn’t have to worry about our future. When I first started working, I was so exhausted I couldn’t see straight. I desperately wanted to find someone to vent my stress with. But I’m just average-looking, yet I’m hopelessly obsessed with good looks. I looked everywhere but couldn’t find anyone I actually wanted, until I met Liam. He spent his best years with me, and when I was physically and mentally drained from my career, his body helped me relieve a lot of stress. And even though his relationships with women were messy, he was relatively careful in that regard. Before we got together, I heard he required any woman he slept with to show a clean STD panel from within the last three days. I always used protection, so I wasn’t afraid of catching anything. If I wanted to find another man this perfectly suited to my needs in the future, it would probably be difficult. But there was nothing I could do. Dating was one thing, settling down and getting married was another. I liked Liam a lot. But I also knew perfectly well that he wasn’t marriage material. Now, it was time for me to make a choice. 02 Liam didn’t come home that night. He didn’t show up for the next few days either. He didn’t answer my texts or my calls. When I tried texting him again, a red exclamation point popped up. He had blocked me. His usual, practiced silent treatment. This had happened a few times before. Liam was a master at the cold war. Every time, I had to swallow my pride and coax him for a long time before he would give me the time of day. Except this time, I was busy handing over my work responsibilities and didn’t have time to coax him. That night, as I was buying a plane ticket back to my hometown, my phone suddenly rang. It was one of Liam’s friends. The background was loud—men and women laughing and shouting, the music so blaring it was annoying even through the phone. “Maya, Liam had too much to drink. Can you come pick him up?” Liam loved hitting the clubs. His family was loaded; the band was just a hobby. He didn’t rely on it for money. I asked him once why he didn’t join the family business. He sneered, saying that his dad’s illegitimate kids were already tearing each other’s throats out over that little bit of money, and he had no interest in fighting over scraps. Anyway, whatever his grandfather and his mom owned would be left to him. He wasn’t hurting for cash, so he was just going to spend his life doing whatever he wanted. Liam had absolutely no career ambition. On that front, we had zero common ground. Every time I landed a new project at the company or got a promotion, he always looked completely disinterested when I told him. He once scoffed that working yourself to death for a standard monthly salary was pointless; it wasn’t even enough to cover the bottle service he bought in one night at the club. I knew that deep down, we weren’t the same kind of people. Aside from physical compatibility, we had nothing to talk about. I didn’t care about his soul, I only liked his body. He ignored my inner thoughts and was just used to me being compliant. That worked out fine. When we separated like this, neither of us would be sad. I thought about it and said okay. I hung up the phone and looked out the window. The city at night seemed even more magnificent than during the day. Millions of lights from homes and the endless stream of traffic blended together, drowning out the light of every star in the sky. I glanced at my plane ticket: 8:00 AM the day after tomorrow. I sighed. Actually, I didn’t want to break up this quickly. Liam and I were really great in bed. The pressure of switching companies these past few days had been huge, and I originally wanted to have breakup sex with him. I smacked my lips, feeling it was a bit of a waste. But since the opportunity had presented itself, there was nothing I could do. … When I got to the club, Liam was surrounded by a group of girls. All different types, all shapes and sizes. Their common trait was that they were all gorgeous. Even heavy makeup couldn’t hide the youthful collagen in their faces; they all looked very young. It was no wonder girls liked him. Liam’s family was rich, he was generous with his money, and he was incredibly handsome. Even his player reputation somehow added to his charm. I touched my own face, remembering the insulting things Liam had said to me before. “You’re 27. You need to go get some facials and treatments. Put some effort into your appearance, okay?” No wonder he found me repulsive. Turns out he was surrounded by girls in their early twenties. I didn’t say anything, just stood outside the crowd. My eyes met Liam’s. But he acted as if he hadn’t seen me, quickly looking away. Chloe’s face was flushed red. She pressed herself tightly against him, her voice sticky: “Liam, have one more drink.” Liam smiled. Under the club lights, the corners of his eyes curved up. He looked stunning, but there wasn’t a trace of warmth in his expression. “Drinking like this is boring. Why don’t you feed it to me?” “How?” Liam didn’t answer, just looked down at her. Half a second later, Chloe understood. A flash of delight crossed her eyes. She tilted her head back and downed the caramel-colored whiskey in her glass! Then, Liam suddenly hooked her chin and kissed her fiercely. There was no tenderness in his kiss; it seemed purely to vent his emotions. Chloe tilted her head back to accept it, the corners of her eyes gradually growing damp from the lack of oxygen. Liquor spilled from the corners of their mouths, catching the hazy colors of the club lights. It wasn’t until a long time later, when they separated, that a long, silver trail of saliva connected them. The atmosphere around them instantly exploded. Everyone was screaming and cheering. I knew he did it on purpose. He was punishing me. Punishing me for giving him attitude the other day, and for not immediately coaxing him afterward. It wasn’t until I walked right up to Liam that everyone else finally noticed me and gradually went quiet. Liam looked up, his face indifferent: “What are you doing here?” I looked at his face, vaguely recalling the days when we were inseparable. When the passion was high, we had even spoken of love. Did it hurt? I suppose a little. But it didn’t hurt that much, because I had known for a long time exactly what kind of person Liam was. He was a player, endlessly chasing thrills, incapable of saying no. He was selfish. Probably because he was spoiled growing up, always putting himself first and never considering anyone else’s feelings. My voice trembled as I said: “Liam, you’ve gone too far.” Liam looked up at me. Even though he was sitting and I was standing, I felt as if he was the one looking down on me. He still had that indifferent expression, wearing a contemptuous smile. “Too far? You can always break up with me. No one’s stopping you.” I didn’t say a word, just stared at him. I couldn’t count how many times he had used breaking up to threaten me. Fifty times? A hundred times? Even the friends around us felt he went too far. After all, they had all seen how dedicated I had been to him over the years. One of them whispered to him: “Liam, stop fighting with Maya. Look at her, she’s about to cry.” In fact, I was crying. If you’re going to put on an act, you have to go all the way. The moment that tear hit the floor, I clearly saw Liam’s expression change. The fingers holding his cigarette twitched. Yet, he still didn’t say anything, just watched me coldly. The next second, I said softly: “Okay, Liam.” “Let’s break up then.” Liam’s face instantly turned incredibly ugly. For a moment, I almost thought he was going to attack me! But instead of getting angry, he laughed. But no matter how you looked at it, the laugh seemed forced through gritted teeth. “You’re acting tough now, Maya. Fine. Just remember, I never go back to my exes.” “When the time comes, don’t come crawling back to me like a dog begging.” “Okay.” I nodded, wiping the tear from my eye. Then I turned and left, without ever looking back at him. Liam didn’t come home that night. I stayed up deleting Liam’s contact info and everything related to him, and packed my bags. Early the next morning, I took the first flight back to my hometown. As the plane broke through the clouds, I pulled out my SIM card and tossed it into the vomit bag. 03 I never contacted Liam again. I posted a few late-night, emo captions on Instagram to solidify my “heartbroken” persona, and then cleanly wiped him from my mind. Life back in my hometown fell into a routine. I quickly adapted to the operations at the new branch office, and started meeting the guys my parents set me up with. The guy sitting across from me—a 28-year-old mid-level manager who was already starting to go bald—was rambling endlessly: “I think women should focus on the family after marriage. What I mean is, after we get married, you shouldn’t work anymore. You shouldn’t be so career-oriented. Take good care of the house. Behind every successful man, there should be a woman…” He kept blabbering on. I smiled, looking at the coffee cup in my hand, thinking to myself: Hold it in. Do not dump this over his stupid pig head. When he finally finished, he looked at me: “Did you clearly understand everything I just said? Do you have anything to add?” I maintained my smile: “No. But Mr. Smith, I don’t think we’re a very good match. Let’s just not see each other again.” Then, amidst his rambling about how “women over 25 lose their value, why are you being so picky, old woman,” I turned and walked away. I had been back in my hometown for quite a few days now, and my mom had set me up on quite a few blind dates. Actually, some of them were pretty decent catches. But having experienced the absolute best, dealing with guys like Liam, I really couldn’t force myself to accept these average dudes. This mood carried over until my morning meeting at work. Everyone had arrived early, sitting silently around the conference table. The atmosphere was serious. I quietly asked the VP next to me: “What’s going on? Did something happen to the company?” The VP leaned in close to my ear: “The old Chairman’s son just parachuted in. Word is he’s using our branch as practice, and later he’s going to take over the entire corporation.” “I heard the new young CEO graduated from Harvard. After graduation, he spent a few years at Goldman Sachs. Then he started his own finance firm and made billions overnight. If the old Chairman hadn’t spent years threatening and bribing him, he never would have come back. He is absolutely ruthless, so be incredibly careful when you talk to him!” A moment later, a young man wearing a black suit walked in. An overcoat was draped over his shoulders. The moment he stepped into the office, someone behind him respectfully took his coat, and his leather shoes came to a halt. I looked up. It wasn’t just me; in that instant, everyone’s gaze was captured by him. The first thing that intimidated you was the aura emanating from this man. It was the aura of someone used to being at the very top, accustomed to absolute control. He didn’t even have an arrogant expression, but everyone in the room, including me, felt an irresistible urge to bow our heads, not daring to meet his eyes. Only upon the second glance did I clearly see his exceptionally bright eyes. His black hair was slicked back with gel, revealing prominent brow bones. I had heard that the Chairman’s wife was French. The elegance of blonde hair and blue eyes, combined with the grace of Eastern beauty, merged perfectly within him. A classic Western bone structure with Eastern features. This man was incredibly handsome, easily on par with Liam. But because his aura was so overpowering, people didn’t notice his looks at first glance. “Apologies, my flight was delayed. I’m late.” He started by admitting his fault, then sat at the head of the table and cut straight to the chase: “My name is Ethan Vance. From now on, I am the General Manager of this company. I have already reviewed the company’s basic profiles and financial reports. Now, starting with the VP, everyone will give a basic report on the business results of the past year and the projects you are currently handling.” The department heads stood up one by one, trembling as they gave their reports. The new young CEO, Ethan, was indeed the elite the rumors made him out to be. He pinpointed every single area where someone tried to gloss over the details. “I don’t like vague rhetoric, and I don’t like being played for a fool. I hope we can communicate effectively, but if my communication yields no results, I will consider other methods.” He clearly didn’t yell or physically attack anyone, but a layer of cold sweat broke out on everyone’s backs. Even when I stood up, my palms were slick with a thin layer of sweat. Luckily, I was fully prepared, and my business results from the past year were quite excellent. The more I spoke, the more confident and fluent I became. My resume and my career were my pride, the most important things in my life. I would never cut corners on that front. CEO Vance didn’t interrupt me. I saw a hint of admiration in his eyes. A moment later, I stopped and signaled that I was finished. He nodded: “Maya, right? Not bad.” “From now on, all business reports should follow this standard.” … Ever since CEO Vance arrived, everyone’s workload had increased significantly. He cleared out a lot of redundant tasks and toxic assets, and also secured many high-quality projects. Everyone was working longer overtime hours, but our salaries had also risen accordingly. My colleagues, especially the young female ones, were very interested in the new CEO. Two new young hires didn’t know what got into their heads, but they actually tried pulling the “domineering CEO falls for the innocent girl” routine from romance novels. One openly argued with him during a meeting. The other “accidentally” spilled coffee on his three-thousand-dollar shirt and tried to wipe it off with her hands. The first one was fired the very next day. The second one was fired that exact same day. The female colleagues finally behaved themselves. However, during breaks, they would still gather in the pantry to gossip about him. “I heard he’s never had a girlfriend before. Do you think he’s still a virgin?!” “How is that possible? You watch too much TV. A guy with his qualifications has tons of women eyeing him. There’s no way he’s a virgin.” “Let me sleep with him for one night! I’d gladly give up a year’s bonus. He’s an absolute specimen. Did you guys see him when he wore dress pants the other day? My god, he is seriously packing!” … Listening from the sidelines, I suddenly became interested. Without Liam around, this Ethan Vance seemed like an even better option. This man… I wanted to give him a try. 04 I started intentionally appearing in front of Ethan on a regular schedule. He arrived at work half an hour early every day. Three out of five days a week, I made sure to catch the same elevator as him. Usually, it was just the two of us in the elevator at that time. I didn’t talk much. I just said hello, pressed the floor button for him, and stood quietly to the side. Then, like clockwork, I went to get a cup of coffee every day at noon. He usually got coffee around that time too. I made sure to run into him in the pantry every time, but I always left before he finished pouring his, making sure he noticed me. Occasionally, I worked overtime, and he would walk past my desk when he left for the day. In short, I tried to appear in front of him as much as possible, while absolutely refusing to speak a single unnecessary word to him. Finally, on the 17th time he caught me working overtime, his footsteps paused, and he walked over to me. “I’ve noticed you working late a lot recently. Are you running into any issues?” I looked up, feigning surprise. After a moment of hesitation, I handed over the documents in my hands. “I just took over a new project, but there are some assets in this company whose risk levels I’m not certain about, so I just wanted to study it more carefully.” Ethan naturally sat down in the empty seat next to me: “Let me take a look.” He carried a faint, woody cologne scent. It mixed with the light rose perfume I wore, creating an indescribably intoxicating blend. “I think this project is viable. Look at their 2023 financial statements—the financial status is actually pretty good, and…” He spoke with ease and fluency. I sat beside him, nodding earnestly, occasionally asking highly specialized questions. After he answered each one, I would put on an expression of sudden realization. “So that’s how it works. Thank you, Mr. Vance. I never thought of looking at it from that angle before.” “Your professional skills are already quite strong; you just lack a bit of operational experience. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” “Go home early,” he said, making a rare joke. “Don’t let people think I’m some kind of black-hearted sweatshop boss, forcing employees to work overtime every day.” I nodded, packed up my documents, and went downstairs with him. As we walked out the door, the wind blew raindrops onto me. I hesitated and took a step back. Ethan was about to leave, but seeing me stay put, he turned back and asked: “What’s wrong?” I waved my hand: “It’s nothing, Mr. Vance. You go ahead. I… I just remembered I have something else to do.” He didn’t ask further and nodded before leaving. Five minutes later, his car drove out of the underground parking garage. I was still standing at the entrance of the building. Ethan rolled down his window: “Did you not drive today?” I looked embarrassed: “Yeah. It’s hard to get an Uber when it’s raining. It’s fine, Mr. Vance. I’ll just wait a bit longer, one should show up soon.” He spoke: “Get in. I’ll give you a ride.” … I talked to Ethan quite a bit on the way. He was somewhat surprised to find that our interests aligned perfectly. Even my favorite niche indie film, The Holy Mountain, happened to be his favorite as well. Ethan’s initially aloof demeanor gradually became more conversational. By the time we reached my house, he actually missed the brake and kept driving past it. I pursed my lips, just about to remind him, but he had already noticed. “My apologies, I wasn’t looking at the GPS.” After the car stopped, I thanked him again for giving me a ride home. Ethan just nodded. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back. “What is it, Mr. Vance?” I looked at him. “What perfume are you wearing? It smells nice.” He seemed to regret the words as soon as they left his mouth, but saying anything else would only make it more awkward, so he simply lowered his head and stayed silent. I smiled inwardly: “Penhaligon’s The Coveted Duchess Rose. Well then, Mr. Vance, see you tomorrow.”

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On the day my childhood best friend—and husband—caused the biggest scene, he slapped me for the sake of the little girl he loved. I didn’t just take it. I exploded and broke three of his ribs in return. He screamed that he wanted a divorce, but I refused. At the time, I thought we would just keep tormenting each other like this until we both died. But reality hit me fast. Three months later, I fell head over heels for a sweet, innocent younger guy. He’s currently chasing me, begging to make things official. So, I was forced to pull that familiar number out of my block list. When I dialed it, that little girl’s playful voice picked up on the other end: “Elara, it’s too late, you know. Even if you come crawling back like a dog begging for forgiveness, Liam won’t even spare you a glance.” Facing the provocation, I just spoke calmly: “Tell Liam I want that divorce.” The next second, the phone seemed to be snatched away. There was a flurry of static and noise, and then Liam’s voice sounded, fighting hard to control his trembling. He said: “Elara, don’t you dare.” 01 The year I hated Liam Miller the most. I beat up the little girl he loved more than anything. He backhanded me in return and demanded a divorce. Over the years, what he said to me most often was for me to be “good.” For me to be gentle and submissive, just like Daisy. This was the first time he actually asked for a divorce. I didn’t agree. Instead, I pinned him to the ground, broke three of his ribs, and choked him into unconsciousness before he could say another word. Before Liam rolled his eyes and blacked out. The last words I left him with were: “You want a divorce? Not a chance in hell. Since you two forced me to go crazy, you can deal with the consequences. Daisy Miller will be nothing but a mistress her entire life. You both will live in my shadow forever.” At that time, I had a whole list of plans ready. I was prepared for how we would torture and entangle each other until the bitter end. I’ve always held grudges. Once I bite down on my prey, I never let go. Three years of marriage. Liam took me from a girl full of joy walking down the aisle to a full-blown psycho. That trashy couple ruined me. I swore that even if I spent the rest of my life on it, I would make them miserable. For this, I even bought a separate apartment across town, preparing for a long, drawn-out war. However, the universe never lets you know how to arrange the next step of your life. I thought I would be getting revenge on Liam for the rest of my life. I didn’t expect that just three days later. I would find Ethan Barrett fainted from hunger right at my doorstep. At that moment, I had heard Liam was awake in the hospital, cursing me out as a psycho in front of a whole crowd of relatives and friends visiting him. I had excitedly put on my makeup and picked out my brightest, most stunning outfit, getting ready to go there and make his blood boil. I just didn’t expect that as soon as I walked out the front gate, I would trip over a large, unidentified human-shaped object. In a daze, I flipped the person over and saw a face in the prime of its youth. Ethan had gotten his luggage stolen that day. He had gone to a supermarket to work as temporary labor unloading goods, only to be tricked into working three days for free. He was so hungry he was delirious. In a daze, his palm grabbed the hem of my red dress. I saw his lips move and couldn’t help but lean in closer. Then I heard his voice, weak as a dying breath: “Mom…” … After a long silence, I couldn’t help but mutter: “…You serious?” There was no response. He had completely blacked out from starvation. 02 It was only later that I found out. Ethan calling me “Mom” that day was purely a delusion brought on by hunger. When he was a kid, his biological mother abandoned him in a park. The very last image he had of her was her wearing a red dress just like mine. That day, when he collapsed in front of my house, he saw me squatting down close through his haze and thought his mother had come to take him to heaven. When he confessed this part, I couldn’t help but throw my head back and laugh. I laughed until I realized halfway through that nobody was laughing with me, and it actually wasn’t funny at all. Ethan was just crouching in front of me, watching my neurotic face with a pair of wet, round, puppy-dog eyes. There was no anger, no embarrassment, nothing but deep concern. He was very tall. Standing up, his six-foot-two height was quite intimidating. But his demeanor was so utterly harmless. Seeing me look at him, he instinctively got nervous. He rested his head on the arm of the sofa, just watching me with those watery eyes. He didn’t say anything, yet it felt like he said everything. Realizing that I had just directed malicious intentions towards such an innocent, almost transparent soul, I felt a stab of guilt. But I didn’t know how to lower my head and apologize. Three years of an unhealthy marriage had only taught me to use offensive shouting to cover up my own fragility. For three years, all my time was spent entangling with Liam. I had almost forgotten that before I married him, I was the proudest heiress in this city. That sophisticated, confident woman who knew exactly when to advance and when to retreat seemed to have been forgotten in the deepest parts of my memory. The current me was full of resentment towards the world. I once thought I would be trapped in this hate forever. But Ethan reached out his hand, like a dog pawing at my hand. Until I opened my palm, and he placed a pendant inside. It was the one he always wore around his neck. That was a gift his parents gave him right after he was born. Back then, he was still cherished and loved. But later, his father died in an accident, and his mother remarried and abandoned him. All he had left was this pendant. It was the only shred of good memory this world had granted him. But now, he had taken it off and placed it in my palm. He said: “This used to be the most important thing to me. But now, you are the most important person to me. I’m giving it to you, hoping you’ll be happy.” After saying that, he pushed my fingers closed over it, then gently kissed my fist. This was during Ethan’s third month living at my house. I had taken him in with a playful, mocking mindset, wanting to see what he really wanted from me. But he never did anything. He just stood up, put on an apron, and went into the kitchen to make me a newly learned nutritious meal. The spatula he was holding was one I had originally bought with the intent of using as a weapon to smash over Liam’s head during an argument. It looked a bit small and awkward in Ethan’s large hand, but his movements were nimble, not clumsy at all. The boy had a smile on his lips. The sunlight filtered through, making those light brown puppy eyes shine brightly. Spurred by some unknown force, I walked over and couldn’t help but ask him why he was so happy. “Because I get to cook for you.” It was such a simple reason. But it could be interpreted in so many ways. Because someone was eating the food he cooked, because he had a stable environment where he could slowly cook a meal, or simply because he liked cooking for me. Facing those eyes that easily saw through my pretenses, for a moment, I didn’t want to dig any deeper. 03 Under my protection, Ethan had successfully found a job. And nobody dared to bully this poor kid anymore, even though he had no family and was stubbornly kind and honest. He was nineteen this year. Last year, he had been accepted into a good university, but he couldn’t afford the tuition. So, he ran to the big city to find work, thinking there would be more opportunities, only to be scammed right out of the train station. Fortunately, despite the rocky start, things were going well now. He got his new ID sorted out, wore the clothes I bought him, and went to work every day full of energy. When he came back, he was always carrying several large bags of groceries. He thought I was too thin. He would always pinch my slender wrist, not knowing how to use his strength, a deep look of worry appearing on his sharply defined face. In all fairness, my figure wasn’t dainty. In fact, so that I could one day knock that trashy couple—Liam and Daisy—into next week with one punch, I had even taken up boxing. But there was nothing I could do about Ethan being too tall and having a large build. He used to do manual labor to get by. This meant he ate much, much more than the average person. That’s why, after his bag was stolen, he had starved so quickly. And now that he could eat his fill, a faint smile of happiness was always hanging on his face. However, in contrast to his tall stature, he was actually quite socially anxious, and his mind was rather sensitive. If I talked to him too much, he would get embarrassed. According to his colleagues, Ethan barely interacted with anyone at work. But nobody thought he was hard to get along with. Because he spent the whole day working. Whether it was his own job or helping someone else, if you gave it to him, he did it. Unsurprisingly, Ethan was friendly, sincere, and full of sunshine. He was completely different from me. The current me was a bit too dark. All I thought about every day was how to torture my cheating husband and his little mistress. Just because I had been worried about Ethan dying in front of my house and missed the chance to go to the hospital to gloat to Liam didn’t mean I was giving up on tormenting him. Giving up on that man who had been my childhood best friend for twenty-seven years, who had used his entire passionate youth to pursue me and protect me, only to get quickly bored of me after marriage and turn around to love a young girl who looked a few degrees like me. 04 I remembered the last time we met, it was in Liam’s office. I had originally gone there to talk about the divorce. Three years of marriage. My infatuation with him only lasted for the first year. For the remaining two years, I was constantly doubting myself and consuming myself from within. Finally, I was able to face this marriage properly, admit my failure, and want to have a serious talk with Liam. But I didn’t expect Daisy Miller to be hiding under his desk… The two of them were interacting right in front of me, exchanging glances. Acting as if nothing was wrong, treating me like a prop for their sick game. Daisy even thought she was hiding very well. She was leaning against Liam’s leg, smiling slyly. And I, at the very moment Liam looked entirely satisfied, throwing his head back and letting out a groan as his Adam’s apple bobbed, walked straight up to the desk. I grabbed that girl’s hair and dragged her out from underneath. Daisy screamed as she took a slap from me, her pale, pretty little face immediately turning red and swollen. And at that moment, Liam’s voice came from behind me. He called my name: “Elara.” I subconsciously turned around, only to be slapped so hard that stars appeared before my eyes. It took a long time to clear my vision. He was looking down at me arrogantly: “You finally learned how to fight for my attention? Too bad that when you’re like this, you only get uglier and uglier.” Mean words fell one after another. My world fell into a storm of confusion. I remembered the first time Liam confessed to me. He looked at me, his eyes shining, and said, “You look so proud with your head held high, like a princess. I want to protect you forever.” But afterwards, it was: “She knows how to be submissive and please me much better than you do. What about you? You need to show me some sincerity, prove to me that you love me more than she does.” He dragged Daisy into important social events, where she would hide behind him timidly. The guests present looked at us, standing on opposite sides, and whispered amongst themselves. I still stood tall, holding my head high like a princess with a lonely crown under the massive crystal chandeliers. But when I took off my wedding ring and turned around to leave without hesitation, he would chase after me. In a corner where nobody was looking, he would embrace me from behind. “Are you really mad? See, I knew my wife had me in her heart.” His kisses fell on my neck, one after another, his tone ambiguous and lingering. “I just wanted to make you jealous. How could she possibly compare to you? You’re the rose I personally raised for so many years.” He buried his head in my neck and laughed softly. “My stubborn little rose, refusing to bow her head, even your stubbornness is so cute.” At that time, I thought Liam was crazy. I wanted to get out, but due to the deep entanglement of interests between our two families, I chose to endure it again and again. Until finally, they pushed me too far. By the time I snapped back to reality, I already had Liam pinned to the ground. I was holding the ashtray in my hand, smashing it against him again and again, roaring: “I gave you an inch and you took a mile! You two are screwing right in front of me and don’t know how to act, and you even dared to lay a hand on me!” Liam’s face was covered in blood, looking quite frightening. His little girl was huddled up against the wall in a corner, trying her best to minimize her presence, too scared to make a sound. “Elara, if you don’t act ‘good,’ then we get a divorce.” Even now, his eyes were locked onto me, threats issuing continuously from his mouth. He always provoked me, then stood arrogantly on his high ground, savoring my breakdown. And now, looking at his face distorted by pain, I suddenly let out a relieved laugh. I said: “You know, Liam, intentionally hurting someone gets a heavy sentence, but domestic violence only gets a warning.” “As long as our relationship still exists, I will torment you for the rest of your life.” After saying that, I grinned widely, exposing two rows of white teeth. I said: “A divorce? Keep dreaming.” I must have looked incredibly insane. That’s probably why I saw clear fear in Liam’s eyes. The moment my hand choked Liam, I admit I wanted to drag him down to hell with me. But was it worth it? Just letting him off easily like that, letting him die, I wasn’t willing to do that. Yes. Revenge on him was the only thing keeping me going. Until now, I refused to turn back, and I was unwilling to admit that my life had completely become distorted. Now, I was a psycho, a shrew. My reputation was in tatters, and I was still entangled with a man who didn’t love me. My hand started trembling uncontrollably again. The next second, a warm touch pressed against my palm. I turned around and saw Ethan resting his chin on my knee. He was slowly, gently opening my hand, which I had clenched so tightly my nails were digging in, trying to uncurl my fingers. After trying to press on my palm and offering me water but failing, he directly pressed his cheek against my hand, finally succeeding in pulling me back from the emotional storm. At this moment, the boy was staring at me, unmoving, with those round puppy eyes. I lowered my eyes to scrutinize that face. It was youthful, yet had sharp features, giving him a somewhat exotic look. Ethan was undoubtedly good-looking. It was just that his eyes were too clean, making it hard to have indecent thoughts when looking at him. His cheeks and earlobes were turning red, but the sincerity in his expression overrode his embarrassment. Seeing me look at him, he seemed to finally summon his courage. He took a deep breath and spoke as if making a plea: “Don’t bully yourself anymore, okay?” After saying that, he gently picked up my other hand and reverently placed it on top of his head. When Ethan first arrived at the house, his hair was cut very short like stubble, and it felt really good to the touch. At that time, I had joked that the condition for taking him in was that I got to touch his head whenever I wanted. And now, looking at his clumsy, foolish attempts to comfort me, looking at the clarity in the boy’s eyes, I ultimately couldn’t restrain myself from asking that question: “Ethan, after hiding by my side for so long, what do you really want from me?” 05 Once, I also believed that a soul connection existed between people. Like between Liam and me. The first time he saw me when we were five, he put a ring he had woven himself onto my finger and declared that I was a princess he would protect for the rest of his life. In those years when he loved me loudly, he put me high up on a pedestal. During our high school years, almost no boys could get close to me. Correspondingly, Liam was also very conscious of his own behavior. Many girls wanted to get close to him, but Liam just sneered disdainfully. He pointed at me, not far away, and spoke indifferently: “With Elara around, I would look at you?” Later, I went abroad to chase my dreams, and Liam waited for me for three years. As long as he could find the time, he would fly to London to be with me. When the first snow fell, he embraced me from behind and told me, word by word, truly and plaintively, how much he missed me. Later, when I returned home to fight my father’s illegitimate children for the family inheritance, he supported me fully. Even when I successfully acquired the first company, he laughed happily and said: “I’m now a kept man with a CEO girlfriend. I’ll have to work hard in the future so people won’t call me a gold digger.” On the day he proposed successfully, he had fireworks lit up across the city for me. Under the romantic lights, he held my hand and swore he would use the rest of his life to cherish me. The sincerity in his eyes never seemed fake. It’s just that I ignored many details. For example, when he used to hug me and act spoiled, he had mentioned, as if joking, how other people’s wives acted after marriage—how attentive they were to their husbands. “Will I get treated like that one day?” He had looked at me with expectation in his eyes. I had poked his forehead with my finger. “You really think everything good in the world should just fall into your lap, don’t you?” At that time, Liam had sighed, as if resigning himself to his fate: “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I married a powerful woman, so I just have to follow her lead.” But not long after, he changed. The same tactics he used to pursue me were now all given to Daisy. As if intentionally seeking revenge on me, he bought all the gifts he had ever given me for Daisy, even more of them. He said: “She’s so good and obedient. She deserves these rewards.” But when facing me, he sighed: “Elara, I said I would protect my princess for a lifetime. But fairy tales only go up until the prince and princess get married. You’re already married to me now. What you need to do now is learn to be domestic and maintain our marriage, instead of thinking about that stupid company of yours all day, running around outside.” 06 I stood in place, feeling the blood freeze in my veins inch by inch. He seemed to admire my expression at that moment, savoring it bit by bit, a look of satisfaction in his eyes. The hurtful words continued. He said: “If time could turn back, I would still love the old Elara without hesitation. Too bad that the current you has absolutely nothing left that attracts me.” How high he had once placed me on a pedestal was how hard he was now throwing me down. After that, I no longer believed in anyone. Just as I didn’t believe in the current Ethan, didn’t believe that a boy in the prime of his youth would willingly stay by my side without wanting anything. I had been waiting, waiting for Ethan to actively ask me for something—resources or money. He had to want something. Once he opened his mouth, exposed his ugliness, exposed his weakness. Then I would grab hold of his weak spot. This relationship would be entirely dominated by me. I could keep him as a nice little toy or throw him away after I was done. At the very least, he should tell me what he wants. But Ethan just looked at me quietly, those light brown eyes so bright and honest. He said: “I’ve already looked at apartments. Tomorrow, once I get paid, I can move out.” So he had been planning to leave all along. Hearing this, I sneered. Perhaps my expression was too awful. When he spoke next, he became very cautious. He studied my face while his words came out slowly: “After that… can I still cook for you?” He spoke softer and softer. Finally, that head lowered deeply, not daring to look into my eyes. “Ethan.” I looked at him, suddenly speaking calmly: “Do you want me?” The boy’s body jerked. Immediately, a wave of red shot from his face straight to the tips of his ears. Seeing him not speak, I suddenly curled my lips, my smile malicious: “Last time you were in the bathroom, I heard you call my name.” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” The boy’s eyes filled with tears, looking deeply ashamed, almost on the verge of crying. “You were kind enough to take me in, yet my thoughts are so filthy…” I remembered the second day Ethan stayed at my house. I had hired someone to investigate his entire past, every aspect, thoroughly. So I knew that he was still a blank slate. In that instant, the desire to tease him suddenly vanished. I lifted his chin with my finger and spoke bluntly: “Hold me.” When the boy’s muscular arms wrapped around me, I still felt a bit daze. I thought that at this moment I would think of Liam, think of my anger and heartache when he paraded Daisy around in front of me, that I would feel a sense of revenge. But I felt nothing. My gaze was completely drawn to the boy’s eyes, filled with love and adoration. Those eyes crinkled slightly, his eyelashes trembling. When I tightly gripped his full muscles, his breath would become erratic, with soft tremors, like a puppy whimpering. I had to admit, this was the most relaxed and pleasant moment I had experienced in these three years. Regardless of what Ethan’s motive was, at least right now, he was a useful distraction to pull myself out of the swamp of negative emotions. Besides, he was clean, healthy, and skilled. I wasn’t losing anything. I thought in my heart. The lips he was biting were brushed open by his finger pad. The boy’s movements were a bit frantic, a deep look of worry and pity in his eyes. My voice could no longer be controlled, but my ex-husband’s phone call happened to come in at that moment. During these past few months, I hadn’t had the time to find trouble for Liam, but he wasn’t used to that, so he pasted himself right in front of my eyes.

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01 I was a mute trophy girlfriend. Off the bed, I didn’t need to flatter my sugar daddy. On the bed, I didn’t need to praise him for being so good. The only problem was— When I was pushed to my limit, I couldn’t curse him out. Like right now. Liam Sterling noticed my mind wandering. His hands gripped my waist. He forcefully flipped me over. Biting and nipping. So fiercely it felt like he wanted to tear my skin off and swallow me whole. Ahhh, you son of a bitch! I cursed him out frantically in my head. But on the outside, I was the picture of pathetic submission. My eyes were red, tears falling in fat drops. I found an anchor point amidst the tossing. I wrapped my arms around the man’s neck. And rubbed my cheek against his in a silent plea for mercy. According to past experience, as long as I put on this expression, Liam would quickly finish the battle. But tonight, I don’t know what got into him. He pulled out one ultra-thin 0.01 after another. From the bed to the bathroom to the sofa. We went at it until midnight. Only then did he finally carry me back to bed, completely satisfied. I was exhausted. But the moment I thought about what was going to happen tomorrow, my sleepiness vanished instantly. 02 This afternoon, one of Liam’s frat brothers came over to hang out. The study door wasn’t closed tightly. Snippets of their conversation drifted out. “Chloe is coming back tomorrow. Are you sending a car, or are you picking her up yourself, Liam?” “Is ‘Chloe’ a name you’re worthy of using?” Liam’s voice went ice-cold. The guy quickly corrected himself. “Okay, okay, my bad. That’s your exclusive pet name for her…” It was an apology, but mostly he was just teasing. Everyone in their elite social circle knew Liam Sterling had a first love he could never forget. She was fiercely protected by him. People only knew she existed. No one knew her real name or what she looked like. No one even knew why they didn’t end up together. Once, when I was bored and organizing Liam’s study, I saw an old, yellowed photograph. The “first love” was wearing a hat, her face turned slightly away from the camera. The only half of her face that was visible looked about eighty percent like me. The memory of the first time I met Liam flashed through my mind. I was standing on the curb, playing on my phone. A car pulled up and stopped smoothly in front of me. I didn’t look closely, assuming it was the Uber I called. I opened the door and got right in. Whenever I go out, I invent an identity for myself. As a massive introvert, to avoid being talked to by drivers, I always pull out a pre-typed scrolling message on my phone every time I get in a car: [I am mute. Please do not talk to me.] The moment I shoved the phone forward, I realized the driver was a breathtakingly handsome, aristocratic-looking guy. He was way too good-looking to be driving an Uber. Even the car felt like a luxury vehicle just by his presence. He looked at my phone screen over and over again. He stared blankly for a long time before his voice went hoarse and he asked me where I was going. … Looking at the photo, everything suddenly made sense. His loss of composure back then wasn’t because I got into the wrong car. He didn’t kick me out on the spot not because of my fake mute identity. It was because I looked like his first love. The silence in the study broke as the conversation resumed. “What about the one you have at home?” “She’s timid, and she’s mute. She probably can’t handle seeing people…” I didn’t listen to the rest. I tactfully turned and left. If I didn’t leave right then, I wouldn’t have been able to control my emotions. I would have laughed out loud on the spot. Three years! Three whole years! I faked being mute for three years! And I’ve finally made it to the breakup! 03 I was so happy I couldn’t sleep at all. I turned my back to Liam. I unlocked my phone and clicked into the “Trophy Girlfriends Support Group.” I was pulled into this group by an enthusiastic girl in the bathroom during a business dinner I attended with Liam. The ultimate goal of every member in this group was to secure a sky-high breakup fee. Achieve financial freedom, and retire flat on our backs. I couldn’t resist sharing the news in the group. [Liam’s first love is coming back soon!] The moment the message went out, all the night owls who hadn’t slept yet exploded into the chat. [Ahhhh, congratulations, Maya!!] [Manifesting, manifesting, manifesting! Welcoming the first love back! I heard my sugar daddy’s first love is studying in Germany…] [So jealous of you girls. The one I have at home doesn’t even have a first love (dead inside). ] After a wave of envy, Chloe tagged me out of curiosity. [Mr. Sterling is so rich, and he’s always been generous with you. The breakup fee is going to be massive, right?!] Liam has always been very generous with me. My monthly allowance is $50,000. He frequently gifts me designer bags and jewelry. Occasionally, he’ll spontaneously gift me luxury cars and mansions. I never accepted the cars or mansions. After all, as a poor person, I absolutely cannot afford the maintenance on a luxury car! And I definitely can’t afford the HOA and property taxes on a mansion! It’s hard to take them with me, and selling them requires finding a broker… Just thinking about it gives a socially anxious person like me a breakdown. So, my only hope for getting filthy rich was the breakup fee Liam would give me. A few hundred thousand? Or a few million? The more I thought about it, the more excited I got, twisting like a pretzel on the bed. The next second, the man dragged me back into his arms. “Can’t sleep?” His burning body pressed against me again. I was terrified and pushed him away with all four limbs. I brought my hands together and rested them under my cheek. Indicating that I was going to sleep right now! “Tomorrow I have to go to the airport to pick up someone very important to me.” I snapped my eyes open, having just closed them. Liam asked, pretending to be casual: “Do you… want to go with me?” I was dumbfounded. Who? Me? He’s asking if I want to go with him? Taking the stand-in to pick up the first love. Is he planning to piss the first love to death on the spot? I shook my head violently. Liam looked at me deeply for a moment. “That’s fine too… You’re timid. We’ll wait until you want to see her.” Liam has always indulged me. When we first got together, he offered to arrange a job for me. After I refused, he never brought it up again. As an absolute homebody and introvert. This kind of life where I don’t have to leave the house to work. Where food is brought to my mouth and clothes are handed to me. I was actually a little reluctant to leave. My mood uncontrollably dipped. Right then, my phone vibrated. It was an SMS notification from the bank about a transfer. “I probably won’t be home tomorrow night. I might not have time to be with you for the next couple of days.” “Take this money and buy whatever you like…” I didn’t respond to Liam. My eyes were practically glowing as I stared at my phone screen. Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions, tens of millions… I rubbed my eyes. Tossed and turned and counted again. It was indeed eight figures! Liam gave me a $30 million breakup fee! Thirty million! A poor person suddenly striking it rich. The money completely fried my brain. In a moment of sheer excitement, I blurted out: “Thank you, boss! You are so generous, boss!” “…” Our eyes met. The atmosphere instantly froze. I’m doomed! I was so happy I forgot I was supposed to be mute! I mean, how could a mute person be so polite? After realizing what a stupid thing I had done. I covered my mouth guiltily. My waist went limp, and my body slid down. I buried myself entirely under the covers. The next instant, the man pinched the back of my neck and yanked me up. “Little mute.” The little girl he had pampered and held in the palm of his hand for three years was suddenly no longer mute. Liam was practically laughing out of pure anger. “Don’t tell me this is a medical miracle?” 04 Haha. That joke was not funny at all. There was nowhere to hide. To block the burning gaze raking over my body. I had no choice but to cover my face tightly with my hands. “Little mute, speak.” I shook my head, my voice muffled. “Mutes don’t speak.” “…” Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. Looking at the girl in front of him whose face was flushed red, wishing she could disappear, he felt a bit helpless. “Do you have nothing you want to say?” I bit my lip, feeling a bit lost. Yes, I pretended to be mute and lied to him. I won’t defend myself. And the breakup fee has already hit my account. What else is there to say? I have nothing to say! But obviously, I had to say something right now. I changed my line of thinking. I tried to think about what Liam would want to hear, what he liked to hear. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration hit me. “Daddy…” Liam’s breath hitched. As a literature student. I desperately recalled the steamy romance novels I used to read. I picked and chose, and finally found a line I could actually say out loud. “Daddy is so big… so good, I love it so much…” I stammered out the praise. I cautiously moved the two fingers covering my eyes. And peeked at Liam’s expression. His eyebrows were raised, and the corners of his mouth weren’t tight. It seemed like he wasn’t mad? I’ve been faking muteness to avoid this for so long, but in the end, I still couldn’t escape it. At least tonight is my last night as a trophy girlfriend. I racked my brains, searching through my entire mental inventory. “Daddy is so fierce at night, going hard like you took some kind of pill.” Liam’s face instantly went black. “What did you say? Say that again?” I gulped. Was there something wrong with that? Does he not like being called Daddy? But Liam is older, after all. He wouldn’t appreciate the “older brother/younger sister” vibe. My heart was pounding like a drum. I mustered up my courage and repeated: “Daddy is so fierce at night…” Before the rest of the words could come out. They were swallowed down by a sticky, tangled kiss. The man grabbed my hands, which I didn’t know where to put. And moved them lower and lower. Liam’s dark eyes glowed a faint green under the dim wall light. “Little mute, call me that one more time.” … The sky began to lighten. The man was so excited it was as if he had unlocked a whole new world. I buried my damp, sweaty head into the pillow. Thinking dizzily. Good thing I was smart enough to fake being mute for three years. Otherwise, I definitely would have died in this bed! 05 When I woke up again, it was already afternoon. My whole body ached. After screaming all night, my throat was so hoarse I couldn’t speak. Now I was a real mute. Dragging my legs that felt like prosthetics, I went downstairs. Maria, the housekeeper, saw me. She nodded in greeting, turned into the kitchen, and brought a bowl of warm porridge to the table. After doing all this, she vanished silently like a fairy godmother. Liam knew I didn’t like interacting with strangers. So he had instructed everyone from the very beginning. Anyone entering or leaving the house had to minimize their presence. It was incredibly friendly for someone with social anxiety. The more I thought about it, the more I realized Liam was actually pretty great. He had money, he had the looks. He was attentive when he needed to be. And rough enough when it counted. His only flaw was… He had another woman in his heart. “Sigh…” I felt melancholy for all of three seconds. My hand accidentally tapped on the $30 million transfer record. It seems, maybe… I didn’t love him that much anyway, haha. My heart is too small; it only has room for money. As for Liam? Whatever, considering how good he’s been to me. I’ll do him a favor! With that thought. I laid back on the bed with a clear conscience. I pulled a novel from the bookshelf. Chapter One: The Return of the First Love. Perfect, exactly what I need. Time to study up. Half an hour later. I was so pissed off by the male and female leads who refused to communicate that my liver hurt. I exited the novel with a blank expression. I opened iMessage and sent Liam a sticker of a kitten peeking its head out. Liam replied instantly. “You’re awake? Maria kept the porridge warm for you. Eat something good tonight, but don’t overdo it.” “Does it still hurt? Feeling any better?” Ahhhhhh! A capable man asks if you’re tired. A super capable man asks if it still hurts, and if you’re feeling better. I buried my face in the covers and kicked my legs wildly. It took me a good while before I replied coolly. “Yeah.” Liam didn’t reply instantly this time. He was probably busy. I took the opportunity to share some articles I had found. Don’t Miss the Girl Right Beside You. A Man’s Actions Speak Louder Than His Words. Thirty Tips for Pursuing a Woman: Catering to Her Interests. … After sending nearly ten links, I comfortably opened a game. I played for over two hours straight. When I checked my messages again, I saw Liam had replied a long time ago. “Received.” What does “Received” mean? Did he think this was a work memo? The next second, I got a call from Liam’s assistant. Confused, I went downstairs to open the door. The assistant pulled out a black Amex card and handed it to me. “Ms. Davis, this is the supplementary card Mr. Sterling asked me to bring you.” My eyes widened like fried eggs. “For… for me?” Mr. Hayes, the executive assistant, whose expression was usually as tight as a robot’s, completely broke in that moment. “Ms. Davis, you… you aren’t mute?” We stared at each other. I guess I forgot to tell him the truth, haha. Look at this mess. I totally short-circuited this elite professional’s brain. After hearing my explanation, Mr. Hayes pushed his glasses up. His brain began to function again. “My apologies, I just haven’t seen much of the world.” I pursed my lips, feeling extremely embarrassed, and changed the subject. “I heard Mr. Sterling is going to the airport this afternoon to pick up someone very important?” Mr. Hayes nodded. “Yes, Ms. Davis. Would you like to go together?” Taking the stand-in to pick up the first love. Are you straight men insane?! I let out an awkward laugh. “Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Mr. Hayes seemed to think of something. He corrected himself. “It is a bit sudden. It’s better to be mentally prepared before meeting.” What’s going on… Is this first love someone I have to meet eventually? I immediately bypassed that topic. “Liam is so busy. Since you’re picking them up, have you prepared flowers and gifts? Are you throwing a welcome dinner tonight?” “You don’t need to worry about that, Ms. Davis. Mr. Sterling had that all arranged last month.”

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I just found out my younger brother is the male lead in a romance novel. According to the plot, on his eighteenth birthday, he’s supposed to meet the female lead, and sparks will fly. Refusing to be part of their twisted game, I hurriedly packed my bags to leave the country. Learning I was leaving, the brother who usually acted so gentle sneered, trapping me in his arms with a look that was both sick and obsessive: “Sister, I forgot to tell you… we aren’t blood-related.” 01 After discovering my brother was a novel’s male lead, the way I looked at Liam changed completely. At the time, Liam was seventeen and a junior in high school. Wearing his blue and white school hoodie, he dropped his backpack, looking relaxed and a bit lazy: “Chloe, I’m home.” This kid. Ever since he started high school, he stopped calling me “sis” and always used my first name. Even though it annoyed me, seeing him towering at almost 6’2″, I didn’t dare push it too much. Especially since I had just learned that in this novel, Liam was a “naturally gifted, tirelessly energetic” male lead. Normally, when he refused to call me “sis,” I would run over and mess up his hair. But now… “Chloe, why are you looking at me like that?” Liam’s tone was cool as he glanced up at me. I pretended to stare at the TV, acting like nothing was wrong. “Nothing.” Honestly, the pet on this TV show is pretty cute… “What are you smiling at?” It was summer. Liam took off his jacket, revealing a white t-shirt underneath, his hair slightly messy. He swept his slightly upturned eyes over the TV and casually sat down next to me on the sofa. “What is that?” I choked on my own spit, coughing violently. Liam naturally reached out to pat my back. I froze, glanced at the TV, and said, “That… I think it’s a cockatoo.” “Hm.” He pulled his hand back, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the sofa. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes. His eyelashes were really long. I looked at his sharp, handsome profile. This kid, his skin was not only pale and clear, but his features were incredibly refined. Let’s just say he looked like a young movie star. The most distinctive thing was a small red mole right on his Adam’s apple. It was very eye-catching. I coughed, shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, and kept my eyes glued to the screen. But my mind had already drifted back to the plot of the novel. On his eighteenth birthday, Liam falls in love at first sight with a girl five years older than him. He becomes dangerously possessive and obsessively in love. And I, somehow, become a part of their twisted games. Finding torn clothes and crumpled tissues in the mansion I share with Liam… Thinking about it made me inexplicably annoyed. I grabbed my phone, wanting to retreat to my room. Before I could take a few steps, Liam stood up and grabbed my wrist. Thinking of that absurd plot, I snapped at him, “What?” The seventeen-year-old boy leaned down, glancing at me before lowering his head: “No head pats today?” Under the lamplight, his soft hair had a gentle halo. I don’t know what came over me, but I reached out and ruffled his hair like a dog’s, leaving a few strands sticking up in all directions. Finally, I instinctively patted his head, like praising an obedient pet. Once I was done, Liam straightened up, smirked, and threw an arm around my shoulder, leading me upstairs. He smelled faintly of crisp mint. I vaguely felt something was off: “Liam, what are you doing?” Liam glanced at me sideways, then pinched his earlobe and said, “Weren’t you going to your room? I’m going up too.” Wait… according to the novel, every time Liam wouldn’t let the female lead out of bed, he would pinch his own earlobe… But then again, maybe it’s just a subconscious habit? Feeling a strange, indescribable sensation in my chest, I hurried back to my room. 02 Back in my room, I couldn’t help but recall the scene when I saw Liam again at eighteen. My parents divorced when I was very young. I lived abroad with my mom, while Liam, who was barely a year old, stayed with my dad in the States. When I became an adult, my father passed away. I left my mother’s new family and resolutely returned to the States to take care of this underage, practically stranger of a younger brother. At my father’s funeral, I saw fourteen-year-old Liam wearing an ill-fitting black suit. Like a lone wolf, the boy stood in front of the tombstone, watching the people come and go with cold detachment. It was a gloomy day. The clouds were dark, and soon a light drizzle began to fall. I walked up to him with an umbrella, feeling a bit absurd as I spoke: “Hi, I’m your surprise sister, Chloe.” After that day, I became Liam’s legal guardian. At first, he would obediently call me “sister,” but after over a decade apart, there was an inevitable distance and caution between us. Yet, there was no denying we shared the same blood. What truly brought us closer happened the year Liam turned fifteen. It was the anniversary of our father’s death. School had let out a long time ago, but Liam still hadn’t come home. Without a second thought, I went to the cemetery where our father was buried. And there, I found Liam, eyes red, hugging the tombstone and crying. “How did you know I was here?” Are you kidding? You didn’t come home on your dad’s death anniversary, where else would you be? I didn’t answer. I just told him to come home with me. I remember clearly what he said: “I don’t have a mom, and now I don’t have a dad either.” I didn’t comfort him, because, in a way, I was the same. I didn’t have a dad, and my mom was busy being a mom to someone else’s kids. He and I, we were the same kind of people. “Liam, look on the bright side. I still have a younger brother, and you still have an older sister.” I stood there in a standoff with him for a while. Finally, Liam got up, slung his black cartoon backpack over his shoulder, followed behind me, and went home. I have to say, he was starving. He ate three huge bowls of rice when we got back. Regardless, from that point on, our relationship improved significantly. It wasn’t until he hit high school that he started rebelling. He stopped calling me “sis” and used my first name instead, which was highly disrespectful. This kid. I was the one who went to all his parent-teacher conferences. 03 A noise at the door interrupted my memories. Liam’s cool voice called out: “Chloe, sign this for me.” I opened the door, took the permission slip from him, and signed my name. In a daze, I realized Liam’s eighteenth birthday was fast approaching, just a few months away. Handing the slip back, I casually asked, “Liam, what do you want for your eighteenth birthday?” Liam glanced at me, looked away, paused for a moment, and said, “You guess.” I looked up and caught sight of the small red mole on his Adam’s apple. He was looking down, staring intently at me. An unnamed emotion flooded my heart. I pushed down the weird feeling, made a casual joke, and went back to my room. Would a docile-looking Liam really fall hopelessly in love with the female lead on his eighteenth birthday and turn into the psycho described in the plot? In the middle of the night, still baffled, I texted my friend to grab some late-night food. At the food truck, looking at my best friend Maya, I couldn’t help but ask, “Do you think it’s possible we’re actually NPCs in a novel?” Hearing this, Maya cracked open a beer, took a big swig, and said dismissively, “If we’re NPCs, we’re NPCs. NPCs still gotta drink beer.” This glutton. I couldn’t help but smirk, grabbing a skewer of grilled meat. “You’re right. NPCs still gotta eat barbecue.” We were in the middle of eating when Maya suddenly checked her phone and urged me, “Aren’t you going back? Your brother’s probably going to come dragging you home soon.” I took another sip of beer, annoyed. “What brother?” Maya looked behind me and gloated, “Chloe, good luck.” I turned my head a beat too slow and saw Liam in a black hoodie. He scanned a QR code to pay the bill, called an Uber for Maya, and after seamlessly handling all that, walked over to me. “Chloe, you don’t have a brother?” I explained awkwardly, “I’ve just been on my own for so long, I forgot.” I’d only been living with Liam for a few years. Besides, I was already eighteen when I met him. Subconsciously, I never really saw him as a brother. He was just some kid to me. Moreover, how did he know I was here? The tall, lean figure suddenly leaned down, and I heard him ask, “Are you drunk?” “No.” I’ve always had a high tolerance; I wouldn’t get drunk this easily. But then, Liam held up some fingers and asked how many there were. I just opened my mouth and bit his hand. “Why are you pointing at me…” I heard a soft chuckle near my ear. Liam pinched his earlobe, his tone dark. “I hope you really are drunk.” 04 When I woke up again, it was already noon. Liam had gone to school early. I rubbed my throbbing head and crawled out of bed. Looking in the mirror at a face that shared some resemblance with Liam’s, I suddenly noticed my lips were a bit swollen. Confused, I wondered if I was having an allergic reaction. In the afternoon, when Liam came home, I asked him, “Did you feed me jelly last night?” He raised an eyebrow and asked what was wrong. “Nothing, just felt like it tasted pretty good.” Liam seemed to think of something. He touched his nose, dropped his backpack, and said casually, “Glad you liked it.” I watched him go upstairs, then pulled out my phone to look for birthday presents for him. I was deeply engrossed when Liam’s homeroom teacher called. Liam was a senior now and had always refused to live in the dorms. With only a few months left until finals, even though his grades were excellent, his teacher hoped he would move in. After hanging up, I went upstairs and knocked on Liam’s door. When he opened it, his hair was messy, and he looked exhausted. I asked him what was wrong. He leaned against the doorframe, glanced at me, and said, “Catching up on sleep.” I remembered I was the reason he stayed up late last night and felt a bit guilty. But I still told him about his teacher’s call. Before, when he didn’t want to live on campus, I let him have his way. But finals were approaching, and to give him more time to study, I was very firm about him moving in. Hearing this, Liam lowered his eyes. Seeing that I wasn’t leaving room for negotiation, his expression remained flat as he nodded in agreement. Seeing him agree, I breathed a sigh of relief. If Liam wasn’t home, I wouldn’t have to overthink things. But I celebrated too soon. In the middle of the night, while I was sound asleep, a loud crash woke me up. It sounded like something heavy falling. I rushed out and saw Liam leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. His face was pale, cold sweat on his forehead. When he looked at me, his eyes were dark. I ran down, noticed his swollen red ankle, and anxiously asked what happened. Liam leaned his entire weight on me, his voice hoarse: “I missed a step.” Liam has perfect vision, and the hallway light was on. How could he miss a step? Before I could think too much, Liam rested his head on my shoulder, his breathing rising and falling by my ear. The pain made his breathing erratic. It looked serious. I quickly helped him into the car. In the SUV, leaning against the passenger seat, his voice was weak: “Chloe, buckle me in.” I leaned over him. The scent of crisp mint filled my nose. Just then, Liam lifted his arm slightly, making it look like I was being embraced by him. My heart skipped a beat as I hurriedly buckled him in. Anxious, I sped to the hospital. The doctor looked at Liam’s severely swollen ankle and asked, confused, “How did you fall?” Liam said flatly, “Missed a step coming down the stairs.” The older doctor frowned. “Missing a step wouldn’t cause a fall like this. It looks more like someone…” Before the doctor could finish, Liam interrupted, “Doctor, just prescribe some medicine for now.” The doctor looked at me, then at Liam, and sighed. “I’ll give you an analgesic spray and some ice packs. If it still hurts after a week, come back for another check-up.” 05 Liam is an arrogant kid with a slight germaphobe streak. But he never rejected me. So, I took the initiative to apply the ice packs for him, and then sprayed the medicine on his foot. On the way home, Liam looked out the window and suddenly said, “My foot hurts. Do I still have to live in the dorms?” I sighed. With a foot like that, applying medicine in a dorm would be inconvenient. It was best he stayed home so I could take care of him. “No, I’ll pick you up from school lately.” I casually turned on the car stereo. Liam was staring intently out the window. While waiting at a red light, I glanced over and noticed my reflection in the passenger window. “Does it still hurt?” He looked over, his Adam’s apple bobbing, that small mole highly visible. “It doesn’t hurt.” Because of his leg injury, I picked him up from school every day. Today, I saw a few guys walking next to Liam, seemingly asking him something. Being close, I heard everything. “It’s been three years, and you haven’t dated anyone.” “Yeah, a lot of girls like you, Liam. What exactly is your type?” I rolled down the window and waved at Liam. He said something to the guys and walked over, his steps looking a bit strained. As soon as he sat down, I asked curiously, “What were you guys talking about?” Liam crossed his arms and looked at me sideways. His hair covered his brows, a straight nose, thin lips—he was very good-looking. “Someone older than me.” I nodded in understanding. So he did like older girls. No wonder he’d fall in love at first sight with an older woman. For some reason, hearing him say that made me not want to continue the conversation. Instead, he broke his usual silence and asked me: “The music is so loud. Is the soundproofing good?” I answered without thinking, “Of course. Not only is the soundproofing good, but it’s also spacious. Two adults could lay down in the back seat without feeling cramped.” … Wait, could my car become a prop in his twisted games with the female lead? I shot him a glare and snapped, “Why do you ask?” He raised his hand, his long, thin fingers pinching his earlobe. “Nothing.” This kid, always acting so mysterious. 06 Since Liam had finals coming up, I went into his room at night to spray the medicine and massage his ankle. When I entered, Liam was lying in bed, seemingly napping. High school senior pressure was intense, and with his injured foot, I was genuinely worried. His room was all black and white, simple and clear. I walked in quietly, sat on the edge of the bed, and rolled up his sweatpants. His ankle was swollen, red, and purplish. It hurt just to look at it. How could he fall so badly just missing a step… I sprayed the medicine and gently massaged it the way the doctor showed me. The person on the bed opened his eyes, his dark gaze sweeping over me. He called me in a low voice, “Chloe.” “Hmm?” I focused on massaging his ankle without giving him a glance. “Go to sleep.” After massaging for a while, the person on the bed actually fell asleep. I pulled the covers over him and looked around his room. There was a large bay window behind the black curtains. In the plot, he and the female lead did many inappropriate things there. For instance, the female lead looking out the window, begging pitifully, “Don’t do this.” And beneath the sleek black desk beside it, the space was large enough to fit an adult. I frowned, understanding instantly. I’ve read too much of this stuff; my mind is tainted. Liam’s desk was very tidy. My sharp eyes noticed a black notebook at the very top. I subconsciously reached out to touch it. It seemed to be Liam’s diary. With a black leather cover, the diary seemed as cold and aloof as Liam himself. “Chloe, don’t look.” When did he wake up? Surprised, I pulled my hand back: “I wasn’t looking.” Liam propped himself up, looking exhausted, his voice hoarse: “Chloe, I want some of your noodles.” 07 On the day of our father’s funeral, I took Liam home. The fourteen-year-old locked himself in his room without a word and wouldn’t come out no matter how much I called him. That night, I made a bowl of noodles and left it at his door. In the early hours of the morning, I went out for a drink of water and saw Liam sitting on the floor in the hallway, eating the noodles. He was wolfing it down, completely abandoning his usual composure. I pretended not to see, went downstairs for some hot water, and waited a long time before returning to my room. The next morning, when I went downstairs, someone was washing dishes in the kitchen. The boy, wearing an apron, poked his head out and politely said, “Good morning, sis.” Remembering the past, I couldn’t help but smile: “Okay, I’ll go make some.” I happened to have a handful of noodles left. In the pot, the water was boiling violently. Watching the noodles toss and turn in the boiling water, I couldn’t help but think that in the predestined plot, we were just like these noodles in the pot—helpless duckweeds in the rushing river of fate. Lost in thought, a pair of strong arms suddenly wrapped around my waist. Stunned, I was about to push him away when I heard the person behind me say, “I miss Dad.” When he said that, I simply couldn’t refuse him. Liam rested his head on my shoulder, his warm breath tickling my ear. He whispered, “Chloe, don’t be nervous.” I wasn’t nervous, just felt a bit unnatural. After a long pause, he sighed and murmured to himself, “Sister, we were always meant to be the closest of people.” Liam’s heart was beating like a drum against my back. I felt a wave of dizziness. …

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “409210”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel