Category: English

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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I can understand animals. The day my dad decided to take me on a trip to the wilderness, the stray cats downstairs were holding a meeting. “The poor kid. She has no idea her dad’s getting remarried.” “Worse, the new stepmom is pregnant and doesn’t like her. They’re planning to take her out to the middle of nowhere and leave her.” “We’ll never get any more of her fishy treats. Let’s have a little cry.” I already knew. I just didn’t let on. I just gave them their fishy treats one last time, a thoughtful goodbye. Suddenly, a little tabby I’d never seen before padded over and sniffed me. “Human, you want a new dad?” it meowed. “Just say the word, and I’ll bring him to you.” 1 I bought my fishy treats with the lunch money I saved. Two dollars a day. Ten dollars a week. Enough for a ten-pack of treats. There were six strays living around our apartment building. But Ginger wasn’t one of them. Ginger was my sister. When I was three, Mom brought Ginger home. She smiled at me and said, “Annie, you’re a big sister now. You have to take good care of Ginger.” Ginger just puffed up her fur and meowed indignantly. “I’m the sister! I’m the boss!” Everyone loved Ginger at first. But as soon as Mom got sick and passed away, Dad threw her out. He hated Ginger. He hated the way she shed. He hated her for scratching people and clawing the sofa. He hated her constant “meowing.” But Ginger wasn’t just meowing. She was talking. She was saying, “I’m hungry.” “My water bowl is empty.” “I’m so bored, come play with me!” Just like now. I was crouched down, feeding her. As she ate, she purred, “So yummy, so yummy!” and then asked, “Is your dad taking you on a trip? How long will you be gone?” Patches, the little calico, swatted her. “It’s not a trip, you dummy! He’s ditching her! I heard him on the phone in the garage!” Oreo, the black-and-white kitten, chimed in. “I heard it too! Her stepmom is pregnant, and they’re planning to take her deep into the wilderness.” “Oh my gosh! Does that mean we’ll never get treats from her again?” “Let’s have a little cry.” The cats erupted into a chorus of worried meows. Only the tabby I’d never seen before walked over, circling me once before letting out a soft meow. “Human, you want a new dad? My dad needs a daughter. He’s the best. If you want him, I’ll bring him to you.” A new dad? But… “I already have a dad.” 2 When I got home, Jenna was there. She and Dad were fighting again. I stood outside the door, listening to her sobbing. “Just give me a straight answer. When are you getting rid of that kid? She talks to cats and dogs all day. Who knows if she’s autistic or schizophrenic or something? I’m starting to show! If we don’t have the wedding soon, what’s our son going to think when he’s born, having to live with a psycho?” Jenna didn’t like me. She didn’t like how quiet I was. She didn’t like that I couldn’t say sweet, flattering things. And she especially hated it when I went downstairs to feed Ginger. She was always telling Dad there was something wrong with me. That I was autistic. That only schizophrenics claim they can understand animals. At first, Dad didn’t believe her. But slowly, he started to resent me too. He hated that I was so quiet. He hated how slow I was, how I dawdled. When money went missing from the house, he’d slap me without a second thought, forcing me to confess. “It’s just you and Jenna in this house. If it wasn’t you, was it her?” He was never like this when Mom was alive. I opened the door, and their conversation died instantly. Jenna choked back her tears and went into her room. Dad glanced at me but said nothing. It wasn’t until I had my shoes off and was opening my bedroom door that he finally spoke. “Annie,” he called out. “You’ve always wanted to see the great plains, haven’t you? Your eighth birthday is the day after tomorrow… I’ll take you.” So it was true. He was going to leave me there. A knot of sadness tightened in my chest. But I didn’t let on. I just nodded softly. “Okay.” 3 Dad wouldn’t let me leave the house anymore. He kept me locked inside while he went out early every morning, telling anyone who would listen that he was taking me on a special trip, putting on a show of being a doting father. “It’s her birthday wish, you know? You have to make a kid’s wish come true.” I didn’t see it myself. Ginger told me. She was too scared to come near the apartment, afraid he’d hurt her. So she’d just call up from the darkness below my window late at night. “Hey, kiddo! Hey!” “Your dad’s really gonna do it. He’s gonna ditch you.” “Are you gonna run? You gotta run!” Afraid Dad would hear, I couldn’t shout back. I just stuck my head out the window, shook it, and whispered, “I can’t.” “Okay, got it.” She flicked her tail and vanished. All the cats disappeared after that. By the time Dad loaded me into the car on the day we were leaving, I hadn’t seen any of them. A part of me was sad. Sad that I hadn’t saved up for more treats. Sad that I didn’t spend a little more time with them that last day. Sad that as the car pulled away from our building, the street behind us was completely empty. I was so lost in my sadness that I didn’t even hear Dad tell me to sit properly and close my eyes for a nap. He got angry. His voice suddenly sharp, he snapped, “Annie, I told you to sit still! How many times do I have to tell you to listen?” His impatience was the same as when he forbade me from feeding Ginger, the same as when he demanded I suck up to Jenna. I used to hesitate, taking forever to find the right placating words. “I know, Daddy.” But now, I didn’t know what to say at all. Just then, after passing through an intersection, the car sputtered with a loud thump-thump and rolled to a stop. Dad’s attention was diverted. He got out to check, muttering under his breath, “Damn it! The fuel tank’s leaking.” He pulled a reflective triangle from the trunk, set it up behind the car, and started making a call. The tow truck arrived quickly, hauling our car to the nearest repair shop. I sat in the waiting room, listening to my dad. “How long will it take? It’s my kid’s birthday, and I promised her a road trip to the plains. Can we get it back today?” The mechanic had arms covered in tattoos and a tough-looking face, but his smile was warm. “Takin’ the kid out, huh? Sure thing. I’ll bump you to the front of the line. Looks like a busted connection pipe. An hour, maybe a little more, and you’ll be on your way. Won’t ruin your trip.” Dad agreed and told me not to wander off before stepping outside to call Jenna. He didn’t need to worry. I wouldn’t run. Mom didn’t have any family. My grandparents didn’t like me. Even if I ran, I had nowhere to go. But… staying felt like I had nowhere to go either. My eyes started to burn. I felt that familiar lump in my throat. But Dad hated it when I cried. Terrified he’d see, I quickly rubbed my eyes. Just then, a piercing shriek cut through the air from outside the shop. It was Ginger. “Annie! Annie!” she wailed. “It hurts, it hurts so bad! Come here! You have to come here!” Ginger was hurt? I shot to my feet. But when I stepped outside, I couldn’t see her. I only saw my dad, standing a short distance away, still on the phone. Ginger’s cries were coming from the opposite direction. Not wanting to bother Dad, I hesitated for a moment, then broke into a run toward the sound of her voice, turning into a narrow alley. But Ginger wasn’t in the alley. Only her voice, echoing off the walls. The closer I got, the farther away her cries seemed. No matter how fast I ran, she was always just ahead, calling to me. “Over here, come over here!” Her voice grew more pained, more desperate. My heart pounded. I ran for what felt like miles, crossing several streets until I finally spotted her beneath a large office building across an intersection. But as I got closer, Ginger vanished. And another cat leaped out. It was the little tabby. He clamped his teeth onto my pant leg and started pulling me toward the building’s entrance. Just then, a few people came out. One of them was a man in a sharp suit, but his shoulders were slumped and his face was a mask of misery. When he saw the tabby, his eyes lit up. With a loud sob, he rushed forward, dropping to his knees and scooping the cat into a tearful embrace. “Rocky? Is that you? Oh, Rocky! Daddy missed you so much!” The tabby, Rocky, didn’t let go of my pants. He just gave the man’s face a few impatient smacks with his paw while letting out a series of urgent, muffled meows. “Dad! Stray human! Quick, before she’s gone!” 4 Rocky’s little paws made soft pat-pat sounds against the man’s face, leaving faint red marks on his cheeks. But the man didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he looked moved, nuzzling his face against the cat’s head. “Oh, yes, that’s my Rocky. That’s the right amount of force.” A small crowd was gathering. Someone gently cleared their throat to get his attention. He finally opened his tear-filled eyes, wiped them, and noticed me for the first time. “Where did this child come from?” Someone pointed to my pant leg, still firmly in Rocky’s mouth. “It looks like your cat brought her here. He’s not letting go, and I don’t see any parents around. Maybe you should take her upstairs and call the police.” The man let go of Rocky, but the cat just continued his muffled, insistent meows, tugging me toward the building. The man nodded. “Alright, let’s go inside first.” Only then did Rocky release my pants, giving his dad’s hair a rewarding lick. “Good dad,” he purred. “So obedient.” I shouldn’t have gone with them. I was so worried about Ginger. But the words of protest got stuck in my throat. Before I could form a sentence, Rocky’s dad had scooped him up with one arm and taken my hand with the other. By the time I’d figured out what to say, I was already sitting in a big office. “I… I shouldn’t—” “Hey there, little one. My name is Mr. Pierce. You can call me Sean. What’s your name? Where are your parents?” Mr. Pierce—Sean—asked me gently. When I didn’t answer, he knelt down, his voice patient. “Do you remember where you live? What about a phone number? Do you remember your mom or dad’s number?” It had been so long since anyone had spoken so many words to me. Ever since Jenna said I was sick six months ago, Dad stopped taking me to school. At home, Jenna barely spoke to me, and Dad didn’t like it when I talked. If I said the wrong thing, he’d get angry. If I spoke too slowly, he’d get angry. Soon, I stopped talking to anyone but the cats and dogs. Worried I’d say the wrong thing now, I thought and thought, but before I could come up with an answer, Rocky started meowing for me. “She doesn’t have a mom. Her dad’s bad.” “She doesn’t have a home.” “No phone number.” “Dad, Cat is giving her to you. You be her dad now!” Rocky rubbed against Sean’s leg, answering for me. Sean didn’t understand, of course. He just scooped Rocky into his arms and started stroking his fur. “My Rocky is such a good, kind-hearted kitty. Don’t you worry, we’ll call the police right away and make sure this little girl gets home safe.” Rocky got so frustrated he started batting at him. “I told you, she has, no, home! She has no home! Old man! Take her, to our, house!” But Sean just laughed, his eyes crinkling. “Hahaha, Rocky, Rocky! You really love your daddy, don’t you?” It seemed Rocky wasn’t wrong. His dad really was nice. A pang of envy went through me. My chest felt tight and sour. I watched them for a long time, and finally, I gathered all my courage and spoke in a small voice. “Can you… not call the police?” 5 I knew what would happen. If he called the police, they would take me home. And then Dad would yell at me. He’d yell at me for running off, for not listening. Then Jenna would start crying, and he’d still end up taking me away. Now that I’d already run away, it would save Dad a long drive. It was all the same in the end. I… I didn’t want to be yelled at. And I didn’t want to be hit. “I… I don’t want to go home.” I buried my face in my hands, my voice barely a whisper. But Sean heard me. He looked at Rocky, then back at me. The smile vanished from his face as understanding seemed to dawn on him. He stood up and said something quietly to the man who had helped him earlier. Once the man left, Sean knelt in front of me again, placing Rocky in my lap. “Can you watch Rocky for me for a little bit? Don’t let him run off,” he said softly. “I have something I need to take care of, and I can’t look after him right now.” He was crouched so low I could see into his eyes without lifting my head. His eyes were so kind. They seemed to hold a light in them. I couldn’t refuse. Before I knew it, I had nodded. “Okay.” He left, leaving me and Rocky alone in the big office. Rocky licked the back of my hand. “My dad’s nice, right?” he purred. “Ginger and I worked hard to get you here. Don’t you go running off. Just stick with Cat and you’ll be fine.” I froze for a second. Tears welled in my eyes. So Ginger was okay? And the leak in Dad’s fuel tank… the cats did that? All so I wouldn’t be taken away? The cats were so good to me. But Mom always said not to be a bother to people. Even though I couldn’t stay… “Thank you, Rocky.” Rocky’s fur bristled. “I’m not just some tabby! I’m a magnificent Bengal! Bengal!” I nodded, hugging him tighter and wiping my blurry eyes. “Ben-gal,” I repeated.

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It was New Year’s Eve, and my brother, Finn, suddenly tagged our parents in the family chat—parents who’d been dead for ten years. “I’ve decided to forgive big brother. You two can stop pretending now!” Right after, Dad’s profile picture, a frowning emoji, popped up: “Finn, didn’t we agree to punish him until you got married? Why the sudden change of heart?” Mom’s angry emoji followed: “If it weren’t for him ten years ago, Finn wouldn’t have been stuck in that wheelchair all this time!” Then she tagged me: “You should be grateful for Finn’s kind heart. That’s why you get to see us so soon and join us for dinner tonight. Come back and thank him properly!” It hit me then. The car crash ten years ago—it was all a charade. A staged death, orchestrated by them, just to punish me because I’d accidentally pushed Finn down the stairs. But they didn’t know. I wouldn’t be making it to their long-awaited family dinner, not after ten years. To pay off their debts and put Finn through school, I’d worked over fifty hours straight. I’d died, slumped over my desk at work. 1. Half an hour passed since Mom’s message, and the chat remained silent on my end. Dad frowned: “Still no reply from the kid. Could he be mad we faked our deaths to punish him?” “Forget him. If it weren’t for him, Finn wouldn’t have broken his leg and still be unable to walk.” Mom emerged from the kitchen, scoffing dismissively as she placed a plate of braised ribs in front of Finn. “Making him raise Finn for ten years was already the lightest punishment.” Finn beamed: “Thanks, Mom, for making my favorite ribs every year.” Dad looked at Finn, a troubled expression on his face. “But we left him with a huge debt. He has to pay five hundred a month, plus taking care of Finn…” Mom smiled faintly, stroking Finn’s hair. Then she glared at Dad: “You’re too soft. If that brute isn’t tempered, he’ll end up in trouble sooner or later. We’re doing this for his own good.” She paused. “Besides, Finn’s leg is a lifelong injury. All that money is in our accounts. Consider it Finn’s future life fund!” Dad’s doubts vanished. “You’re right. If it weren’t for him, Finn would’ve had a happy life. If he’s sulking and doesn’t come back tonight, then we’ll never bother with him again.” But just as he finished speaking, a jarring phone rang. Mom frowned: “It’s New Year’s, why is your office calling again?” Dad didn’t respond, pulling out his phone. It was an unknown number. He answered, and a hurried voice came through. “Is this Elias’s family? Elias suffered a cerebral hemorrhage due to excessive overtime and has been rushed to the ER. Please come to St. Jude’s Hospital immediately!” Before Dad could speak, Mom snatched the phone, her voice impatient: “Is this Elias, that good-for-nothing, putting you up to this? Tell him that he hurt Finn’s leg, and ten years of punishment was already lenient. If he has any conscience left, he’ll come back and apologize to Finn again!” “Otherwise, don’t bother coming back home!” With that, she hung up and blocked the number, all in one swift motion. She tossed the phone back to Dad, scoffing: “That scoundrel is just trying to avoid apologizing to Finn, trying to make us bow down!” She paused. “Don’t answer any more calls like this. I want to see what other tricks he can pull!” She then smiled at Finn: “Finn, Mom will make a few more of your favorite dishes.” With a sway, she walked back into the kitchen. My soul hovered above, witnessing their conversation, finally understanding everything. When I was fifteen, I accidentally knocked my eight-year-old brother, Finn, down the stairs. After a hospital visit, Finn was diagnosed with a comminuted fracture, condemning him to a wheelchair for life. My parents told me it was an accident, that it was okay. They showered me with affection, terrified I’d be scarred by guilt. Two months later, they died in a car crash on their way home from the hospital. In their final moments, they clutched my hand, tears streaming down their faces. “We’re most worried about your brother. He’s only eight and has lost the use of his legs. You must take good care of him.” With those words, they passed away. The day after their funeral, a group of shadowy figures showed up, claiming my parents owed a massive debt. They threatened to kill me and Finn if I didn’t pay up. So, I took on the burden, dropped out of school early, and every month, besides supporting Finn and putting him through school, I had to pay five hundred towards the debt. With no degree, I could only do manual labor, juggling multiple jobs a day. Every evening, I felt half-dead. Finn always said he felt insecure, so apart from the five hundred, I’d transfer all my remaining money to him at the end of the month, reassuring him I’d never abandon him. This went on for ten years. But I never imagined it was all a staged punishment, a twisted game they played to get back at me for Finn. Between seven and eight o’clock that evening, Dad received several more calls from unknown numbers, but he dutifully ignored them, as Mom had instructed. Mom washed her hands, came out, and sat down, a cold smile on her face. “Looks like he’s still not giving up, but he was the one who messed up first. There’s no way we’ll back down!” Dad stammered, “They all sounded really panicked. Could something actually have happened to Elias…” At this, Finn pulled out the last e-gift card I’d sent him an hour ago. “This is the gift Elias just sent me. Dad, the first call you got was around this time too. He called me then and said he’d be home soon. He’s not back yet, so he must be angry with me.” Seeing this, Dad breathed a sigh of relief, then scoffed: “That rotten kid, almost had me fooled!” He paused. “If he’s not coming back, then he shouldn’t. He can rot outside for all I care!” As he wished, I was already dead. 2. At nine o’clock that evening, a knock echoed through the house. Everyone’s heads snapped towards the door. Mom smirked: “That brat. I knew he wouldn’t last long. He’ll come begging for our forgiveness eventually!” Finn spoke up, pleading for me: “When Elias comes back, I don’t need his apology. As long as our family is safe and sound, that’s all that matters.” Dad put down his newspaper, shaking his head. “Finn, you’re too kind. If you forgive him so easily, he’ll only take advantage. Even if the punishment ends, in Mom and Dad’s hearts, he’ll never measure up to you.” With that, Dad opened the door, ready to speak, but found it wasn’t me standing there. “Mom, we’re coming to see you tomorrow. Why are you here so late?” An elderly figure walked in. It was Grandma Rose! Since Mom and Dad’s “deaths” ten years ago, Grandma Rose had done everything she could to help me. And no matter how busy I was, I always made sure to visit her before nine every New Year’s Eve. This year, she must have not seen me, and that worried her. Grandma Rose ignored Dad, her face grim as she entered. Dad quickly poured a glass of water and offered it to her, but she slapped it away. “Mom, you…” Dad started to speak, but Grandma Rose pointed at Finn, her voice icy: “Robert Miller, you’re a piece of work. Just because Elias accidentally hurt him ten years ago, you punished him for a decade! He didn’t mean it! Do you have any idea what Elias went through these past ten years?” She continued, almost to herself. “He was just a kid, a mere child, and so kind…” A heavy stone seemed to press on my heart. She was so old, yet she’d walked miles in the cold to find me, still worried. I truly was despicable! At that moment, Finn wheeled over. “Grandma, please don’t be angry. Mom and Dad were just worried I’d be upset.” But Grandma Rose didn’t even look at him properly. “You upset? Falling down and ending up with a comminuted fracture? I want to see if that leg of yours is truly broken!” With that, Grandma Rose reached out to pull him up, but Mom blocked her. “Mom, I respect you as an elder, but Finn is my most beloved child. If anything happens to him, don’t blame me for being unkind!” Dad shielded them both, looking at Grandma Rose with alert eyes. “Mom, we’ll naturally visit you tomorrow, but Finn isn’t in a good mood today. You should go home early.” Seeing this, Grandma Rose’s eyes welled up. “Fine… fine… I’ll go. I’ll go find Elias. He must be suffering somewhere.” Worried about Grandma Rose, I followed her out, but for some reason, I couldn’t stray too far from Mom and Dad. 3. Luckily, on New Year’s Day morning, I found myself with Mom and Dad, visiting Grandma Rose. She sat by the fire, clutching the old flip phone I’d given her. I knew she was waiting for my call, but none ever came. She must have been in such agony. I’m sorry, Grandma. I’m dead. I can never see you again. Due to Finn’s situation, Mom and Dad didn’t linger. They left after a quick visit. As they visited other elders, many praised my yearly devotion to Grandma Rose. Mom and Dad merely offered casual replies. On the way back, Dad frowned. “Elias has a pretty good reputation with everyone. Maybe we really were biased against him.” He paused. “He hasn’t come back for so long…” Mom didn’t speak, but a hint of worry clouded her face. They rushed home. Seeing them, Finn’s face showed a hint of grievance. “Mom, Dad, Grandma isn’t still mad at me, is she?” He paused. “She must dislike me because you punished Elias. Maybe you should go find him quickly. Although, I just saw his latest post on social media…” At this, Dad immediately grabbed Finn’s shoulder: “What did you say?” He asked. “You said Elias just posted something? Let me see!” Mom’s worried expression also eased a bit. Finn winced in pain. Dad quickly released him: “Finn, I’m sorry, but where’s the photo you mentioned?” Finn smiled and said it was nothing, but as he looked down to find the photo, a shadow of malice flickered in his eyes. Then, he produced a picture. In it, I was drinking with a few friends. The caption read: “New year, time for all the irrelevant people and things to get lost!” Seeing this, Mom’s face immediately contorted in fury. “That rotten kid! He called us irrelevant! If he doesn’t want to come back, then he shouldn’t. He can die outside for all I care!” Dad also scoffed. “A leopard can’t change its spots. Always fooling around outside. I bet those old folks in the village were tricked by his act!” But I saw it clearly. That photo was from last year, when some friends had taken me out to dinner because they thought I was too stressed. And the caption wasn’t that at all! Then, Dad apologized to Finn again. “Finn, I’m sorry. I accidentally hurt you just now. You can tell me anything you want.” Finn rubbed his eyes: “It’s okay. Elias is also Mom and Dad’s child, so it’s right to care about him.” He paused. “But since Dad wants to make it up to me, how about taking me to the amusement park?”

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My parents bought me a beachfront villa, but my husband gave it to his secretary. Scarlett Bridgeforth posted a nine-grid photo of a pool party on social media, complete with a location tag: [Thank you to Mr. Hayes for the luxurious villa! I’ll definitely work even harder!] The photos sent by the housekeeper showed the garden sculptures smashed, and all the flowers I had planted dug up. I threw the photos directly at Alistair Hayes. [Mr. Hayes, what is the meaning of this? Why are other people in my villa?] Alistair immediately replied with a voice message, the sound of ocean waves in the background. [Don’t be so petty. We have plenty of places to stay.] [Within three hours, I want her out of there, and the villa restored to its original state.] Alistair read my message but didn’t reply. Five minutes later, I auctioned off the villa for one dollar. His antique collection was smashed to smithereens. If someone doesn’t listen, I don’t mind teaching them a lesson. 1 No sooner had I put down my phone than it rang. It was Alistair, who had just read my message without replying. “Natalie Wilson! What have you done?! Why was Scarlett kicked out by security?!” Alistair’s voice was clearly angry. My tone was calm. “That villa is mine. I just sold it.” “The new owner’s only request was to clear out all people and things within an hour.” Silence fell for a few seconds on the other end of the line. “Natalie, have you misunderstood something?” “There’s nothing going on between me and Scarlett. She’s just my secretary.” Alistair’s tone softened slightly. “Don’t you think your approach is too aggressive? And a bit too sensitive.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Alistair, you’re the one who doesn’t know how to avoid suspicion, who doesn’t know how to keep himself clean. How dare you turn around and accuse me?” Alistair didn’t answer the question, skillfully changing the subject. “Natalie, you have so many other villas; it’s a waste to leave them empty. I was just making reasonable use of resources.” “Scarlett and I really haven’t done anything inappropriate.” He paused, his voice growing somewhat impatient. “Don’t be so petty.” I curved my lips, but my eyes turned cold. “Since Mr. Hayes is so generous, I presume you won’t mind your precious darlings turning into a pile of junk, will you?” With that, I opened my photo album and sent him a few pictures. In the photos, Alistair’s cherished antique collection, accumulated over many years, was smashed to smithereens, fragments scattered across the floor. Silence for a few seconds on the other end of the line. “Natalie. Wilson.” He enunciated my full name, word by word. I knew this was a sign of his extreme anger. But I didn’t care. “Alistair, you must have seen the photos, right?” “That’s the price for trying to challenge my boundaries.” “If you dare to cross the line again, what you’ll lose will be far more than just these worthless trinkets.” With that, I hung up the phone. In these years of marriage, we rarely had fierce arguments. But this didn’t mean I would back down out of fear of conflict. Once the bottom line in a marriage starts to recede, it only leads to the other party taking more and more liberties. What’s more, the beginning of this marriage was not based on pure love. The Hayes family was eager to enter the core of New York City’s elite, needing the assistance of my family, the Wilsons, and thus this commercial marriage was arranged. When we first met, Alistair certainly showed his thoughtfulness and gentleness. And his face was quite deceptive; he handled matters meticulously and appropriately. I thought at the time that perhaps living with such a person wouldn’t be too bad, so I didn’t object to my family’s arrangements. Fortunately, in the course of our marriage, we gradually developed feelings for each other. He and I also had a rather sweet period, once regarded by outsiders as a perfect match. However, no matter the stage, I always clearly understood the importance of putting myself first. Later, intense passion faded, and life settled into a steady rhythm. I could understand and accept that all feelings eventually move towards a quieter state, or even dissipate. But I would absolutely not allow the cause of that dissipation to be the intervention of a third party. From childhood, the thing I most detested was others touching my belongings. If an item became dirty, I would discard it without hesitation. If a person became soiled, the treatment would be the same. 2 Alistair hadn’t contacted me again. He was always like this; once his mistakes were exposed, he would choose silence to escape. That is, until this afternoon, when a message from Mia popped up on my phone. “Natalie, why aren’t you answering me?! I saw you in the venue just now and called your name for ages, but you didn’t respond.” I frowned slightly, quickly replying, “I didn’t go out today. You must have seen wrong.” “It really wasn’t you? I saw that sapphire blue mermaid gown you had custom-made, along with your husband, Mr. Hayes.” “Natalie, wait, I got a front shot.” A photo quickly appeared on my phone. Alistair in a perfectly tailored black suit. And Scarlett beside him, wearing my high-fashion gown, smiling and chatting with someone. I stared at the photo for a full ten seconds. Before I could even react, another message popped up on my phone. This time it was Alistair’s chief assistant, with a screenshot attached. It was Scarlett’s social media post. [First time attending the Skyline Auction. Thank you, Mr. Hayes, for showing me the world. Finally, I know what true high society is [heart emoji.jpg].] The accompanying picture showed her sitting in a front-row seat at the auction, Alistair beside her, a slight smile playing on his lips, clearly tacitly approving of her selfie and caption. I suddenly remembered something: Alistair hated being photographed. Even during our sweetest days, if I wanted to take a couple’s photo, he would frown and refuse. It seemed my morning’s punishment had been too light. Not only did he dare to bring another woman to the most exclusive auction in high society, but he even let her wear my clothes and tacitly allowed her to post a photo of them together on social media to show off. I forwarded the photo directly to Alistair. “Explain this. Why is my dress on her?” The message showed as read, but there was no reply. A few minutes later, I took a picture and sent it over. Mia’s message immediately popped up. “Natalie! What did you send Mr. Hayes?! He suddenly stood up and rushed out, and Scarlett couldn’t even hold him back.” I didn’t reply to my friend because Alistair’s call was already coming in. In the photo I sent, I was sitting in front of the fireplace, holding a meticulously crafted small wooden box. The surface of the box was spotless, clearly cleaned and maintained regularly. “Natalie, put that down.” Alistair’s voice trembled slightly, carrying clear panic and anger. “What are you trying to do?” Inside the wooden box were some carefully preserved items. A few yellowed photographs, a bracelet, and an exquisite jade pendant. The girl in the photos had a bright smile. This was Alistair’s “white moonlight,” his first love who had died of illness. His family had mentioned it unintentionally. I suddenly understood the reason for all of Alistair’s recent abnormal behavior: Scarlett bore a striking seven or eight-tenths resemblance to his “white moonlight.” “Natalie, don’t touch those things!” Alistair’s voice was almost a plea. “Alistair, you know I always hate it when people touch my things.” “Just as you feel right now.” “Now, immediately make Scarlett take off that dress. There’s a changing room at the auction house. Make her change.” Silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds. “Natalie, don’t you only wear those dresses once? What’s wrong with letting her wear clothes you don’t want anymore?” I chuckled, my tone growing colder. “Alistair, even if I don’t want my things, I won’t allow others to touch them.” “You now have two choices.” “Either make Scarlett take off that dress before the auction starts, or…” I rattled the box in my hand, the items inside making faint colliding sounds. “Suffer the consequences.” With that, I hung up the phone directly. 3 In the time that followed, Mia’s messages kept popping up. “Natalie! What did you say to him?!” “Your Mr. Hayes rushed in, his face pale, and dragged Scarlett out without a word.” “Wait, they’re back!” “My God, what’s going on? Scarlett is wearing… a cleaner’s uniform?!” I curved my lips. This result was even better than I had anticipated. “Natalie, Scarlett’s expression, my goodness, it’s priceless!” “Everyone is looking at them both, whispering. I’m starting to get second-hand embarrassment.” “Mia, take some pictures for me.” Mia quickly sent a few photos. In the pictures, Alistair sat impassively. And Scarlett, in a clearly ill-fitting gray uniform, her makeup smudged, her eyes red and swollen. “This auction has an extremely high entry bar; you’re not allowed to leave halfway through. That girl will have to sit through the entire event in a cleaning uniform.” Mia’s tone was filled with schadenfreude. “Your Mr. Hayes’s face is as black as a pot.” “Natalie, your move was brilliant.” “Scarlett, too. Of all people to provoke, she dared to provoke you. In the end, she probably won’t even know how she died.” After the auction ended, Mia sent another message. “When they left, your husband’s face was already liver-colored, and Scarlett was sobbing uncontrollably.” Mia sent a new photo. That sapphire blue mermaid gown was now discarded in a trash can. “Natalie, photo’s taken.” I immediately posted the photo on social media, simply adding a caption: [Trash belongs in the trash can.] In less than five minutes, the post had over a hundred likes. Smart people could tell at a glance that the dress in the trash can was the very one Scarlett had flaunted in her social media post. My meaning was self-evident. “Natalie, Mr. Hayes lost so much face today. He won’t cause you trouble when he gets home, will he?” I calmly replied, “Don’t worry. Even if he had more guts, he wouldn’t dare.” That evening, Alistair returned, his presence heavy with anger, and walked directly up to me. “Natalie Wilson, where are my things?” He spoke, his voice hoarse. I simply stared at him, saying nothing. Alistair tried desperately to suppress his emotions. “Natalie, I admit my behavior today was inappropriate.” “It was my fault for not considering your feelings.” “But I already did as you asked, losing face in front of everyone.” “Can you please stop making a fuss and give me back my things?” I raised an eyebrow. “Alistair, you lost face because of your own inappropriate behavior, not because of me.” “Aren’t you going to explain what happened today?” Alistair avoided my gaze. “We have a purely subordinate relationship. I was just rewarding Scarlett for doing good work.” I sneered, pressing closer. “Alistair, there are so many ways to give a reward. Why did you choose the worst one?” “A luxury villa, an auction, an exorbitant gown—you know very well what these symbolize for an ordinary girl.” “You wouldn’t even take a couple’s photo when I asked, but you were willing to appear with her.” “Every one of your indulgences gave her positive reinforcement. That’s why she became more arrogant, even daring to provoke me.” “And, does her meager work ability truly deserve your rewards?” Alistair remained silent. “Your favoritism towards her is just because she closely resembles your ‘white moonlight,’ isn’t it?” I directly pierced through his thoughts. “But a stand-in is always a stand-in. She can never become that person.” “Alistair, you need to distinguish.” His breathing grew heavy; he remained silent. I pulled the small wooden box from behind me and handed it to him, my voice softening. “Alistair, I understand your obsession with her, and I never intended to destroy the beauty between you two.” “But I hope you won’t destroy the beauty between us either.” “Today’s incident is the first, and it must be the last.” Alistair took the small wooden box and set it aside, then hugged me tightly. “Natalie, I’m sorry.” His voice was hoarse. “I truly know I was wrong.” “Scarlett and I really have no other relationship. I will definitely stay far away from her from now on.” “This kind of thing will absolutely never happen again. Please don’t be angry anymore, okay?” His voice was pleading, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I sighed softly, finally choosing to compromise. Then I looked up and bit hard on his lip. Not until blood seeped from the corner of his mouth did I release him, satisfied. “This is the consequence of offending me. Remember, there must never be a next time.” “Okay.” Alistair showed no impatience, his eyes filled with fervent heat. He scooped me up in his arms and carried me into the room.

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I have congenital analgesia, a condition that means I feel no physical pain. My family saw me as a pawn for an advantageous marriage, offering me to Sterling Cumming, a ruthless figure in the business world. Everyone placed bets, knowing I couldn’t feel pain and he felt no pity. What kind of bleak end awaited this marriage? Then, his secretary deliberately spilled hot tea on me, eager to watch me suffer. I merely said, “It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt.” He immediately blacklisted the secretary from the entire industry. That night, he physically taught me, over and over again: “Darling, not feeling pain doesn’t mean you aren’t injured. Just like now. Even if you don’t utter a sound, you’ll still struggle to walk tomorrow, understood?” 1. I was diagnosed with congenital analgesia when I was a child. My father’s reaction wasn’t worry, but regret. “What a pity, such a good tool for an alliance, but it has a flaw.” My stepmother, however, came up with a brilliant plan. She packaged my analgesia as a supreme virtue: “emotionally stable, always composed.” In family meetings, she’ vehemently pitched to everyone: “Think about it, what socialite’s wife can endure beatings and scolding without crying or making a scene, always maintaining the family’s dignity? This isn’t a defect; this is a perfect wife tailor-made for a prominent family!” And so, the Campbell family finally ascended to the esteemed Cumming family, a height they had always aspired to reach. Surprisingly, Sterling Cumming himself agreed. On our wedding night, Sterling stood alone by the vast floor-to-ceiling window. He didn’t turn to glance at me, leaving only a frigid remark. “From now on, we’ll each get what we need and not interfere with one another.” Having said that, he walked straight to his study. The door clicked shut, separating two worlds. I sat alone on the cold marital bed. There was no sense of loss, no feeling of injustice. I had long grown accustomed to being alone. And so, Sterling and I began our lives as roommates, each in our separate rooms. He left early and returned late; I kept to myself. In the vast mansion, our encounters were rare. Our conversations were shorter than a weather report. Only occasionally, when we happened to cross paths, if he saw me walking barefoot on the floor, he would instinctively frown and ask the housekeeper to bring me slippers. He would watch me, ensuring I put them on before he left. This fragile peace was utterly shattered the first time we returned to the Cumming family estate for a family dinner. Sterling’s relatives sat around, looking at me as if I were a rare animal in a zoo, their whispers sharp and cutting. “Look, that’s the one from the Campbell family. I hear she can’t feel pain.” “What does Sterling see in her? That she won’t cry even if she’s hurt?” “I heard she doesn’t even know when she’s bleeding from an injury. How unlucky to live with someone like that.” These words, like a tide, washed over me, all falling into my ears. I took a deep breath. Just as I was about to get up and go for a walk, an uninvited guest appeared. “Juliet, why are you sitting here all alone? Are you not used to it?” 2. A gentle female voice sounded beside me. I looked up and saw Clara Leigh, Sterling Cumming’s childhood friend. She was originally the destined bride for the Cumming family. Unfortunately, she had wavered between Sterling and another rising entrepreneur. Sterling had seen through her subtle maneuverings. Consequently, he chose the arranged marriage offered by the Campbell family and married me instead. Clara was wearing a pink gown today. Her makeup was exquisite, and her smile radiant, as if she were the hostess here. “Come, don’t be so reserved. We’re family now.” She affectionately linked her arm through mine, feigning to introduce me into the circle of prominent ladies. As we walked, she seemed to suddenly trip on something, her body lurching towards me. I felt something sharply poke my arm. Beyond that, I felt nothing else. I looked down. I saw the ornate diamond brooch on Clara’s gown. The pin had pierced deeply into my forearm. When she pulled it out, a string of bright red blood beads emerged. “Oh dear! I’m so sorry, so sorry! Juliet, are you alright? Does it hurt?” Clara gasped dramatically, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. All eyes were fixed on my bleeding arm and my calm, unruffled face. I shook my head, gently pulling my arm back. I took a handkerchief from my pocket and pressed it against the small, bleeding puncture. “It’s fine.” Seeing my reaction, a hint of triumphant disdain flashed in Clara’s eyes. She then turned to the crowd, chuckling with a pitying, helpless tone: “See, everyone? I told you Juliet is different. Brother Sterling… sigh, he really married a doll who can’t even flirt.” A chorus of knowing chuckles rippled through the room. My expression remained serene. But in their eyes, this was interpreted as numbness, dullness, even stupidity. I had long grown accustomed to such misunderstandings. I had also grown accustomed to hiding my true feelings beneath the guise of congenital analgesia. Just then, a voice so cold it could freeze the air came from behind the crowd. “What are you all laughing at?” It was Sterling. 3. He stood there, unnoticed until now, his face grim. His gaze didn’t linger on anyone. Instead, it cut straight through the crowd, landing on the handkerchief pressing against my wound. Clara’s smile froze. She immediately adopted a wronged and concerned expression, rushing towards him. “Brother Sterling, you’re here!” Sterling didn’t even glance at her. He strode to my side and gently removed my hand from the wound. He stared at the still-seeping pinprick, his brows furrowed in a deep frown. His gaze wasn’t like someone looking at an injury; it was as if he were scrutinizing a cherished item that had been deliberately damaged. For a moment, I wondered if I was hallucinating. The entire ballroom fell into a sudden, hushed silence. “Who did this?” His voice was low, yet carried the oppressive weight of an impending storm. Clara’s face paled, and she stammered, “I accidentally hurt Juliet just now. She…” Sterling finally shifted his gaze from my wound. He turned to her, his eyes devoid of any warmth. “Accidentally?” He repeated, a mocking curve to his lips. Having said that, he ignored everyone else. He took my hand and, amidst the startled gazes of the Cumming family, walked straight out of the estate. After the family dinner, Sterling and I spoke even less. For appearances, and perhaps to better “monitor” me, Sterling arranged for me to work at his company as his special assistant. This naturally caused an uproar. And Sterling’s chief secretary, Bethany George, was Clara Leigh’s most loyal informant. She hadn’t given me a pleasant look since my first day. She probably believed Sterling’s marriage to me was merely a whim. He would soon tire of me, this “pain-immune block of wood,” and eventually welcome Clara back. Her mission was to accelerate this process. 4. That afternoon, I was delivering an urgent document to Sterling. As I pushed open the door to the CEO’s office, Bethany was just about to enter, carrying a steaming cup of tea. Seeing me, a flicker of calculation crossed her eyes. She stepped aside to let me go first. Just as I brushed past her, her hand “accidentally” trembled. The entire cup of scalding tea splashed directly onto the back of my hand, the hot liquid soaking into my skin. I paused. I looked at my hand, which was rapidly turning red, even beginning to blister. No expression flickered across my face. Here we go again. Bethany immediately shrieked, her voice, however, filled with schadenfreude and excitement: “Oh dear! Juliet Campbell! Are you alright?” “I’m so sorry, so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” She waited for me to cry, to scream. Or at least, to show a hint of pain. So she could perform a scene of “panicked good Samaritan” in front of Sterling. However, I merely looked up. I calmly met her gaze and said, “It’s fine. I don’t feel any pain.” Bethany’s expression froze. She probably thought, this person can’t even bother to pretend. How utterly boring. Upon seeing Sterling, her thoughts changed. She was just about to exaggerate her complaint to him. But she hadn’t seen Sterling, sitting behind his desk. From the moment the tea splashed on my hand, his face had darkened. “Get out!” Sterling’s voice carried a terrifying malevolence. Bethany’s face lit up. She thought Sterling was angry at me. She was about to reprimand me with feigned righteous indignation. Then she realized Sterling’s icy eyes were fixed on her. “I said…” Sterling articulated each word slowly. Each word struck Bethany’s heart like a heavy hammer. “Bethany George, you, take your things and get out of my company.”

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To give my wife a sense of security, once the company was on track, I stepped back and became a stay-at-home husband. For ten years since the company’s founding, she had never once let me attend the annual gala. When the tenth-anniversary gala was scheduled at a five-star hotel, I suggested I should go. She, busy lacing her shoes, didn’t even look up. “You’re my husband. If you come, the employees won’t feel relaxed.” Before leaving, she hurriedly planted a kiss on my cheek. “Be good. After this busy period, we’ll take Sunny to Hawaii.” The door clicked shut. I looked at the scattered Lego bricks and picture books on the floor, my chest aching. My three-year-old son suddenly ran up, holding a black phone. “Daddy! Mommy forgot her phone!” I froze for a moment. This wasn’t the phone she usually carried. “Honey, your gala suit is chosen, twenty-eight thousand. Waiting for your card, okay~.” 1. The sender’s name was saved as: “Sweetheart, Henry.” My breath hitched. Blood rushed to my ears, buzzing. My fingers instinctively slid across the screen. I don’t know if Eleanor was too confident, or simply trusted me too much. The phone had no password. I tapped on “Sweetheart, Henry”‘s chat window. The earliest message was from three years ago, August: “Ms. Castro, the proposal has been revised. I’ve sent it to your email.” That was when I was with her during the hardest times of her startup. She always said she had many engagements, came home late. Eleanor claimed it was a critical period for the company, so she had to sleep at the office. Last Valentine’s Day, Eleanor transferred $520 to me: “Hard work, hubby.” At the exact same moment— “Other people’s Valentines get flowers, I just want a transfer from Ms. Castro [playful emoji]” “Transfer: $10,000.00” “Love you! [heart emoji]” “Same place tonight?” That day, she came home at three in the morning, smelling of alcohol. She said, “For this family, no matter how tired I am, I have to keep going.” For my birthday, she gave me a watch worth two thousand dollars, saying: “Hard work, hubby. I’ll buy you a better one every year from now on.” At the exact same moment, she transferred $8888.88 to “Sweetheart, Henry.” He said, “Thanks, wifey! Much more generous than that old man of yours [smirking emoji]” She replied, “How can he compare to you?” “Old man.” Those two words stung my eyes. Sunny hummed a tune, clutching his toy car, sunlight illuminating the soft golden fuzz on his hair. My son, three years old. And my wife’s lover had been by her side for three years. I continued to scroll up. The last message from yesterday— “Wifey, can we finally come clean that day? [shy emoji]” My world completely crumbled at that moment. Come clean? What was she going to come clean about? Divorce? The lock turned. Eleanor pushed the door open, her gaze sweeping the living room. “I left my black phone at home. Did you see it?” “Sunny found it.” I walked over, pulling out the phone. “How could you forget something so important?” She snatched it, quickly pressed the screen dark, and tucked it into her suit’s inner pocket. The entire process took less than three seconds. “I’m swamped.” She cleared her throat. “Gala preparations, so much to do.” “Well, you’d better go.” She paused, then ruffled my cheek. “I have a dinner engagement tonight. Don’t wait for me.” The door closed. I leaned against the wall, slowly sliding to the floor. The spires of the Lego castle blurred and distorted in my vision. I knew that from today, some paths I would have to walk alone. And the first step was learning not to tremble. 2. A week later, I sat beside her with the household ledger. “Sunny’s extracurricular fees have gone up.” I opened the ledger. “The joint account balance isn’t much. Is the company’s cash flow alright?” “The company’s fine.” She glanced cursorily. “The gala budget was approved long ago. If money’s tight, just use a credit card. I’ll deposit more next month.” “The gala… it’s at the Grand Imperial Hotel?” “Mm, the Starry Sky Ballroom.” Her eyes flickered. “How did you know?” “I saw the advertisement passing by last time.” I lowered my eyes. “I heard it’s quite expensive.” “Ten years for the company, it needs to have the appropriate grandeur.” She hugged me. “After this busy period, I’ll take you and Sunny to Hawaii.” Another promise. “Oh,” I looked up, “can I see the gala schedule? I don’t even know what our company’s gala is like.” A minute later, the electronic version of the schedule and seating plan arrived. “Just look, don’t forward it.” “Got it.” She got up to shower. I opened my phone. Main Table 01: CEO Eleanor Castro Main Table 02: Head of Administration Henry Taylor Head of Administration. So, he was in the company, right under her nose. I took a screenshot, uploaded it to the cloud, and backed it up to an encrypted hard drive. Passing the study, the door was ajar. Her old laptop was on the desk, its indicator light on. I pushed the door open and went in. The computer had no password. The folders were a mess. I clicked on “Work Backup – 2021”. As I exited, my peripheral vision caught a strangely named folder: “L”. I double-clicked it. It required a password. I tried her birthday, my birthday, the company’s founding date—none worked. I typed in “Henry”‘s name. The folder opened. Inside were photos. Dozens, hundreds. Gatherings, business trips, celebrations, hotels. Spanning three years, the male lead had the same face. Young, handsome, with a flamboyant smile. Eleanor’s hand rested on his shoulder, embracing his waist. My fingernails dug into my palm, leaving crescent marks. No pain. I inserted a USB drive and copied the files. The progress bar moved slowly: 1%…5%…10%… The bathroom door opened. Footsteps approached the study. I pulled out the USB drive, closed the laptop, and turned, smiling. “Are you done showering? Your pajamas are on the bed.” She stood at the doorway, hair dripping wet, glancing at the computer. “Why are you in the study?” “Looking for Sunny’s vaccination record. The kindergarten needs it tomorrow.” I shook the small blue booklet. “Your old computer is still on. It’s wasting electricity.” “Forgot to turn it off.” She walked over and pressed the power button. “Don’t touch my computer again. It has commercial secrets.” “Got it, Mrs. Castro.” I smiled, patting her shoulder, and walked out of the study. The USB drive was tucked into the bottom-most secret compartment of the computer desk. Some other items were already stored there: transfer screenshots, recorded chat logs, unfamiliar phone numbers. Not enough yet. A few days later, I met with Laura Vance, a lawyer. A university roommate, now a renowned family law attorney. After I briefly outlined the situation, she was silent for a long time. “Buddy, are you sure you want to file a lawsuit?” “Yes.” I looked at the traffic outside the window. “I want her to pay.” “Alright then.” Laura took out her notebook. “To strike a snake, you must strike its vital point.” “What’s her vital point?” “The company.” Laura’s pen paused. “She’s the founder, but the company’s shares are marital property.” “If she’s found to be at significant fault, you’ll have a decisive advantage in asset division, and it could even affect control of the company.” She looked at me. “But this path is long and dirty. You need to be prepared.” “I am prepared.” “From the day I discovered ‘Sweetheart, Henry’, Leo Lane died.” Laura patted my shoulder. “I’ll help you.” Leaving the tea room, I went to a digital store on the west side of the city. The owner, Caleb Miller, was a university junior who once owed me a favor. “Bro, here’s what you asked for.” He handed me a black velvet box. Inside, a rose gold tie clip, studded with tiny diamonds. “4K high-definition, eight-hour battery life, wireless transmission to your phone.” Caleb lowered his voice. “And this—” A fountain pen. “Side-press recording, extremely discreet. On the day of the gala, I’ll be nearby to help with remote signal reception.” “Thanks.” I put the items away. “I’ll transfer the money.” “Bro,” Caleb’s eyes were complex, “be careful.” I smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m not the one who needs to be careful.” That night, Eleanor came home at two in the morning, reeking of alcohol. I helped her to bed, wiped her face, and took off her shoes. She groggily grabbed my hand. “Hubby… you’re still the best…” “Sleep.” I gently pulled my hand away, pulled the covers over her. As I turned, I heard her murmur, “Henry… don’t be silly…” I turned off the light, closed the door. In the darkness, I opened my phone. Henry Taylor’s social media updated. The photo showed him wearing a Rolex watch, holding a wine glass, with the sparkling dome of the Grand Imperial Hotel’s Starry Sky Ballroom as the backdrop. The caption: “Some moments deserve to be waited for. Three days left.” I “liked” it, using Eleanor’s old phone. A minute later, Henry Taylor sent a private message: “Ms. Castro? Why did you like it? Didn’t you say not to make it public yet?” I replied, mimicking her tone: “Couldn’t help myself. Miss you.” He sent a shy emoji: “I miss you too. The suit fits perfectly, super handsome. That day… will you announce it?” “Of course. I’ll give you the best.” 3. Three days before the gala, I went to the Grand Imperial Hotel under the pretense of checking out a wedding venue for a friend. The hall was being decorated. In the center of the stage, two gilded high-backed chairs, their backs intricately carved with intertwining lotus flowers. A double main seat. “This decor is truly magnificent,” my friend remarked. “Which company is spending so much?” “Indeed,” I said softly. A man walked in from the side door. Black leather shoes, dark grey suit, neat short hair. He held a tablet, confirming details with the staff. It was Henry Taylor. He was even younger than in the photos, tall and well-built, with a confident aura. And I, having spent years tending to my family, had unknowingly gained weight, developing a beer belly. So this was what she meant by, “How can he compare to you?” “Brighten the lights by another 30%. Mrs. Castro said she wants every shot clear that day.” Henry Taylor’s voice was clear and sharp. The staff nodded. “Don’t worry, Mr. Taylor.” My friend whispered, “Who’s that? He’s got a strong presence.” I didn’t answer. Henry Taylor turned, his gaze sweeping over us. He paused for half a second, then a professional smile played on his lips. “And you two are?” “We’re looking at wedding venues,” my friend said. “Is this… your annual gala?” “Yes, the company’s tenth-anniversary celebration.” Henry Taylor walked over, his gaze lingering on my face for a moment. “And you are?” “Mr. Lane.” “Mr. Lane.” He nodded. “This venue is suitable for weddings, but we’ve booked the entire hall.” “If you need, I can recommend other halls.” “No need, thank you.” I smiled. “This venue is beautiful. Your wife put a lot of thought into it.” Henry Taylor’s smile stiffened slightly. It was subtle, but I caught it. “Mrs. Castro put thought into it,” he corrected, his tone gentle. “I’m just helping with the execution.” “Mrs. Castro? Is she single? Booking such a large venue, and with a double main seat, I thought it was prepared for her husband.” The air was silent for a few seconds. Henry Taylor looked at me, his eyes filled with scrutiny, vigilance, and perhaps a hint of subtle triumph. “I’m not too clear on Mrs. Castro’s matters.” He shifted his gaze, telling the staff, “I’m going to confirm the menu. You all continue.” He turned and walked away, his leather shoes clicking crisply. My friend nudged me. “Leo, why did you ask that? It was strange.” “Just a casual question.” I withdrew my gaze. “Let’s go, let’s check out other halls.” We walked towards the elevator. Before the doors closed, I looked back. Henry Taylor stood in the center of the stage, looking down at his tablet. The starry dome light fell upon him, enveloping him in a hazy glow. He looked up, towards the elevator. Our gazes met one last time through the closing doors. He smiled. It was the smile of a victor, full of pity. The elevator descended. “Do you know him?” my friend asked. “No,” I said, watching the numbers tick down. “But I will soon.” That night, Eleanor came home unusually early, looking agitated. “What’s wrong?” I asked, serving her soup. “Nothing.” She rubbed her temples. “The company has a small issue, it’ll be resolved soon.” “That’s good.” I pushed the soup bowl towards her. “By the way, I went to the Grand Imperial Hotel today.” Her movements paused. “What did you go there for?” “Accompanying a friend to look at wedding venues.” My tone was natural. “I saw the Starry Sky Ballroom being decorated. Is it for your annual gala?” “…Mm.” “The double main seat design is very thoughtful.” I looked at her. “Was that your idea?” Eleanor put down her spoon. “It’s the event planning company’s proposal. Don’t overthink it.” “I’m not overthinking.” I smiled. “I just thought, if we were to renew our vows, we could also consider a design like that.” Her expression softened slightly. She took my hand; her palm was warm, but her fingertips were cold. “By the way, yesterday I was tidying the study and saw some photos on your old computer.” I spoke casually. “Was it a team-building event? There was a boy who looked familiar. Was he the one who came to deliver documents to the house last time?” Eleanor’s grip tightened. “Which boy?” “The one with slightly curly hair, quite tall, seemed very capable.” I blinked. “His name was, I think, Taylor?” Silence. A prolonged silence. She let go of my hand, her tone returning to gentle. “That’s Henry from admin. He’s quite capable. Why are you suddenly asking about him?” “I just thought he was quite handsome.” I got up to clear the dishes, my back to her. “With such a capable employee by your side, I feel at ease.” She didn’t say anything more. I carried the dishes into the kitchen and turned on the faucet. The rushing water covered my pounding heart. That night, Eleanor slept soundly. I got up, took the tie clip camera from its hidden compartment, and clipped it to the inside of the black coat I would wear tomorrow.

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My husband’s mistress, Scarlett, was throwing another fit and threatening to leave him. He drowned his sorrows, drinking until he got a perforated stomach and ended up in the hospital. Half-dead, he mumbled, “Only she dares to treat me like this.” Then he grabbed my hand and asked, “Eleanor, you’re a woman too. Tell me, how can I win her back this time?” Indeed, of all his countless affairs, Scarlett was the only one who truly held his heart. My phone vibrated. A message from Scarlett. “Mrs. Hayes! Please control your husband!” “As a woman, do you have no dignity?! Tell him to stop bothering me!” I scoffed, a cynical smile playing on my lips, and, as usual, offered no reply. On the fifth day of Alistair Hayes’s hospitalization, my phone rang off the hook. He was furious. “I’m in the hospital, and you haven’t visited me yet!” “Do you even consider me your husband anymore?!” I calmly replied, “I’m afraid if I go, you might fall in love with me again!” … A scoff came from the other end, as if surprised by my sudden wit. I hung up. My phone chimed with a notification: the three-year mourning period was over. According to the original agreement between the Sterling and Hayes families, I was now free to divorce. Just as I finished instructing my lawyer to begin the divorce process, I saw Scarlett flaunting her love on social media. She’d posted a picture of Alistair in his hospital gown, hooked up to an IV, half-crouching to massage her calf. She sat on the hospital bed, beaming happily. The caption read: “Truly experiencing the phrase ‘even the wealthy can be hopelessly devoted.’ He, a man of such high standing, is just a simp I can’t shake off, no matter how hard I try.” I felt nothing, not even a second glance. My lawyer was surprised by my composure. “It’s truly rare and remarkable to have such a calm client as you, Mrs. Hayes.” I offered a faint smile. She didn’t know that I had once screamed, fought, fallen into depression, and even attempted suicide over Alistair’s infidelity. It was only after my heart died, and then resurrected, that I became the woman I was today. Alistair returned home a month later, in the early hours of the morning. Seeing me asleep, he moved lightly, like a tiptoeing thief. But he didn’t know that I was a light sleeper; the slightest sound would wake me. Having another person beside me felt unsettling. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since Alistair had last slept in my bed. The next morning, I woke to find a necklace, valued at thirty million dollars, on my bedside table. I was used to it. Sure enough, I received another triumphant, provocative message from Scarlett: “Mrs. Hayes! Because of me, you’ve received another thirty-million-dollar necklace. Shouldn’t you thank me?” Every time Alistair tried to appease Scarlett, he would buy all sorts of luxurious items. But Scarlett never accepted a single one. In Alistair’s mind, Scarlett was the purest woman, disdainful of money. She had been with Alistair for three years and hadn’t spent a single penny of his. They split all expenses, and Alistair, who had been born into luxury, willingly lived a commoner’s life with her. Thus, in Alistair’s heart, Scarlett’s love for him was the purest, untainted by any ulterior motive. Only I knew Scarlett was playing a long game, baiting a big fish. Usually, I treated her like air, never replying to any of her messages. But today, I typed back: “Thank you.” A rational woman doesn’t let money pass her by. The reply from her side was instantaneous, as if the sun had risen in the west, and came back in a flash. “Oh, you’re breathing today, are you? You know how to reply now.” Her mouth was as if dipped in poison. Alistair woke up and glanced at my chat history with Scarlett. A smile played on his lips, his voice filled with an undisguised affection for Scarlett. “Scarlett’s little mouth is really… quite amusing!” As he spoke, Alistair naturally reached out and stroked my head. “My Eleanor is more composed now, truly like a big sister.” His words felt like praising a dog. A surge of disgust welled up inside me. Before, I had caused a city-wide scandal over his infidelity. I’d flipped tables in public, and the number of times I’d smashed bottles over his head, sending him to the hospital, was fifteen. Media exposés and other behaviors had cost him countless amounts of face. But he never reined himself in. Each time, he would only tell me: “Go out and look around. Which man in this circle doesn’t have a few women?” “I’m having my fun, but I’m not abandoning you!” He had also said many times: “No matter how many women I have, you are still the head, the older sister to all of them.” It wasn’t until the day my father passed away that I truly woke up. For three years, I had been “blind” and “deaf”! It only earned me his patronizing compliment: “My Eleanor finally acts like a big sister.” For these three years, I had not interfered with him. My presence to him was as if I were air. Even after our son turned two, he still didn’t know I had given birth to a boy for him. The day I nearly died in childbirth, he was with Scarlett, selling street food from a stall. He said he was utterly smitten by Scarlett’s non-materialistic, self-reliant character! I simply offered a faint, cold smile, saying nothing. In my heart, he had long been dead. On my mother-in-law’s birthday banquet, I went through the motions, playing the dutiful daughter-in-law. But as I walked in with my gifts, I saw Alistair and Scarlett standing on either side of my mother-in-law. My mother-in-law was beaming, chatting with acquaintances. “Mrs. Hayes, your hairstyle today is truly beautiful. Paired with that dress, you look simply elegant and unrivaled.” My mother-in-law’s hairstyle was indeed more beautiful than before, elegantly swept up with a retro hair ornament. She smiled gently, patting Scarlett’s hand with approval. “My daughter-in-law styled it for me. She’s very skilled.” So, my mother-in-law had also accepted Scarlett. Scarlett smiled gracefully in response. “Mom, as long as you like it.” Alistair said, “Mom, she loves you the most. She’s told me so many times.” “You being our daughter-in-law is a blessing to our Hayes family.” A cold laugh bubbled up inside me. I refused to stay another second. As I was about to turn and leave, Scarlett’s voice came from behind me. “Eleanor.” Her tone was light, deliberately making others mistakenly believe we had a good relationship. I paused, turned calmly, and offered a slight smile. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes; she must have expected me to either storm out in a rage, make a scene, or disregard my mother-in-law entirely. Never this calm, this composed. “Sister, you look truly beautiful today.” She feigned composure and warmth. “Thank you.” I smiled faintly, accepting the compliment. I had long since dismissed her from my thoughts. Her deliberate acts of hostility were utterly superfluous to me. My mother-in-law naturally said to me, “You two sisters should accompany me in receiving the guests.” A memory suddenly flooded my mind of what my mother-in-law had told me before: “You are my true daughter from now on. I will love you like my own.” “If Alistair dares to cheat, I’ll be the first to break his legs for you.” Those words were as clear as yesterday. Yet, she was the one causing me immense humiliation now. She gently patted my hand, whispering, “Eleanor, Scarlett is a good girl. She’s different from those other women.” I smiled faintly, saying against my true feelings, “You’re right, Mom.” Anyway, I was leaving. Nothing here mattered to me anymore. My mother-in-law smiled with relief. “It’s so good that you’ve come to your senses.” She looked up at Alistair and said, “I told you, Eleanor is a reasonable person.” Alistair looked at me with a relieved gaze, proudly stating, “I trained her myself.” As if I were a cat or a dog. In the past, I would have smashed every table at this birthday banquet. Now, I wouldn’t waste a single emotion or ounce of energy on people who weren’t worth it. ** Scarlett and I stood on either side, accompanying my mother-in-law. Everyone looked at me strangely. Some were even whispering. “Why has Eleanor suddenly changed? This isn’t like her at all.” “In the past, she would have flipped tables by now. Why is she so quiet today?” To everyone’s astonishment, my mother-in-law, beaming, announced, “I have some good news to share with everyone.” “My daughter-in-law, Scarlett, is three months pregnant.” “The family doctor checked, and it’s a boy.” “For our Hayes family, this is a double blessing.” Everyone present offered flattering words and pleasantries. In this circle of wealthy families, this was indeed a common occurrence. But to so openly slap my face as the legitimate wife—only the Hayes family would dare. Scarlett smiled shyly, and Alistair embraced her, his face filled with happiness. I felt like a clown, an added amusement to the birthday banquet. Finally, I spoke. “I had intended to wait until after Mom’s birthday to discuss the divorce.” “Since Scarlett is pregnant, we can’t have her child be born illegitimate, can we?” “So, discussing the divorce on this occasion is quite fitting.” I glanced at my lawyer, who was not far away. She understood immediately and handed the divorce papers to Alistair. Alistair frowned, stunned, his eyes scrutinizing me! “Are you causing trouble again?” I offered a faint, calm smile. “I am very serious. Do you truly love Scarlett by making her a mistress for life?” He was shocked by the unwavering calmness in my eyes. For a moment, his dark eyes were filled with disbelief. The woman he once believed would never leave him, even in death, was now calmly and resolutely proposing a divorce. My words choked him. He loved Scarlett so much; how could he say anything that would hurt her? The entire hall fell silent, waiting for Alistair’s reaction. Scarlett stared fixedly at him. Alistair hesitated for only two seconds, and she couldn’t contain herself, feigning a wronged and compromising tone. “Alistair, you don’t have to make it difficult.” “I know we’re not a match.” “I’ll have this baby aborted. I can be your mistress.” “But truthfully, I don’t want my child to be called a bastard, an illegitimate child.” “So I’ll have this baby aborted.” Alistair panicked, quickly trying to soothe her. “You mustn’t! This is the crystallization of our love, and my first child.” “Who says he’s illegitimate? I will give him a legitimate identity.” I deliberately said with satisfaction, “Now that’s a man! Sign it!” Under the combined pressure from Scarlett and me, Alistair picked up the pen. Without even looking, he signed the divorce papers. He leaned close to me, speaking in a voice only we two could hear. “Once Scarlett has the baby, I’ll remarry you.” “Just bear with it a little longer. I won’t abandon you.” I remained calm, a sigh of relief washing over me. Alistair, I won’t take you back. Never again. Scarlett flashed me a triumphant smile. I, too, smiled with relief. Back at my and Alistair’s residence, the lawyer had already arranged for a moving company to take my valuable personal belongings. Our two-year-old son was still asleep, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him. The lawyer accidentally injured herself when a cabinet fell, so I rushed her to the hospital. Estimating when my son would wake up, I hurried back to pick him up. Before I even reached the residence, I saw thick black smoke, like clouds, billowing from the house. My heart clenched, and I slammed the accelerator to the floor. The closer I got, the stronger the sense of dread grew. My hands trembled on the steering wheel, and I silently prayed that it wasn’t my and Alistair’s house on fire. But when I got out of the car and saw the villa engulfed in flames, my world instantly collapsed. Scarlett was nestled in Alistair’s arms, weeping delicately. “Alistair, I’m so sorry. I never thought setting off fireworks to celebrate would set the house on fire.” “What are we going to do? Waaah…” She looked like a startled rabbit, her eyes wide with terror. Alistair showed no concern for the burning house, smiling as he comforted her. “It’s okay, don’t cry. It’s just a house; it’s nothing major.” “I have plenty of houses. This little loss means nothing to me.” “Don’t cry, you silly girl.” My legs weak, I stumbled forward, screaming desperately, “My son is inside! Put out the fire!” “Put out the fire! Put out the fire!” I lunged madly towards the house. Alistair quickly grabbed me from behind. “Eleanor! Calm down!” “We don’t have a child! Where would a child come from?!” “If you’re worried about the house, I can buy you another one!” Scarlett said sarcastically, “Eleanor, what’s this new trick of yours?” “What child? You’re not hallucinating, are you?” I struggled madly out of Alistair’s grasp and slapped him hard. Trembling, I roared. “It’s our son! He’s two years old! He’s sleeping in there!” I had lost all reason, and was about to rush into the blazing house again. The entire house was engulfed in flames, crackling and popping, about to be completely incinerated. In the distance, the wail of fire truck sirens grew louder. Alistair grabbed me again, shouting angrily, “What are you doing?!” “Are you trying to manipulate me with this?!” “Eleanor, your life is your own!” “If you rush in there today, you’ll only die.” “And a son? When did you ever have a son? How come I don’t know?!” “I think you’ve lost your mind!” Scarlett chimed in, “I think so too. Eleanor, you can’t force feelings. Why are you doing this?” I lunged at Scarlett like a madwoman, grabbing her hair and dragging her towards the flames. “Scarlett, if anything happens to my son, you’ll die in this fire too!” She cried out in pain, struggling and screaming. Alistair rushed over and stood between Scarlett and me, angrily slapping me. “Eleanor, what’s wrong with you?!” He immediately ordered the bodyguards beside him, “Take her to the mental hospital for an examination!” Two burly bodyguards immediately moved to act against me. In utter despair, I was ready to abandon everything and rush into the fire to find my son. Suddenly, a familiar, shaken voice came from behind me. “Mommy, I’m here…”

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I possess a “Rumors Come True” system, where any lie uttered about me manifests upon the slanderer. In high school, a classmate, envious of my generous allowance, claimed I was being kept by someone, selling myself. That very day, she was taken to a sleazy karaoke bar and forced into being a hostess. In college, a male student remarked that my queasy stomach and picky eating must be morning sickness. Immediately, his belly swelled; for ten months, he swelled, only to vomit nothing but sour bile. From then on, no one dared to gossip about me. That is, until my engagement party with my fiancé, James. His childhood friend, Maya, eagerly stepped forward to offer a toast. “Eleanor, darling, even though the hospital records show you’ve had seven miscarriages, I’m sure you and James will have a baby soon!” “And if not, you can always bring home that child you had when you were eighteen. James and I will help you raise it.” … After her little speech, Maya blinked her innocent eyes. “Oh dear, did I say something wrong? I suppose everyone didn’t know about Eleanor’s past, did they?” She regretfully covered James’s ear. “Just pretend I said nothing. Eleanor clearly didn’t tell you these private things because she didn’t want you to know.” She seemed to be trying to cover for me, but her misleading words only fueled the guests’ misunderstandings. Meeting the mocking gazes of our friends, James’s face darkened. He frowned deeply. “Eleanor, did you really get pregnant and have someone else’s child before we were married, and had seven miscarriages?” Hearing his sharp accusation, Maya feigned remorse and looked at me. “I’m so sorry, Eleanor. I thought since you two were about to be married, there wouldn’t be any secrets between you.” “But I don’t regret it. I couldn’t stand by and let James be kept in the dark.” Meeting her resolute stare, I scoffed, narrowing my eyes as I approached her. “I advise you to clear up these rumors immediately!” “Otherwise, it might be difficult to contain later!” Maya timidly hid behind James, her voice trembling with feigned vulnerability. “How could this be a rumor?” “I just wanted to find out what kind of woman James was marrying, and I never expected to uncover such unspeakable details about your past…” At her words, everyone watched like a crowd at a show, waiting for Maya’s next revelation. James’s brow was lined with an even deeper frown. Maya bit her lower lip, looking as if she found it difficult to speak. “These are all Eleanor’s private matters. Can I really say…?” James comforted her gently. “Maya, just say what you know. If she dared to do it, there’s no need to spare her feelings.” Listening to his defense, Maya’s eyes grew steadily firmer. “James is right. Everyone has the right to know the truth!” She blurted out, “The year she turned eighteen, in her freshman year of college, Eleanor was sleeping with several men. And that was the year she gave birth to a child.” The surrounding guests gasped in collective shock. Maya continued to spill the beans. “But she hooked up with so many men, she doesn’t even know who the child’s father is!” “That child has been raised in the countryside ever since. If you do the math, they must be eight years old by now.” The banquet hall immediately erupted in whispers. Scrutinizing glances continuously swept over me. “I can’t believe it! She looks so innocent, but she’s been playing around so much behind our backs!” “From the sound of her insatiable urges, she’s probably cheated on James countless times. Tsk!” I ignored the filthy whispers, calmly meeting Maya’s gaze, a smile playing on my lips. “Sometimes, the rumors you spread come back to bite you in unexpected ways.” “I’m asking you one last time, are you sure everything you’re saying happened to me?” A flicker of panic crossed her eyes, quickly masked, as she feigned composure. “Of course it’s about you! Whose else could it be?!” She adopted a righteous air. “I just want James to know your true character, so he doesn’t regret marrying you for the rest of his life!” But no sooner had she spoken than a small child rushed up to Maya’s leg, crying, “Mommy!” The entire banquet hall was stunned. Maya frantically tried to push her away. “Who’s your mommy? Don’t call me that!” The girl, however, clung to her, sobbing, “Mommy, I haven’t seen you in so long. Why are you trying to send me away again?” Maya’s composure shattered under the guests’ teasing gazes. She gasped in alarm, trying to cover the child’s mouth. I watched her panic, a faint smile on my lips. I told her, didn’t I, that spreading rumors would come back to haunt her? James looked at Maya, a complicated expression on his face. He asked bitterly, “Is she really your child?” Maya instinctively waved her hand in denial. I interjected, “Why don’t we just ask?” I walked toward the girl, but Maya suddenly blocked her. “Why should you ask?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “If you’re innocent, what’s there to be afraid of?” Maya looked at James, tears welling in her eyes. “James, you believe me!” Seeing her tears, James immediately stepped in front of her, frowning with displeasure. “Eleanor, Maya and I grew up together. I know her character better than anyone!” “How could she possibly have a child this old? Don’t spread false rumors!” He hadn’t trusted me, but now that Maya was being questioned, he fiercely protected her. My chest tightened for a moment, then I exhaled lightly. “Someone calling Maya ‘Mommy’ at a banquet will surely tarnish her reputation! If you truly care about her, you should inquire further!” James looked at the suspicious glances around them, clenching his fists. Finally, he pulled Maya aside. “Eleanor is right. For your reputation, we really should get to the bottom of this!” Maya glared at me with resentment. I knelt down and asked the girl, “Little one, how old are you?” “Eight.” “What’s your name?” “Lily Taylor.” I concluded, “She has normal conversational abilities.” Then I pointed at Maya. “Is she your mother?” Maya’s eyes shot daggers, and she glared at Lily. The girl flinched in fear, but still nodded gently. “She is my mommy.” Hearing her confession, the color drained from Maya’s face. “And your father?” The girl looked a bit sad, lowering her head. “I’ve never met my daddy.” Maya saw the shock on James’s face and glared at me with hatred. Suddenly, she shrieked, “It must be you! Eleanor!” “Is she an actress you hired to ruin my reputation?” “Otherwise, how could this child’s story perfectly align with what I said?” Then, Maya tugged at James’s sleeve, tears welling in her eyes. “James, believe me! I really didn’t do any of those things.” “I’m to blame for saying those things that upset Eleanor. She must have deliberately hired an actress to frame me.” James’s friends also came over to speak on Maya’s behalf. “James, you know what kind of person Maya is. Besides, her name is Taylor. What connection could she possibly have with Maya?” “But the child that Eleanor was supposedly found to have is also eight years old. Kids can be easily manipulated; how many truths can come out of their mouths?” I sneered, looking at the speaker. “So, Maya spreading false rumors was also part of my scheme?” James, listening to the argument, roared to interrupt. “Enough, Eleanor!” “Maya isn’t married yet; don’t slander her!” “This girl was probably sent by someone to deliberately frame her. I’ll have someone take her back to her parents soon.” Maya, hearing James say he believed her, began to sob again. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she sniffled. “Eleanor, I never imagined you’d go to such lengths, even hiring an actress to spread rumors about me, just to divert attention.” “Originally, there was some evidence I didn’t want to release, but since you’ve resorted to such underhanded tactics, don’t blame me for exposing it…” She opened her phone’s photo album, and an indecent, lewd sound filled the air. Projected onto the banquet hall’s large screen, everyone clearly saw a person wearing provocative lingerie, twisting their body, with my face prominently displayed. Maya pointed at the video and declared, “During that time, not only were you promiscuous, but you also loved filming these little videos. These are all the evidence your ex-boyfriends sent me!” “What do you have to say for yourself now?” “You want to have a good time before marrying James, but how do you think James’s family will feel about this?” Seeing the intertwined bodies on the large screen, whispers erupted among the guests. “I heard the Sterling and Taylor families arranged this marriage years ago. Eleanor knew about the engagement and still dared to mess around!” “She’s practically slapping the Sterling family in the face!” Maya seemed to fear it wasn’t enough; she played several more videos. Various types of sexy lingerie, and a different male lead in each video. James’s face grew grim. His voice was low and heavy. “Eleanor! I’ve kept my distance from other women since I learned about our engagement!” “But you… how dare you betray me?!” Maya fanned the flames beside him. “Eleanor could have a child out of wedlock at eighteen; it’s hard to say if she filmed these for thrills.” I looked at the furious man before me and suddenly felt utterly fed up. I was his fiancée of three years. Yet, he didn’t bother to question the truth, refusing to hear a single explanation. He had already decided I was a depraved woman. I simply explained, “I didn’t do any of these things. AI face-swapping technology is so advanced these days; it’s hard to say if someone deliberately replaced the person in the videos with my face.” Then, I stared unblinking at Maya. “This behavior has already violated my right to reputation. I have every reason to sue you!” Hearing my almost threatening words, Maya remained unfazed. “I already told you, I bought these from your ex-boyfriends.” She even mocked me. “You found a good man like James and still don’t appreciate him!” “You probably don’t know how many women dream of marrying him!” Her words were tinged with admiration for the man beside her. James clearly enjoyed her words, and his disgust for me intensified. “Eleanor, I cannot marry a woman as impure as you!” “I will inform my parents that I’m breaking off the engagement.” I gave a dismissive smirk. Whatever. It was the Sterling family who had begged for this alliance three years ago anyway. If I broke off this engagement, another Chen or Wang family would naturally come along. Before James left with Maya, I patiently offered one last warning. “Maya, I advise you to apologize for your inappropriate remarks.” “After all, spreading false rumors really does come back to haunt you!” She had just heard what she wanted to hear. She chuckled, her face filled with only defiance. “Eleanor, I think I should be saying that to you.” “I advise you to live a pure life from now on. Otherwise, the next rich man you try to hook, once he checks your background, will know you’re not clean~” Watching her walk away, I nonchalantly raised an eyebrow. Since good advice fell on deaf ears, then let her wait. Retribution might be delayed, but it would never be absent.

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