Category: English

My university roommates knew I was a yoga teacher, so they asked me to lead them in some classes. Ten dollars a session, four times a week. Then one day, no one showed up. No one would even answer my texts. That’s when I found out my best friend, Jessica, had stolen my little business. She was only charging eight dollars a class. But Jessica had only taken a handful of classes with me. She didn’t understand the first thing about yoga principles. Sure enough, a few sessions later, her aggressive hands-on adjustment broke a classmate’s leg. 1 Not a single person came to my class today. The dance studio, usually packed, was completely empty. A wave of disappointment washed over me. Was there some school event I didn’t know about? I packed up my mat and props and headed back to the dorm. When I got there, I found them all, already looking like they’d just finished a yoga session. I stood frozen at the door. “You didn’t come to my class. Where did you practice?” An outside yoga studio charges over a hundred dollars for a single class. Wasn’t my ten-dollar fee a much better deal? But no one even looked at me. They exchanged awkward glances and scattered. I suddenly felt like a complete fool. I grabbed my roommate, Lily, by the arm. “Lily, what’s going on? Did I do something wrong?” Lily turned her head, glaring at me angrily as she wrenched her hand free. “Get lost! And to think I called you a friend! You’re such a scammer!” I was utterly confused. “I didn’t do anything.” Lily took a step closer, her neck craned. “Didn’t do anything? You tell me! How much does an outside yoga teacher charge for one class?” This was a question I was more than qualified to answer. My family owns a chain of yoga studios. My mom and my aunt are both certified Iyengar instructors. I started training with them professionally at a young age. By the time I was in high school, I was already a qualified advanced yoga instructor. I rushed to explain. “For a corporate class of fifteen people, an instructor at a studio charges around $300 a session!” “Bullshit!” Lily shoved me, furious. “We looked it up! A yoga teacher’s fee is $100, max!” How was that possible? Where did she get that information? My heart pounded with anxiety. “My family’s…” “Your family’s what? Stop bragging! We checked! That ‘Serenity Yoga’ studio you talked about? It’s not yours! The legal owner’s last name is Chen!” Lily stormed off without giving me another chance to explain. But the registered legal representative of Serenity Yoga… was my grandmother. 2 Watching Lily’s angry retreat, a wave of hurt washed over me. She wasn’t a malicious person. Lily was straightforward, cheerful, and even a little naive. This wasn’t the first time she’d been used as someone’s pawn. This whole thing definitely didn’t start with her. Then who? My eyes fell on my best friend Jessica’s desk. There were several newly purchased, obscure-looking yoga books on it. A suspicion began to form in my mind. Just then, Jessica walked in carrying a washbasin. The moment she saw me, a flicker of something unreadable—shame and greed—crossed her eyes. It was gone in an instant, replaced by her usual bright smile. “Hey, sweetie, when did you get back?” I stared at her, silent. She put down the basin and took my hand. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?” Tears suddenly started streaming down my face. She was my best friend. Seeing her like this, my sense of betrayal reached its peak. “Jess, did you…” Before I could finish, seven or eight other students stormed into our room. The one in the lead, Maya, yelled furiously, “So, Joyce’s back! You money-grubbing piece of trash! Ripping off your own classmates!” “Yeah! Were you raised by wolves? No manners at all?” I stumbled backward, terrified. Jessica ducked behind the crowd of students. Maya got right in my face, her expression menacing. “Joyce! You said you’d contact the factory for us, that you got us the cheapest yoga mats. Have you no shame?” I was trembling with anger. “The factory price was $68! And they threw in yoga blocks and a stretching strap for free.” Maya hurled two yoga blocks at my face. “Who wants your crappy, defective freebies! Take them back!” “Yeah! ‘Free gifts’? More like charity handouts.” Blood gushed from my nose. A flicker of fear crossed a few of their faces, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. I pulled out a few tissues and pressed them to my nostrils. “I have the chat logs with the factory owner,” I sobbed. “You can look at them.” “Pah! Chat logs can be faked! You’re all in on it together! Who would believe you!” Maya pointed a finger at me. “I’m telling you, stop playing the victim! Refund our money for the mats right now!” “Yeah! Refund!” “And refund the extra fees you charged us for the classes!” 3 The tears wouldn’t stop. “Fine! I’ll refund it! I don’t want friends like you anyway!” “Who wants to be friends with you, you greedy pig!” “Haha, yeah, that’s right! From now on, we’ll call her Greedy Joyce!” My nose was still bleeding, and I felt dizzy. “Give… give me back the… the yoga blocks and straps I gave you.” Maya laughed. “You scammed us. We’re keeping those as compensation.” “You’re going too far! You know how much yoga mats cost in the stores.” I cried, replacing the blood-soaked tissues. “Then how did Jessica find us mats for only $38?” At that, my heart sank. The tears stopped instantly. I looked up, past the crowd, to my dear friend, my best friend. Her eyes darted around before she pushed her way through the group. “Alright, everyone, calm down. Even if Joyce did something wrong, she did teach us for a while. We should be grateful for that.” “Grateful? For what? For overcharging us?” “Yeah, we’re all poor students. She’s so calculating, her heart must be black!” Jessica stood in front of me, as if defending me. “She’s been punished, hasn’t she? Look, she’s bleeding.” “Serves her right!” “Fine. For Jessica’s sake, we won’t kill you today.” Maya tilted her head at me. “But I’m telling you, you’d better refund our money before we go to bed tonight!” The group of them swarmed out of the room. Someone turned back to ask, “Jess, what time is class tomorrow?” Jessica shot a nervous glance at me, then whispered, “I’ll post a notice in the group chat. Just wait for it.” Then she too scurried out of the room. Lily, who had been silent this whole time, had her fists clenched tightly. Looking like she’d made a decision, she walked over to me. She handed me a warm towel. “Joyce… no matter what you did, I should have helped you just now. I didn’t know they would get physical.” I pushed the towel away. Lily looked crestfallen. I forced a smile. “This is all evidence. I can’t wipe it away.” “I’m sorry, Joyce. I was watching them. If anyone had tried to touch you again, I would have fought them.” Finally, a kind word all night. I shook my head at her. “I’m fine.” Then, I gathered all the bloody tissues, didn’t change my clothes, and called my mom. “Mom, call the police. I’ve been assaulted.” 4 Lily offered to walk with me, but I refused. She said, her voice filled with unease, “Joyce, maybe I misunderstood you. Just now, I didn’t see a single ounce of guilt in your eyes. Only fear and disappointment.” “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I feel guilty?” She nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, that’s right. But Jessica, on the other hand… her eyes were darting all over the place, like she was hiding something.” I gave a tired smile. Lily was finally thinking for herself. She grabbed my wrist. “Joyce! She was lying, I’m so sorry. But when I heard what she said about you, I was just so angry.” I patted the back of her hand. “Just take care of yourself.” A small smile finally appeared on her face. “What do you mean?” “When you go to her yoga class, don’t push yourself too hard.” “Okay, okay, don’t worry!” Just then, my mom called. “Joyce, come downstairs. We’re going straight to the police station.” I grabbed all my evidence and ran downstairs. As I passed the room next door, Maya spotted me. “Are you crazy, running out in the middle of the night?” she yelled. Then I heard Jessica’s shout from behind her. “Don’t let her get away! She’s trying to skip out on the refund! Everyone, after her!” I had just reached the second floor when I heard the thunder of footsteps behind me, like a mob chasing a thief. “Damn it, Joyce! Give us our money back!” “Refund! Don’t let her get away!” I reached the ground floor and sprinted for the east gate where my mom’s car was parked. I jumped in and slammed the door shut, watching as the girls stood there, furious, yelling curses at me. Jessica, out of breath, glared at me with pure hatred. A chill ran down my spine. Jessica was a scholarship student. She had once complained to me, “This world is so unfair. Some people have to walk miles to get to school, while others are born riding in cars.” At the time, I wanted to comfort her. But her next words stuck in my throat like a fishbone. “All rich people should just die!” 5 Jessica hid her true self so well. From the very beginning, she was never genuinely interested in just exercising. She had said that classes were tiring, that everyone’s necks were about to break. She heard yoga was relaxing, and since I knew how to teach it, why not lead a few sessions for everyone? A group of college girls, laughing and practicing together—it sounded like fun. So I agreed. I originally thought I would just be teaching a few people from our dorm. I never expected Jessica to book a dance studio and gather a group of over fifteen people. She even told everyone that they should give me a little something for my time, so I wouldn’t be working for free. She had looked at me with those big, innocent eyes. “Sweetie, how much do you think we should charge per person, per class?” I looked at the group; it was the same size as a small corporate class. I figured half price would be fair. So, a total of $150, which came out to $10 per person. My corporate classes were an hour long. For my classmates, I always taught for at least an hour and a half. I would carefully observe each person’s physical condition and tailor the practice to their needs. I would never rush them or push them into difficult poses just for show, wearing out their bodies in the process. I wanted my classmates to heal their bodies gradually. Pelvic alignment, spinal decompression, restoring the natural curve of the cervical spine. Jessica was one of those people who appeared very flexible. But any real practitioner knows that a “stiff” body is a gift. It means your joints are stable and your ligaments have enough elasticity to protect you from injury. But on the surface, it can look clumsy. Jessica was the opposite. In her very first class, she could already get into some advanced-looking poses. But on closer observation, I noticed she had a severe anterior pelvic tilt and hyperextended knees. If she wasn’t careful, she could easily fracture a bone. This is not uncommon in yoga practice. Looking back, I realized she never took my warnings seriously. In fact, she probably thought I was jealous of her. The other students were always praising her, calling her a natural, saying how amazing she was. I even vaguely remember someone saying, “Jess, you were born to be a yoga teacher.” “Yeah, look at Joyce, she’s been practicing for years and her splits aren’t as good as yours. You got it on your first try!”

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The Duchess, my sister-in-law, had just shoved her own son and daughter from the gallery window. I, who had witnessed the entire thing, did not scream. I did not call for help. I simply sat, calmly sipping my tea, and watched the tragedy unfold. I watched, my expression serene, as one child was impaled on the wrought-iron fence below, and the other shattered upon the cobblestones. I did this because, in my previous life, I had screamed for a physician the very instant it happened. But I was too late. The children died, and the Duchess, Theresa, swore to everyone that I was the murderer. My mother, returning from a pilgrimage, rushed back to the manor with a hand-picked witness and, without a moment’s hesitation, condemned me. Helpless, I turned to my brilliant scholar husband, begging for his support. He tore his hand from my grasp. “You venomous snake!” he spat. “You lured me away just so you could commit murder!” Then my brother, the formidable Lord Regent, his face a mask of incandescent rage, ran me through with his sword. He ordered my body to be dragged to the public square and drawn and quartered. As I died, I couldn’t understand. Why? Why did my husband and my own mother bear false witness against me? Until I opened my eyes again and found myself back on the very day the children died. 1. “Fanny, darling, you take the gifts back to the manor. The children must be waiting. I’m just going to pop into the tavern next door for a bottle of wine.” The sound of my husband Alexander’s voice sent a jolt through me. I was reborn. It was real. In my last life, Alexander and I had been returning from the Winter Ball at the palace. Halfway home, he had made the same excuse to stop at the tavern. The moment I had stepped through the doors of the manor, I’d seen the children screaming as they fell. I had sprinted forward, desperate to save them, while simultaneously shouting for a servant to fetch a physician. The Duchess, Theresa, was collapsed on the floor, paralyzed by fear. Seeing me was like seeing a lifeline. “Fanny, save me!” she’d sobbed. “The children weren’t focusing on their studies, I only meant to punish them by making them stand at the window for a while… I never thought… please, you have to help me!” By the time I reached them, the children were already gone. My brother, Alistair, the Lord Regent, had lived a life of impeccable discipline. He had taken Theresa as his second wife but had no other mistresses. These two children were his only heirs. He would want blood for this. The commotion drew the neighbors. They pointed at me, accusing me of murdering the young Lord and his sister. I tried to explain that I had just returned, that Theresa was the one responsible. But then Alexander rushed in, his finger pointed at my nose, his voice thick with hatred. “Fanny, you are a monster! You tricked me into leaving so you could kill children!” Amid the chaos, my mother, who was supposed to be on a religious retreat, burst in with her so-called witness, her eyes demanding my life. “You poisoner! Give me back my grandchildren!” Before I could form a word, my brother Alistair, home at some unknown point, ran me through with his sword. He roared for his men to drag me to the executioner’s square to be drawn and quartered, and they tore my head from my body as I watched in horror. To my dying breath, I never understood why they did it. The phantom terror of being torn apart still lingered. I swore on my trembling hands. This time, I would uncover the truth. And I would make every single one of them pay in blood. I calculated the time. The children’s “accident” was still half an hour away. As Alexander turned down the alley towards the tavern, I saw him exchange a subtle, knowing glance with Theresa’s handmaiden, Rosalind. A chill of pure ice cascaded down my spine. My husband, who had sworn he loved me more than life itself, was in league with my sister-in-law. I couldn’t fathom why. But I would not be a lamb to the slaughter. “Darling,” I purred, forcing a playful pout. “I want to see the new collection at the jeweler’s. Won’t you come with me, please?” Alexander, caught off guard after his signal to Rosalind, flinched. He quickly recovered his gentle, coaxing tone. “My sweet girl, just tell me what you’d like. I’ll bring it back for you.” A wave of revulsion washed over me. I fought it down and linked my arm through his. “No, I won’t have it. Your taste is so dreadfully old-fashioned. If you’re in such a hurry, why don’t you go back first?” Did he think I was still a fool? My mother and sister-in-law were already waiting at home, ready to spring their trap. In my last life, they had been the ones to hold me down, allowing my brother to deliver the fatal blow. 2. The jeweler had many new designs on display. As I browsed, Alexander grew increasingly impatient, urging me to leave. I pretended not to notice, my hatred for him a burning coal in my gut. He had the audacity to set a trap for me. If I didn’t still have a use for him, I would have had him cut down where he stood. Finally, I saw my loyal maid, Clara, give me the signal that all was arranged. Only then did I casually select a set of jewelry. “Fanny, that’s a man’s set…” I was already walking out of the shop. “I like it,” I said dismissively. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading home now.” He was practically giddy with relief. He couldn’t wait for me to go back. In my last life, he had used every trick in the book to lure me home, straight into their web. This time, I was eager to see what pathetic games they would play. As my carriage departed, I glanced back and saw Rosalind slip furtively into the shop. The two of them put their heads together, whispering. I smiled coldly and settled back into my seat. Just like last time, the Regent’s manor was eerily quiet, the servants all dismissed. The moment I walked in, I saw the two children falling from the gallery. This time, it was a few minutes earlier. Theresa was already collapsed on the floor. The second she saw me, she crawled towards me on her knees, her face a mask of terror. “Fanny, save me! The children weren’t focusing on their studies, I only meant to punish them by making them stand at the window for a while… I never thought… please, you have to help me!” I wrenched my arm from her grasp and called towards the door. “I’m afraid that’s no use, Sister. I’ve already sent Clara to fetch the city guard and a physician.” This time, I had no intention of saving anyone. At the mention of the city guard, Theresa’s feigned panic turned to genuine horror. She began to stammer that it wasn’t on purpose. She was a brilliant actress. If I hadn’t seen that same face screaming for my death in my past life, I might have even believed her. The guards and the physician arrived quickly. As we descended the grand staircase, we saw the physician shake his head grimly. Outside, a crowd of neighbors had gathered, their curses aimed at me. After all, the world believes in wicked aunts, not wicked mothers. The guards began to question everyone separately. While Theresa was being interrogated, I waited. Suddenly, my magnificent brother, the Lord Regent, stormed back into the manor like a hurricane. He pushed through the crowd and his hand closed around my throat. He had been a warrior in his youth, and his aura was that of a killer. He had adored these two children above all else. Now, believing I had murdered them, he was ready to kill me with his bare hands. “Fanny,” he snarled, “did you loathe them this much? Enough to send them to their deaths?” The neighbors began to spit in my direction. Alexander and I had been married for five years without a child, and the court gossips whispered that I was jealous of my brother and his perfect family. I had denied it, but I knew Alistair had never truly believed me. Now, his eyes were bloodshot, like a beast that had lost all reason. His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it. “If anything has happened to my children,” he ground out, “I swear I will have your life for it.” The memory of his sword piercing my chest overwhelmed me. I was frozen with terror, unable to speak. Theresa emerged from her questioning and saw the scene. “My Lord!” she cried. “I had just gone up to the gallery when I saw Fanny push the children! When I tried to save them, she nearly killed me too!” She pointed to her forehead, which was now bruised and bleeding. My dear sister-in-law. With a single sentence, she meant to sign my death warrant. 3. Don’t let my sister-in-law’s delicate frame fool you; when she shrieked and lunged at me, she came with the force of a battering ram. I sidestepped her lunge and, in front of everyone, kicked her squarely in the backside, sending her face-first into the mud. I snorted. “Dear sister, you were the one who pushed the children. Why are you trying to frame me?” The chaotic manor fell silent, broken only by Theresa’s muffled sobs. No one had expected me, a high-ranking lady of the court, to resort to such brutish violence. Even my enraged brother instinctively loosened his grip. I seized the opportunity and scrambled away from him. Recovering, Theresa’s voice exploded. “You’re insane! They were my children! How could I possibly harm them?” “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, Sister, but they aren’t your biological children. And since you find my presence so inconvenient, what better way to solve both problems? Frame me for their murder, and you get rid of three obstacles at once.” My words struck her like lightning. Her face went ashen. She shot a panicked look at Alistair, then turned back to curse me. “You fiend! You’re trying to sow discord! Why would I use my own children’s lives to frame you?” “Sow discord? After the palace banquet today, my husband and I went directly to the jeweler’s. When would I have had the time to harm the children?” I watched her face pale even further and was about to press her when a hand clamped over my mouth. “That’s enough!” It was Alexander, who had just rushed in. He shot a pained, protective look at Theresa, then tightened his grip on my mouth. “Fanny, what nonsense are you spouting? When did I ever go to a jeweler’s with you?” My heart turned to ice. Even knowing he was a traitor, facing his open betrayal still sent a shard of pain through me. He had denied me just like this in our last life. The mystery that had haunted me to my death was now, seeing his devotion to Theresa, painfully clear. “Alexander,” I said, my voice muffled as I struggled against his hand, “you were the one who wanted to buy wine. I only begged you to come with me to the jeweler’s. How can you deny it?” I finally broke free, my eyes locking on his, filled with despair and fury. “Why are you lying for her?” Alexander’s eyes darted away for a second before he flatly denied it. “What lies are you telling? We all know you’re the killer. We have witnesses and evidence. Are you trying to blame the Duchess for your crime?” Every word was another nail in my coffin. As I opened my mouth to speak again, my mother, Lady Isolde, burst in, just as she had before. “Damn you, Fanny! You murdered my grandchildren, and I will see you pay with your life!” Her distress seemed genuine, her curses flying from her lips. “Theresa, my dearest girl, do not worry! Mother will see justice done for you today!” My mother, the woman I had respected for twenty years, the Dowager Duchess of the manor, pointed an accusing finger at me. “Call the guards! Arrest this murderer!” A profound chill settled deep in my bones. My own mother, whom I had loved and revered for two decades, was personally accusing me of murder. Before Alistair married, he had doted on me. But after Theresa arrived, everything changed. It was as if she, not I, had become the true daughter of the house. I looked at my mother in anguish. “Mother, are you truly saying I killed them? I am your daughter.” I hoped to appeal to some lingering ember of affection. I was wrong. She wouldn’t even look at me, her face a mask of hatred. “Get out of my sight! This family has no place for a thankless wretch like you!” She dragged a trembling maid forward. “The Regent’s house has treated you well, Fanny! Why did you have to harm the young Lord and his sister? Here! Here is the witness who saw it all! Do not even think of denying it!” At the word “witness,” Alistair lunged at the maid, grabbing her by the collar. “What did you say? Did my sister truly murder my children?” The maid nodded, terrified. Just like last time, my mother insisted I was the murderer. I stared at her, my voice catching in my throat. “Mother… why? Why are you doing this to me?” I thought I might see a flicker of remorse, but all I received was the stinging slap of her hand across my face. “Insolence! You have murdered the heirs of this house! You are not worthy to call me mother! Alistair! Have her executed!” That slap didn’t just strike my face; it shattered the last vestiges of love I held for my mother. Alistair, having heard the ‘confession,’ turned to me, his eyes filled with a murderous light. He charged, drawing his sword and thrusting it toward my chest. A suffocating wave of terror washed over me. My vision blurred, but through the haze, I saw Theresa, hiding behind my mother, a triumphant smile on her face. My husband stood beside her, a protective arm around her. I closed my eyes in despair as the cold steel broke my skin. At the last possible second, a dark object flew through the air, striking Alistair’s blade and knocking it aside. A powerful voice boomed through the manor. “Halt!”

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1 Nathan Sterling has an attachment disorder. He recoils from the touch of other women. Everyone said we were fated to be together. And he was always good to me, but he never seemed ready to get married. Then, at his birthday party, I overheard his friend ask, “Nate, you’re not seriously going to marry that stand-up comedian, are you?” He barely lifted an eyelid, his hand lazily stroking the waist of the woman beside him. He let out a sneer. “Are you kidding? I’m just playing a little game with her. A redemption story.” “A woman like her? She’s not fit to tie your shoes, let alone marry me.” I stood outside the door, hesitating, before turning and heading straight to the hospital. Later, Nathan would be on his knees, begging me to forgive him. In the OB-GYN clinic, a man gazed tenderly at the woman’s stomach beside him. She looked back at him, sunlight glinting in their hair. It was a beautiful, picture-perfect moment. It would have been even better if the man in the picture wasn’t my boyfriend. I gave a bitter, self-mocking laugh, my hand resting on my own slightly swollen belly. I guess he wasn’t going to marry me after all. The moment Nathan’s eyes met mine, he panicked. The hand that was on Chloe’s waist shot away as if burned. “Aria, what are you doing here?” The woman beside him seemed resentful of his sudden distance. She reached for his hand, right in front of me. I pretended not to see, my voice flat. “I’m here with a friend.” He nodded awkwardly. “This is… my sister. I’m just going to walk her out.” Chloe stormed past us toward the doctor’s office in a huff. He hurried after her, but not before turning back to me. “Aria, wait for me. I’ll give you a ride home.” I was prepared for it, but hearing it out loud still felt like a punch to the gut. I lowered my head, and a single, traitorous tear fell into the takeout container on my lap. I barely noticed it myself. I mumbled an okay, forced down a few bites, and threw the rest away. If he’d been paying any attention at all, he would have seen the medical chart in my hand. But his mind was clearly elsewhere. I watched the two of them ahead of me, a suffocating tightness in my chest. Their conversation drifted back, loud enough for me to hear. “Your sister? Right. I guess if ‘big brother’ hadn’t been so rough last night, ‘little sister’ wouldn’t be at the hospital today.” “My fault, all my fault. Whatever you want today, I’ll buy it for you, okay?” Behind me, the nurse asked one last time. “Are you sure you want to terminate the pregnancy?” I touched my belly, closed my eyes against a wave of pain, and nodded. A child not conceived in love and anticipation was better off not entering this world at all. After the procedure, I went home. Nathan didn’t come back until late. He smelled of perfume and the cold night air as he climbed into bed, reaching for me like he always did. But I’m allergic to most perfumes. He never wore any. The scent of him made my stomach turn. I subtly shifted away. He grabbed my hand. “Aria, why didn’t you wait for me today?” “Oh, I brought you a gift. It’s a new fragrance from that master perfumer in France. Only three bottles in the whole world.” In the faint moonlight filtering through the window, I stared at him. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I gagged. It was the same perfume I had smelled on Chloe that afternoon. He followed me to the bathroom, his face etched with worry. In the bright light, I saw it clearly: a cluster of love bites on his neck. A testament to the intensity of their afternoon. I pushed his outstretched hand away. “I must have eaten something bad. It’s late, you should go take a shower.” The next morning, the breakfast table was laden with food, including a special porridge he had made himself, supposedly good for the stomach. He wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Aria, come to the auction with me today. Think of it as a make-up anniversary gift.” I nodded silently. He pointed to a beautifully wrapped box on the table and asked if it was a surprise for him. 2 When I confirmed it was, he instinctively moved to open it. I stopped him, forcing a smile. “Wait a week before you open it.” “In a week, this gift will have meaning.” After breakfast, I went to the garage and got into the back seat. As I sat down, a pair of women’s panties fell out from the seat pocket. I said nothing, just stuffed them back in and wiped my hands with an alcohol wipe. In a week, I’d be on the other side of the ocean, working as a psychologist’s assistant. I had only become a stand-up comedian to better understand a former patient’s world. I never expected to meet Nathan at my very first show. It was love at first sight for me. So when he mistook me for a professional comedian, I, for some reason, didn’t correct him. Many patients with psychological issues are resistant to therapists, and I wanted to get close to him. So I became a stand-up comedian, performing on stage every night. I did it for so long I almost forgot what my own dreams were. Since I was leaving, there was no point in making a scene. Hysterics would only be met with more lies. If I couldn’t have the truth, I didn’t want anything at all. When Nathan got to the car, he frowned. “Why are you in the back?” “I’m a bit carsick. It’s more comfortable back here.” He nodded. “Okay, I’ll drive more smoothly then.” The silence in the car was deafening. His phone rang, shattering the quiet. The screen lit up with a photo of the two of us, our smiling faces a cruel irony. The caller ID read “Kitten.” It took me less than a second to guess who “Kitten” was. He quickly silenced the call. It rang again, persistent. He silenced it again, then glanced at me in the rearview mirror, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Work call. So annoying.” I was focused on the scenery outside, trying to burn every detail into my memory before I left. I lowered my head, my expression unreadable. “It’s fine. You can take it.” He pulled the car over and got out. Before he answered, he glanced back into the car. Unfortunately for him, he had accidentally activated the car’s display screen. His chat with “Kitten” was laid bare. Chloe had sent him a photo of an ultrasound report, with a section circled: risk of miscarriage. “Big brother, it’s all your fault for being so rough yesterday. You hurt our baby.” “Wasn’t it you who was teasing me, Kitten? You don’t behave even when you’re pregnant.” Another photo followed. Black lace stockings. He got back into the car, a smile on his face. I quickly switched the screen off. At the auction, he touched my cheek. “Aria, what’s wrong? You look so pale.” I licked my dry lips and shook my head. Chloe arrived, wearing the same black stockings from the photo, her hair in perfect waves, her lips a slash of red. Her gaze was fixed on Nathan, bold and unwavering. “Big brother, what a coincidence. Mind if I join you?” Nathan shot me a nervous glance. I forced a smile. “Be my guest.” Then, in a clumsy, staged move, she bumped into me. I was caught off guard and fell, my ankle twisting beneath me, swelling instantly. Nathan’s panic was palpable. He rushed to help me up. Then he snapped at her, “Apologize to Aria.” She looked defiant, staring him down, but eventually relented with a mumbled, insincere apology. She then sat down as if nothing had happened. Before the auction began, the lights dimmed. In the faint glow from the stage, I saw her hand slide under Nathan’s, guiding it beneath her skirt. His breathing grew heavier. He shot her a glare, as if shocked by her audacity. After a few moments of fumbling, his face flushed an unnatural red. He stood up. “Aria, I’m just going to the restroom.” A moment later, Chloe followed him, shooting me a triumphant look as she left. My heart felt like it was being twisted by a sharp blade, each turn a new wave of agony. Did he think I was blind? He couldn’t even wait? 3 I swallowed the pain and turned to leave. As I passed a utility closet, I saw Nathan pull her into his arms, a hint of reprimand in his eyes. “You shouldn’t have shown up in front of Aria.” The woman, her red lips pouted, tapped his chest playfully. “Why not? Isn’t this more exciting?” “I’m wearing the set you wanted to see most. If you walk away today, there won’t be a next time.” Nathan’s eyes were bloodshot. “You little minx,” he cursed under his breath. What followed were her heavy breaths and coy complaints. “Gently, there’s a baby in here!” Nathan chuckled. “You’re the one who was teasing me.” His hand, however, rested gently on her stomach. The piercing pain in my ankle and the sour ache in my heart overwhelmed me. I backed away silently, despising myself. He was doing this, right in front of me, and I was still hurting over him. Hours later, he called, asking where I had gone. “My ankle hurt too much. I left early.” He said okay, then sent me photos of several auction items, asking which one I liked. I was leaving. None of it mattered. “Whatever,” I said flatly. He started choosing for me, his voice excited. “How about this sapphire necklace? It represents the purest love.” A bitter laugh escaped me. The purest love? Did he hear himself? He was defiling the very meaning of the words. I changed the subject. “Nathan, will you marry me?” There was a long silence on the other end, then a low chuckle. “What, you want to marry me now? Not yet. The wedding I give my Aria has to be the grandest the world has ever seen.” I laughed at myself. So, that was a no. Great. After five years, I finally had my answer. I hung up, whispering to the empty room, “Nathan, be careful you don’t fool yourself with this act of devotion.” Tonight, for the first time in ages, he came home at seven. I deliberately asked him about the necklace. I already knew what had happened. I had received a taunting text from Chloe as soon as the auction ended. “The ‘purest love’? Sorry, it’s mine now. And Nathan will be mine too. You should know when to step aside.” He frowned, a look on his face as if he’d finally caught me in a lie. “I’m sorry, Aria. I didn’t win it. I’ll get you something even better, I promise.” I looked down, a sudden urge to mess with him taking over. “No. I want that one.” A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, his tone sharp. “That’s enough, Aria. I hate it when women are demanding and unreasonable.” Seeing his mask of devotion crack, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Oh, Nathan. You never saw me as an equal, did you? I was just a pet you kept. When you were in a good mood, you’d toss me a treat, and I was supposed to be grateful. But the moment the cat starts to think for itself, you have to find a way to declaw it. I smirked. “Well, what am I supposed to do? My mother is pushing me to get married. Will you marry me?” It was the second time I had asked him that day. With his mask off, his true face was revealed. “Enough, Aria. Are you trying to force my hand?” We parted on bad terms. I don’t know if he was trying to teach me a lesson or if he was just too busy with Chloe, but for the next few days, he didn’t come home. Not a single text. Chloe, however, kept me updated with a steady stream of messages. Three days left. He took her to the North Sea, the trip we were supposed to take. A helicopter dragged a banner across the sky: NATHAN LOVES CHLOE FOREVER. How ironic. Then she sent another photo. Nathan, reading a book on prenatal education. “I told him the baby is still the size of a bean and can’t hear anything, but he insists on reading to it every day~” Her previous taunts hadn’t bothered me. But this photo… this one made my eyes burn.

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After losing my memory, I forgot I was the villainess of the story. I sent a group text to my close contacts: [Sorry, I have amnesia. Who is this…?] Four messages instantly popped up on my phone. The aloof childhood friend I used to torment: [Is this some new way to torture me? Your food is downstairs. Remember to eat.] The loyal adopted brother I used to boss around: [Still mad at your big bro? Sent some cash to your card. I’ll be home tonight to hang out.] The cool heroine I used to prank: [Starting with the drama again? If you’ve lost your memory, go back to sleep. I signed you in for class.] Me: “?” Wait… was I the star of a ‘pampered princess’ story or something? 1. Doctors and nurses bustled back and forth in the hospital room, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic. I pushed myself up, my head swimming. Not far away, a doctor was speaking with a middle-aged man. “How is she doing now?” “Miss Sterling’s amnesia isn’t too severe at the moment. She’s just forgotten certain specific people…” Listening to their conversation, I froze. Amnesia? How could I have amnesia? “I don’t think I have amnesia!” I couldn’t help but interrupt. “I remember my name is Flora Sterling, my dad is Howard Sterling, and my mom is Clara Vanderbilt.” The middle-aged man turned to me, his voice patient. “Then do you remember my name, miss?” I nodded eagerly. “Of course! You’re my family’s butler, Uncle Lee.” The man was silent for a long moment, his expression complex. “Miss… I’m your family’s driver. And my name is Evans, not Lee.” Me: “?” He sighed and turned back to the doctor. “Thank you for your hard work. I’ll go contact her parents now.” From their brief chat, I gathered that I had accidentally fallen down a flight of stairs at the library and was brought to the hospital by a classmate after I passed out. Once they left the room, I finally came to my senses and started flipping through my phone. If it weren’t for my parents’ familiar names in my pinned contacts, I would’ve thought I’d picked up a stranger’s phone. Just then, two messages came in from a contact named “Cold-hearted Monster.” [Be downstairs in thirty minutes to get your takeout.] [I’m not wasting my time finding someone to bring it up to you.] I racked my brain but couldn’t place him. I could only ask: [Are you buying me lunch?] He replied almost instantly, every word dripping with sarcasm. [It is my duty to procure lunch for my lady.] [But next time, could you please give advance notice if you want something from off-campus?] [Otherwise, a thirty-minute wait in line might delay your mealtime.] Well, you’re certainly polite, I thought. But food wasn’t the priority right now. I quickly replied: [No need, I’m not eating today.] He was silent for a moment. Though I couldn’t see his face, I could feel a wave of irritation radiating from the screen. [Is this because the breakfast I brought wasn’t to your liking?] [So you’re angry again?] I rushed to explain: [No, it’s because I have amnesia qwq.] He shot back derisively: [Is this some new method the great Flora Sterling has devised to torture me?] Me: “?” Was I really that horrible? Afraid he wouldn’t believe me, I sent him a picture. [I’m not lying, I’m still in a hospital bed.] A long time passed with no reply. He had either fainted from anger or couldn’t be bothered with me anymore. I scrolled through our chat history. This “Cold-hearted Monster” was apparently responsible for getting my meals, picking up my packages, and buying me bubble tea. Sometimes, he even did my homework and let me copy his answers for exams. My attitude toward him, however, was far from friendly. My tone was bossy and demanding. A pang of guilt washed over me. How could I talk to a classmate like that? “Flora—” The hospital room door was suddenly flung open, and a boy rushed in. He wore a simple white t-shirt, his features sharp and handsome. Even the fingers holding the takeout container were long and elegant. I found myself staring. Some people might lose their memories, but their appreciation for beauty remains unchanged. My standards for my ideal type certainly hadn’t. I looked up at him and asked tentatively, “And you are?” His body went rigid. He pressed his lips together, his gaze dropping. “You don’t remember who I am?” I frowned, thinking hard. “Are you the Cold-hearted Monster?” His expression was complicated. “…My name is Christian.” Christian reached out as if to check the wound on my forehead. “You fell down the stairs? Is it serious?” Seeing me freeze, he stiffly lowered his hand, his tone turning cold again. “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried you hit your head and will try to blame it on me again.” His few words painted a vivid picture of my former selfish, willful self. My guilt deepened. Seeing me silent, he asked again in a low voice, “You really don’t remember me?” I answered honestly. “I don’t. But from our chat history, it looks like you’re the one who runs all my errands.” Christian: “…Not exactly.” I looked up, confused. He took a deep breath. “We’re childhood friends.” When I didn’t say anything, Christian added coolly, “And, of course, there was the childhood betrothal.” I was stunned. “What? But our chat history doesn’t look like that at all…” I thought he was just a classmate I didn’t know well. Christian let out a humorless laugh. “If it weren’t for that, who would willingly be your errand boy every day?!” “Who would go out of their way to buy your meals and save you a seat?” “But you just said it was your duty to get my meals,” I argued, confused. Christian lifted his eyes slightly. “Yes. Isn’t that the duty of a fiancé?” Just then, our driver, Mr. Evans, walked back in. He looked surprised to see Christian. “Christian? What are you doing here?” Christian stood up politely and greeted him with a smile. “I came to see her.” Mr. Evans was about to sit down when Christian’s next words made him jump back to his feet. “By the way, Mr. Evans, Flora doesn’t believe that we grew up together.” “Could you tell her? That we’re already engaged.” Mr. Evans’s eyes widened. “Huh?” He glanced at Christian’s perfectly calm face, then at my bewildered one. After a moment of profound consideration, he nodded with a complex expression. “Yes… that is indeed the case.” 2. The first person I saw when I woke up was Mr. Evans. He had been running around handling my paperwork and contacting my parents, so I had already developed a certain trust in him. And Christian didn’t look like he was joking. A secret joy bloomed in my heart. My ideal type had just transformed into my fiancé. I’ve hit the jackpot! It must be true, then. Even with amnesia, you still fall for the one you were always meant to be with. When Mr. Evans stepped out to take a call, Christian placed the food container on the small table and handed me a bowl and chopsticks. “Eat first.” I glanced at the food and smiled. “What a coincidence, these are all my favorites.” Christian ladled soup into my bowl, his voice even. “It’s not a coincidence. This is the menu you specifically requested this morning.” My guilt returned. “…Was it too much trouble for you?” Christian wiped his hands with a napkin, his tone detached. “It’s not just today that’s been a trouble.” “I’m used to it.” A wave of pity washed over me. I tugged on his sleeve. “Then let’s eat together?” Christian’s body stiffened. He rubbed his nose and cleared his throat. “I only bought one serving.” I was confused again. “Don’t we usually eat together?” Christian turned to look out the window. “…We do. I just… already ate today.” I didn’t doubt him and ate with peace of mind. While he was drinking some water, I chattered away between bites of food. “You know, Christian, the first time I saw you, I felt like I was starting to remember things.” He choked on his water, coughing violently, nearly losing his composure. “You’re remembering?” Christian’s voice sounded strange, losing the calm self-possession he’d had when he first arrived. I nodded. “Yes. The moment I saw you, I thought, we look so good together.” “It really must be because we’re engaged. You truly are my fated husband.” I grinned. “And even though I have amnesia, my standards for my ideal type haven’t changed.” “My dream husband is just like you.” Christian: “…” A faint blush crept up his handsome face, and the tips of his ears turned crimson. He shot up from his chair, nearly knocking over the table. Me: “?” Christian struggled to compose himself, but his flushed cheeks betrayed his true feelings. He held up his phone. “Uh… I just got a notification from my research group. I have to go back.” “I have to turn in some materials for my advisor this afternoon.” I was very understanding. “Then you should hurry back! I’m much better now. I’ll probably be fine after a little rest this afternoon.” Christian nodded, his voice softening. “I’ll come back to see you later tonight.” He practically fled the room. I couldn’t help but sigh. Being a grad student these days seems so tough. A message from your advisor is like a summons from the grim reaper. Mr. Evans returned just then, surprised to find me alone. “Christian left?” I nodded, smiling. “Yes. He said he’d be back later.” Mr. Evans looked relieved, then began to discuss the next steps with me. “The doctor thinks it would be best for a family member to come to the hospital.” “Your parents are abroad and can’t get back right away. Should I contact your brother?” Brother? I have a brother? Seeing my blank expression, Mr. Evans looked as if he expected it. He took my phone, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it back. “This is your brother.” I looked down. A profile picture of a beagle wearing sunglasses stared back at me. The contact name: “Human ATM” Our chat history was sparse, mostly consisting of transfer records from him. And whenever someone made me angry, he was the first to take care of it, with the speed of a paid subscription service. “Flora, you probably don’t remember, but Derek is your brother. Not by blood, he was adopted by your parents.” “He’s three years older than you and has always taken good care of you,” Mr. Evans explained. I understood. I sent a message to the contact. [Bro.] He replied almost instantly. With fifty consecutive question marks. I didn’t understand his surprise, but I dutifully typed on. [Are you free right now?] Human ATM: [Yeah! What’s up? Who bullied you again?] Human ATM: [Send me their info, I’ll go sort them out.] Human ATM: [Need cash? Sending it now.] Human ATM: [Also what did you just call me? Can you say it again TvT…] What a strange brother. And what a strange request. But I obliged him: [Brother, can you come to the hospital?] Another string of question marks appeared. Then, a voice call request popped up. I’ve always hated answering calls. Amnesia hadn’t changed that. I ruthlessly declined it. Human ATM: [? Why didn’t you answer? What happened?] Human ATM: [Is this a scammer?!] Human ATM: [Phone scammers can rot in hell. Give her phone back or I’ll end you.] Me: […Don’t want to answer the phone. Too lazy.] Human ATM: [Oh, it’s you.] Me: [I have amnesia.] Another row of question marks. It really fit his profile picture. Human ATM: [So do you still remember who I am?] I was getting annoyed. [Yes, you’re my brother, aren’t you?] Human ATM: [Yes, yes!! I’m your favorite brother!!] Please stop adding your own weird adjectives, I thought. I pretended not to see it: [If you have time, can you come to the hospital? The doctor wants to see a family member.] Human ATM: [Send me the address.] After sending the location, I added, fearing he might worry: [Don’t worry, it’s not serious.] Human ATM: [Okay, big bro will be there soon ^^.] I reassured him: [No rush, Mr. Evans is with me. My fiancé just came to see me too.] There was a moment of silence from his end. Then, a rapid-fire string of shocked question marks. Human ATM: [Fiancé?? Who the FUCK is he!!?]

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I am the false princess. But this is no secret. My purpose was to protect the Crown Prince, to be a decoy for the true princess. The day the Prince ascended the throne, I went to offer my congratulations in secret. But I overheard the Queen say to him: “Aria has occupied that position for far too long. It’s time for her to disappear, and for your sister to return.” I clutched my gift tightly as I heard my noble, perfect brother reply, his voice clear and cold, “Of course. I will make the arrangements.” That night, a great fire swept through my wing of the palace. While everyone else was fighting the flames, I slipped into a crowd of servants being granted leave and escaped. I never knew that the composed, dignified young emperor had stumbled through the chaos, running headfirst into the inferno to find me. 1 It was March in the capital city of Aurelia, the season of the Imperial Examinations. Scholars from across the entire Empire of Solara gathered here, hoping to walk the hallowed halls of power. Inside a modest inn, a tall, handsome young man burst into a room, his face alight with joy. “Aria, I passed! I passed! Tenth place! Tenth place!” I had just set down a bundle of folded clothes when Carson swept me into a fierce hug. This man, usually so reserved and proper, who spoke in carefully constructed sentences, was now acting like a child, clinging to me and refusing to let go. I laughed and patted his back. He finally came to his senses, releasing me abruptly and taking two steps back, stammering apologies. I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter, calling him a fool. He just blushed and couldn’t meet my eyes. Three years ago, I escaped the palace. I was deceived by scoundrels and nearly sold into servitude. It was Carson who saved me and took me home. He had a mother with a bad leg, and their home was humble and poor. The first night I was there, he sat by my door until morning. Overwhelmed with guilt, I left him the only valuable I had—a silver bracelet—and slipped away. I didn’t know how cruel the world outside could be. Without money, I was helpless. When I was falsely accused of theft and dragged before the local magistrate, Carson appeared again and saved me. He shielded me with his own, not-so-broad body, his scholar’s dignity abandoned as he argued fiercely in my defense. It was then that I understood something for the first time. When the Queen and the Prince had watched me being punished in the palace, they had explained with cold faces that the royal family had a strict code of conduct. They couldn’t lower themselves to squabble with a lesser concubine, so I would just have to endure it. But when you truly care for someone, you don’t let them suffer. So this time, I didn’t leave. I went home with him. To repay his kindness, I did what simple chores I could. A year ago, Carson’s mother was on her deathbed. With her as our witness, we were married. But we never shared a bed. He had told me, “Aria, you must come from a noble family. Though I don’t know what misfortune has befallen you to grant me the honor of marrying you, I dare not take advantage. When I pass the examinations, I swear I will give you a proper wedding, with all the traditional rites and a grand carriage. If I fail, I will still treat you as my own sister and find you a worthy husband.” Others might have thought his words were empty promises, but not Carson. His gaze was honest, and he was a man of his word. For him, that spontaneous hug was already a great transgression. 2 Carson passing the examinations was a good thing. But a sense of unease settled deep within me. Not long after I faked my death and fled the palace three years ago, news spread that the “false princess” had usurped the true princess’s place. That same year, the real princess, Princess Iris, was welcomed into the palace. When I heard the news, I was selling paintings with Carson in the market. It was only a fleeting moment of shock, and then I was doubled over with laughter, listening to Carson earnestly lecture a customer on the principles of art. But our peaceful days didn’t last long. A public notice appeared, issued by the new Emperor, Alistair, seeking a missing person. In that instant, the world went dark around me. I had never imagined they would hunt me down so relentlessly. I was about to make an excuse to leave when Carson found me first. He told me he and his mother were moving back to his hometown, to the local academy, and asked if I would go with them. I couldn’t have been more relieved. And so, I spent three years hiding in a remote town. It was only when Carson came to the capital for the examinations that I dared to venture out and breathe again. 3 Carson saw my anxiety, but he didn’t know the truth. He thought it was just a young woman’s worries. So one night, during the Lantern Festival, under a sky filled with glowing paper lanterns, he made a vow to me. “I, Carson, swear that in this life, I will never fail you.” I smiled. “Even if I’m a wanted fugitive of the state? Even if I’ve committed terrible crimes? Even if… I’ve lied to you and deceived you?” Carson gripped my hand tightly. “If you are a fugitive, I will not harbor you, but I will never abandon you. I will stand with you. If you live, I live. If you die, I die.” I hugged him, laughing and calling him a fool, but tears streamed down my face. Someone in the magnificent palace had once said something similar to me. But he had broken his promise. 4 Carson’s performance in the final palace examination was flawless. He placed fourth in the second rank of scholars. I could almost see his brilliant future unfolding before me. We could be assigned to a remote post, become local officials, and bring prosperity to the people. But who could have predicted it? Who could have predicted that at the celebratory banquet, Princess Iris would single out Carson to be her personal tutor? When Carson told me, I was so stunned that the hot wax from the candle I was holding nearly dripped onto my fingers. How could this be? I closed my eyes. Why couldn’t I escape her? The Queen had never been favored by the late King. To protect the Crown Prince and her young daughter, I was secretly brought to the palace. From a young age, the Queen told me of her hardships. The Prince knew I wasn’t his real sister and treated me with indifference. The Queen saw me only as a substitute. At the time, I didn’t know my true identity. I only thought my brother was cold and my mother’s life was difficult. So I did everything I could to please them. I took the blame for my brother’s mistakes, became a pawn in my mother’s courtly schemes. When my brother was in danger, I stepped forward and drank poisoned wine for him. That night, as the poison coursed through me, my brother held me tightly, begging me not to die. It was the first time I had ever seen such a vulnerable expression on his usually stoic face. It was then I realized he wasn’t completely indifferent to me. The thought brought me so much joy that I could ignore the searing pain in my gut. Looking back now, I realize my brother was probably just afraid of losing such a useful tool. All the warmth he showed me afterward was likely just a way to ensure my loyalty. 5 The first day Carson returned from his new post, I waited for him at the door with a lantern. The deep green official’s robe made him look as stately as a pine tree, a true gentleman. He took my hand and gave me a small box of peach blossom cakes from a famous shop in the south district. “Look what I brought you.” The Imperial Palace was in the north district. The cakes were still warm. The craftsmanship of the common folk couldn’t compare to the palace’s, but I loved these cakes. Or rather, I loved the special consideration they represented. Carson loved to tell me about his day, about the things he saw in the palace. I loved having someone to talk to, so even though I knew the palace better than he did, I pretended to be fascinated. “The peach blossoms in the palace are in full bloom. I remember you love them most. If I get the chance, I’ll take you to see them. There’s a cat there, a calico, very proud, they say. But guess what? The moment it saw me today, it started rubbing against my legs. And, and…” Carson tirelessly tried to paint a picture of the palace for me, but he saw my face growing paler and paler. “Aria? What’s wrong?” “You love peach blossoms. In the future, shall I fill your palace with them?” “This cat is filthy, Aria. Don’t touch it.” “Alright, if Aria is willing to beg me, I suppose I could help you hide this little creature.” “Aria, when I ascend the throne, I will…” … Familiar words flooded my mind, finally dissolving into the cold, sharp blade of his final decree: “I will make the arrangements.” I forced a stiff smile for Carson’s concerned face. “It’s nothing. I’m just a little tired.” Carson watched me for a long moment, then suddenly pulled me into his arms. “Aria, you’re not happy. You haven’t really smiled since we came here. Give me some time. I’ll ask the Emperor for a transfer to a remote post. If you don’t like it here, we’ll leave, okay?” I felt as if I drew strength from his words. I hugged him back tightly. “Carson. Carson.” 6 On Carson’s third day at his post, he was punished by the Queen Mother, forced to kneel at the palace gates. When I heard the news, I was frantic with worry, but I didn’t dare step outside our home for fear of bringing him more trouble. When he finally limped through the door that evening, the tears I had been holding back finally fell. Carson saw them and panicked, rushing to wipe them away. “Aria, don’t cry. I’m back, see? I’m fine. And look what I brought you! Cakes from Li’s bakery.” He comforted me, coaxing me gently, even though he was the one who was hurt. “Why did the Queen Mother punish you?” In my memory, the Queen Mother was not a woman prone to anger. She preferred to make people disappear quietly. At my question, Carson fell silent. He held me tightly and said, “Aria, I will not fail you. I will not fail you.” The words made no sense. But they were explained the next day. Princess Iris had asked Emperor Alistair to grant her a marriage to Carson, and Carson had refused. “Your Majesty, I am already betrothed. My love for her is unwavering. I am grateful for the Princess’s favor, but I dare not presume. I beg Your Majesty to forgive my impertinence. I am willing to accept a lifelong post in the provinces and never return to the capital, to appease the Princess’s anger.” This was a massive scandal. Everyone knew the princess had been wronged for years, her position usurped. Since her return, she had become the apple of the Queen Mother’s eye, getting anything she desired. The enraged Queen Mother demanded Carson’s immediate execution, but Princess Iris stopped her. One wanted to kill him, the other wanted to keep him. In the end, for the sake of stability, Alistair made a decision: my status would be demoted. Iris would be the wife, and I would be the concubine. Iris genuinely liked Carson, so even though royal consorts were not allowed to have concubines, she compromised. It seemed like a happy resolution for everyone. Except for Carson. His eyes were red with fury. And so, this newly minted scholar, after only three days in office, resigned. In the court, all royal consorts held official positions. This act was an undeniable declaration of his heart. “I do not consent to Aria being a concubine. I wish to resign from my post and return home. I beseech Your Majesty to grant my request.” I don’t know which of his words moved the cold Emperor, but he slowly spoke. “Your wife’s name is Aria?” “Yes.” Alistair was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “I do not wish to separate a fated pair. Since you are unwilling, I will not force the matter. Let it be dropped.” And so, this major crisis was resolved peacefully. When Carson told me, he was still marveling. “I was thinking at the time, if the Emperor really forced me to marry the princess, I would either resign or spill my blood in the throne room. I could never betray you. Fortunately, His Majesty is a wise ruler. He spared my life and saved us both. I will serve him loyally for the rest of my days to repay his kindness.” But when I heard Alistair ask my name, my heart had seized. Hearing Carson talk of spilling his blood in court, I forgot everything else. “You’d spill your blood in the throne room? You… you… if you did that, I’d follow you to the grave just to yell at you.” Carson saw how angry I was and took my hand. “Aria, don’t be angry. I was wrong. But Aria, the court is a dangerous place. I might leave this world before you. I don’t believe a woman should remain a widow. Don’t follow me in death. If you find someone you like, you can remarry. The rest of your life is too long. I’m afraid of you being lonely.” In the lamplight, Carson’s gaze was sincere and bright. I cried, a hiccup escaping me. “You fool. Where in this world could I ever find another fool like you?” 7 The matter of the marriage was dropped, but I had a feeling that, given the Queen Mother’s temperament, she wouldn’t let us off so easily. Sure enough, a few days later, an invitation came from the palace, asking me to attend a flower-viewing party. Carson was only a minor official. As his wife, how could I possibly be worthy of such an event? Besides, I would never dare set foot in the palace again. So I claimed illness. To make it convincing, I rubbed my face with mugwort, causing red blotches to appear all over my skin. That was enough to fool the royal physician. But at the same time, rumors spread that I was hideously ugly. My preference for staying at home became “proof” that I was ashamed to be seen. When Carson heard, he cupped my face in his hands. “They are all fools. My Aria is the most beautiful girl in the world.” I was about to tease him for being so glib, but he placed a solemn kiss on my forehead. “Aria, will you marry me? Properly? I’ve saved enough for a grand carriage and a magnificent procession.” His eyes crinkled with a smile. It was infectious. And so, I heard myself say, “Yes.” 8 Carson went to the palace to request leave for our wedding, but he didn’t come back. As I stood at the door with a lantern, a small sedan chair was carried up. A thin, reedy voice called out. I knew instantly it was someone from the palace. “Lady Carson, your husband is drunk in the palace. You are requested to come and fetch him.” I covered my face in fear. “My husband never drinks to excess. Why would he suddenly be drunk?” The eunuch let out a strange laugh. “That, this servant wouldn’t know. I only know that if you do not go, your husband will not be coming back.” As he spoke, he revealed a jade pendant. It was Carson’s. I gripped the lantern, my body frozen. It seemed like a long time passed, or maybe no time at all. I heard myself say, “Let’s go.” I couldn’t let him lose his career, lose his life, for my sake. The one who wanted to see me wasn’t the Queen Mother. It was Iris. The beautiful princess had an air of naive innocence. When she saw me, she was very disappointed. She didn’t recognize me, the person who had lived her life for sixteen years. “You really are plain. I don’t know what my dear Carson sees in you. Well, dispose of her cleanly. Have someone return the pendant secretly. Don’t let Carson know.” I was gagged and dragged out of the hall. “What do we do with her? It’s not easy to get out of the palace now.” “Then deal with her in the palace. This place is vast enough to hide one more body.” “The Rose Garden is deserted. Dump her there.” Hearing this, my eyes widened. The Rose Garden. That was the name of my old quarters. Why, after all this, was I back where I started? “But… aren’t we forbidden from entering there?” “That’s what makes it the perfect place to handle this.” “Stop dawdling. Let’s go.” I was jostled along the path until the sweet scent of peach blossoms filled the air. “We’re here.” “Quick, quick, just drown her and bury her. Get it over with.” The next second, water engulfed me. The will to live made me struggle. The eunuch seemed inexperienced at this, and I managed to break free. “Who’s there?” A familiar voice made me freeze, and I was pushed back under. “What is His Majesty doing here?” “It’s fine, it’s fine. He’ll leave soon. Just hold her down and it’ll be fine.” In that moment, I hesitated between crying for help and staying silent. Until: “Your Majesty, I have gathered the finest peach blossoms. Thank you for your generosity.” Those words struck me like a thunderbolt. An overwhelming sense of injustice surged through me. I couldn’t think anymore. I fought my way to the surface. “Husband, save me!” Alistair’s body went rigid. He turned around in disbelief. I scrambled past him and threw myself into Carson’s arms. “Husband, save me!” Before Carson’s comforting words could come, a hoarse voice cut through the air. “Aria? Is that you?”

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Max Croft’s secretary was pregnant. At our ninth-anniversary dinner party, he brought her home. His tone was casual, almost breezy, as he gave me my instructions. “The young lady is a bit particular about her food. From now on, her meals—three a day—must never be the same. And she’s a timid thing, needs someone with her to sleep. Pack up your things and move into the guest room.” I didn’t say a word. I simply picked up the suitcase I had already packed and walked calmly toward the front door. The butler tried to stop me, but Max let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Let her have her little tantrum. She’ll come crawling back in three days, you’ll see.” Laughter erupted around the room. Right there, in front of me, they placed a ten-million-dollar bet. A bet that I wouldn’t last the night before I came back like a pathetic lapdog, weeping and begging Max to let me in. But they didn’t know. The Maybach, arranged by him, was already waiting for me outside. This time, I was really leaving. 1 As I was about to step out the main door of the villa, Max’s voice stopped me. “Claire, leave your jade bracelet. Chloe has been having nightmares lately.” The bracelet was the last thing my parents left me. He met my reddened eyes with an icy indifference. “Name your price.” How much was a nine-year marriage, one spent trampled in the mud, worth? I couldn’t be bothered to calculate. I only knew the last time I refused to give my ski goggles to Chloe on the slopes, I’d been stripped naked and left stranded on the mountainside. I took off the bracelet and slipped it onto Chloe’s wrist. “I wish the child in your belly a safe and peaceful life,” I said to her. At this blessing, Max, for the first time, offered me a sliver of an olive branch. “Claire, if you’re obedient enough, my child can be your child.” The words had barely left his mouth when the bracelet on Chloe’s wrist suddenly slipped off and shattered on the floor. Seeing a shard graze Chloe’s leg, Max swept her up in his arms, princess-style, and roared for the butler to call the family doctor. The sight of his frantic panic made the guests look at me with amused, pitying smiles. It wasn’t just them who found the scene amusing. I found it laughable myself. Last night, when I had a heart attack, Max was on his way out to watch a meteor shower with Chloe. Even as I foamed at the mouth and collapsed, he had stepped over my body without a flicker of emotion. The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was his instruction to the butler. “Have the entire living room disinfected. Chloe is coming home tomorrow, and I won’t have her smelling any foul odors.” My grip tightened on the handle of my suitcase. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist, his face a mask of cold fury. “Apologize.” “What—?” Before I could finish, he had dragged me to my knees at Chloe’s feet. My knees scraped against the broken jade, staining the white marble with blood. The sight of the bloodstain made his eyes flicker with disgust as he released my hand. “You deliberately dropped Chloe’s bracelet and injured her. Don’t you think you owe her an apology?” Since marrying Max, the words “I’m sorry” had become my mantra. The soup is too bland, I’m sorry. I worried you were drunk and texted you, I’m sorry for disturbing you. I accidentally saw Chloe’s text asking you to a hotel, I’m so, so sorry for invading your privacy… I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, then straightened up with grim resignation. I bowed a full ninety degrees to Chloe, apologizing three times, before turning my deadened eyes to Max. “Is that enough?” I asked softly. His chest heaved as he stared at the blood on my lips. “Claire, your grandfather isn’t here to protect you now. Who are you putting on this pathetic, disgusting act for?” Before I could reply, the family doctor rushed in. Pushing me aside like a piece of furniture, Max led the doctor to Chloe. While his world revolved entirely around her, I walked swiftly out the door. The moment I stepped out of the villa, I heard it. Beep-beep! Two sharp honks. Seeing the silver car outside the iron gates, I quickened my pace. But before the gates could open, two bodyguards appeared, forcibly dragging me back into the house. In the study, Max had me tied up. He ordered a needle, as thick as a child’s arm, to be plunged into my vein. Through the half-open door, I heard the doctor’s worried voice. “Mr. Croft, Mrs. Croft and Miss Chloe both have the rare RH-negative blood type, but Mrs. Croft has a history of heart disease. Forcing a blood transfusion could trigger acute shock. I really think we should go to a hospital to treat Miss Chloe’s anemia…” “Don’t try to persuade me,” Max’s voice was like ice. “Your only job is to get Chloe healthy. I’ll handle the rest.” Hearing his approaching footsteps, I slowly closed my eyes. “Does it hurt?” His voice, for once, held a hint of comfort. “Just bear with it. It’ll be over soon.” I turned my head away, unwilling to waste another word on him. After they had drawn 800cc of my blood, my lips had turned a deathly shade of purple. Just then, Chloe, lying in the master bedroom, let out a soft cough. At the sound, Max immediately stopped the doctor from removing the needle and demanded he draw double the amount. The doctor, sweating profusely, told Max that if they continued, I would very likely die. After a two-second pause, Max said only this: “Chloe is pregnant. The pregnant woman comes first.” “But—” I cut the doctor off. “Do it. Just let me leave when you’re finished.” Staring at my bloodless face, Max’s eyes flashed with cold anger. He opened his mouth, about to demand if I was done with my games, if I was really going to run away over such a trivial matter. But a delicate, honeyed voice called out, “Max, darling~” And just like that, he was gone. Two days later, I woke up in a hospital, having been admitted for shock. The first thing I saw was Max, sitting by my bed, reviewing documents. Our eyes met and held for a long, silent moment. He emotionlessly brought a bowl of congee over, gesturing as if to feed me. I shook my head. “I can do it myself.” He watched quietly as I finished half the bowl. “Are you feeling unwell anywhere?” he asked. I answered with a question of my own. “Could you please pass me my phone?” Perhaps my tone was too distant. Max froze for several seconds before contacting the butler to have my phone brought over. He noticed the numerous missed calls on the screen. “Who’s been calling?” he asked, his tone sharp. He’d never been one for so many questions. A flicker of annoyance crossed my face. “Someone you don’t know,” I said simply. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, looking down at me with cold eyes. “Claire, how long are you going to keep up this spoiled princess act? You think you can push your luck with me?” In the past, when he was angry, I would have immediately started examining my own faults while trying to soothe him. But now, I just pointed to his vibrating phone. “Chloe’s looking for you,” I said, my face a blank slate. A smile touched his lips. As was his habit, he turned away from me and stepped into the hospital corridor to take the call. The moment he left, my phone rang. I answered. Before I could speak, the anxious voice on the other end burst out. “You said you were coming to find me. Claire, did you change your mind?” “No, I didn’t. I just ran into some… trouble.” “Trouble? What happened to you? No, this won’t do. I have to come back myself—” I cut off his frantic stream of words, my gaze dropping. “Just give me a few more days.” Max returned to the room just as I ended the call. He noticed the faint smile playing on my lips, a smile he hadn’t seen in a long, long time. An unfamiliar tightness clenched in his chest. But he had just promised Chloe he would be right back to sing a lullaby to her and the baby. So, he didn’t have time to ask who I was talking to. It was probably that cousin who visited me often. After all, since marrying him, my social circle had dwindled to just female relatives. Picking up his files, Max spoke without turning back. “Claire, something’s come up at the office. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that, he didn’t appear. But thanks to our mutual friends, a steady stream of videos of him and Chloe found their way to me. He took her to banquets, to dinner parties. He was like a young man in the throes of first love, eagerly introducing her to everyone he knew. The day I was discharged, Max posted a nine-photo collage on his social media. At sunset, he stood in a romantic hot air balloon, cradling Chloe’s blushing face and kissing her deeply. I posted a comment: [Wishing you two a beautiful baby and a lifetime of happiness.] Ten minutes later, my phone rang. It was Max. I didn’t answer. Half an hour later, after completing my discharge paperwork alone, I saw Max and Chloe at the entrance of the obstetrics and gynecology department. I overheard a young nurse at the front desk cooing at Chloe. “Mrs. Croft, your husband dotes on you so much. He accompanies you to every single appointment. During the ultrasound, he was so worried the gel would be too cold for you that he insisted on warming it in his hands first before letting us use it.” The other pregnant women around them looked on with undisguised envy. I subconsciously touched my abdomen. I remembered a time when there was a child there. The day I had the car accident, the day I miscarried from blood loss, I had tearfully video-called Max. What I saw instead was a naked Chloe. “Mrs. Croft,” she had purred, “Mr. Croft lost a game to me, so he’s currently tied to the bed receiving his punishment. Was there something you needed him for?” I didn’t say a word. I just hung up. Less than a minute later, Max himself called back. He had his arm around a teary-eyed, wronged-looking Chloe as he berated me for being petty and stupid. He had also said: “A useless idiot like you who can’t even hold onto her own child… I really wonder what you’re good for. Claire, you might as well have just been hit by a truck and died.” Shaking myself from the memory, I was about to take a detour when Max walked over, his face cold. “What are you doing just standing there like an idiot?” I lowered my eyes, instinctively explaining, “I wasn’t following you. It was just a coincidence. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” “Wait.” As Max frowned and called out, a flash of jealousy crossed Chloe’s eyes. She tightened her grip on his arm and smiled at me. “Mrs. Croft, I’m so grateful to you for the blood transfusion. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be feeling dizzy. Max, darling, please, can’t you let Mrs. Croft come home with us? Please?” Max adoringly tapped her nose. “You’re the kindest pregnant woman in the world, my love. Whatever you say, goes.” Since I was planning to go back for my luggage anyway, I didn’t refuse Chloe’s “kindness.” Inside the spacious black car, just as Chloe had intended, I quickly spotted a pair of not-quite-dry lace panties wedged in the seat cushions. “Oh my! How did… how did this end up in the car? Max, darling, didn’t you tell me you got rid of it?” Chloe bit her lip and buried herself in his chest, playfully swatting at him. Max chuckled, apologizing profusely, all while subtly observing my reaction. When he saw that I wasn’t angry at all, the strange tightness he’d felt in the hospital room returned with a vengeance. “Claire, you’ve been staring at your phone since you got in the car.” His tone was sharp, laced with something like jealousy. “Are you chatting with your cousin, or someone else… someone I don’t know?” Having finished booking my flight, I turned off the screen. “Just browsing the news.” My answer only seemed to deepen the displeasure on his face. He snatched the phone from my hand. “What’s the password?” he demanded. “My birthday.” Nine years of marriage. Such a simple six-digit number. He tried again and again until the phone locked itself, but he never managed to open it. The rest of the drive was silent. As soon as the car stopped, Max, his face etched with concern, helped a morning-sick Chloe into the master bedroom. Then he ordered the cook to prepare all of Chloe’s favorite foods. As he came downstairs, he saw my lonely figure heading towards the guest room. After a moment’s thought, he said to the cook, “Make a couple of the Mrs.’s usual dishes as well. And set the table for three.” In the guest room, I opened my suitcase to find that all my clothes had been cut to shreds. Fortunately, the passports and documents tucked away in the inner layer were unharmed. Just as I gathered my documents, ready to leave, Chloe blocked the doorway. She held a black bottle, her eyes raking over me with contempt. “Claire, I didn’t realize you had such a high tolerance for humiliation. I’ve moved into your house, made you the laughingstock of our entire social circle, and you’re still clinging to the Croft family like a leech.” “But I guess it makes sense. That old hag of a grandmother of yours finally kicked the bucket last month. Without her backing you, you have no choice but to cling to Max like he’s your last lifeline, right?” At this, she seemed to recall something amusing. “Claire, do you know why Max refused to fly you in the helicopter to see your grandmother on her deathbed? Because he had promised to take me to see the sunset at the beach that day. See this photo on my lock screen? It was taken right then.” Smack. I slapped the phone from her hand and, losing all restraint, lunged for her throat. The bottle slipped from her grasp, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. In the struggle, Chloe frantically managed to ignite the spilled fuel. Thick smoke billowed, and flames roared to life. Having just been discharged from the hospital, I was quickly overcome, my body going limp as I collapsed to the floor. That’s when I heard Max’s voice. “Claire!” It was followed by the frantic shouts of the staff. “Sir, it’s too dangerous! You can’t go in! Wait for security to bring the fire extinguishers!” “Get out of my way! Claire is still in there!” He ignored the danger and rushed into the burning room. He just hadn’t expected Chloe to be in there as well. “Max, darling, save—” Chloe didn’t need to finish. Without a moment’s hesitation, Max swept her into his arms, didn’t spare me a single glance, and turned to leave. Half an hour later, after calming Chloe down, Max searched the entire villa. He couldn’t find me anywhere. In the sterile light of the late-night airport, I mailed a package and, coughing, boarded a flight to London. Just before takeoff, I received a text from him: [I don’t have time to play hide-and-seek. Chloe has a check-up at 10 am tomorrow. You be there too, for a lung examination.] I didn’t reply. I removed the SIM card and turned off the phone. Max Croft, from this day forward, we will never meet again.

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An ambulance brought in a completely naked young woman, an unknown fluid dripping down her legs. A doctor, flustered, found me and asked me to lead the surgery. He said the girl had multiple objects lodged inside her, making the procedure incredibly difficult. No one else dared to do it. I took the surgical consent form to find the family member. “I’ll sign!” I stared at the man before me and froze. He was my husband, the man I shared my life with. My husband, Daniel, who had used work as an excuse not to see me on Valentine’s Day, had been cheating with another woman. A wave of nausea washed over me as I watched him unhesitatingly write “spouse” on the form. I was in my surgical scrubs, my face covered by a mask. He didn’t recognize me. He grabbed my hand, pleading, “Doctor, you have to save my wife.” I yanked my hand away. The wedding ring on his finger clattered to the floor. 01 Adhering to the principle that all life is precious, I entered the operating room. Looking at the woman on the table—her hair a mess, her face a bloodless, pale mask—my expression darkened. Who would have thought that the person lying on the operating table would be my best friend. All this time, I had never suspected a thing between them. Before I could even process my thoughts, my best friend’s legs began to tremble uncontrollably on the table, a clear sign of extreme pain. I knew we had to operate immediately. A cucumber had been inserted inside her, with a tennis ball wedged at the end. It was stuck. If not removed promptly, it would be life-threatening. That something so absurd could actually happen… And the person responsible was the man I shared my life with. I was about to administer anesthesia, preparing to use forceps to forcibly remove the foreign objects. But unbelievably, even in her agony, my friend didn’t forget to flirt with my husband. “Danny, come in and stay with me. I’m scared to be alone.” “Doctor, let him in. Now.” I tried to hold her trembling body down, my eyes meeting the anesthesiologist’s, signaling him to proceed. But she pushed the doctor away, ignoring the pain in her lower body as she tried to sit up. “If he’s not with me, I’m not having the surgery.” The other medical staff in the room exchanged uneasy glances. They had never seen such a bizarre patient. With the situation at a standstill, the department head waved his hand, allowing Daniel to come in from outside. “Get him scrubbed in.” “Once you’re in, don’t move around. Just stand to the side and watch.” After scrubbing in, Daniel rushed past me and took Hailey’s hand. “It’s all my fault. I got too carried away.” Hailey reached up and caressed his face, managing a weak smile. “It’s okay. To make you happy, we can do it again next time.” “It’s because you’re so charming. I’d do anything for you.” Listening to their banter, I froze for a second. The scalpel in my hand slipped and fell to the floor. Seeing my carelessness, Daniel roared at me. “How did someone like you become a doctor? With hands like that, what if you slip and cut the patient?” “I suggest you take this seriously. If anything happens to my wife, this hospital is finished!” “If you can’t do it, just say so! I’ll take my wife to a major hospital. I know people there, much more professional than you.” Wife? A bitter smile formed on my lips. The only reason he had come to this smaller clinic was probably to avoid running into me at the provincial hospital where I worked. But he never could have imagined that I would be here today, supervising a training session. And that I would happen to run into him and his little girlfriend. Almost no one at this clinic knew who my husband was, so he wasn’t afraid of anyone telling on him. That’s why he could so brazenly pretend to be married to someone else here. He would never, in his entire life, have guessed that I was standing right in front of him. Listening to him spew his filth. The surgery was quick. After the anesthesia, it was a simple matter of removing the objects. After the procedure, as I walked out of the operating room, I heard an impatient voice from the hallway. “Just make up an excuse. I’m busy here. I don’t have time to spend Valentine’s Day with her.” “Tell her I’m in an important meeting and not to call me at all today.” Not long after he hung up, I received a message from his assistant. “Mr. Hayes is in a meeting and might have to go on a business trip out of state. He’ll be busy for the next couple of days. He wanted me to apologize to you.” “The roses he ordered for you have been delivered to your home. That’s all.” “Okay, I understand.” My calm demeanor seemed to surprise the assistant. After all, I was usually very interested in Daniel’s schedule, constantly pestering his assistant for details. After hanging up, I was about to take a break when another doctor came running towards me in a panic. 02 “Dr. Evans, come quick!” “That patient from before, something’s wrong!” There was a large bloodstain on his chest. I was startled. “It’s the patient’s heart. She just vomited blood.” How could this be? I didn’t understand. I rushed to a computer to look up Hailey’s pre-operative examination reports. All I found was blank data. Besides her name and age, all other critical information was missing. A nurse explained anxiously, “The patient was an emergency case. She’s been receiving treatment at the provincial hospital, so we don’t have her records here.” I suddenly understood. For them to be playing so rough, they must have been using drugs. The patient was likely suffering from kidney failure induced by some kind of substance. I immediately contacted the lab. “Get a blood test for her, now. Give me the results as soon as they’re ready.” The patient was rushed back into the operating room. Just as I was about to enter, Daniel blocked my path. Without a word, he slapped me across the face. “It’s your fault, you quack! I knew you were incompetent. Go get the best doctor in this hospital, now!” The muscles in his face trembled with rage, his eyes shot with fury. Other medical staff rushed forward to intervene, shielding me behind them. But Daniel was relentless, shouting abuse. “If anything happens to her today, none of you will get away with it. Especially you! You’ll pay with your life!” The faces of the doctors around me turned grim. The man’s words were vicious. This madman was a completely different person from the charming, sophisticated man I thought I knew. It was only then that I truly understood. I had never seen him for who he really was. “What is wrong with you? Doctors aren’t gods. They can’t cure every disease. Besides, if her condition was so serious, why didn’t you go to the main provincial hospital?” “Yeah! If you’re so well-connected, why not go to a major hospital?” people in the crowd started to chime in. Daniel was, of course, unable to answer. He wouldn’t dare go to the provincial hospital. Too many people there knew him. The lab report arrived. I glanced at the data and immediately understood the situation. All the indicators pointed to one thing. Hailey had overdosed on stimulants. No wonder her heart rate was so high. What was even more infuriating was that Hailey was also pregnant. It must have been too early for them to have noticed. There was no time to wonder who the father was. I held up the report and roared at Daniel. “She’s pregnant, and you let her take those drugs? You’re worse than an animal!” “In all my years as a doctor, you are the most despicable man I have ever seen!” Daniel’s face turned deathly pale. He mumbled, “The guy at the pharmacy said… it was harmless.” I was about to retort when, from behind me, my best friend’s furious voice cut through the air. “I took the drugs willingly! What business is it of yours, you outsider?” “You uptight women will never understand my kind of happiness!” She wanted to say more, but her body could no longer support her shouting. She began to convulse violently and then passed out. There was no time to lose. I quickly assigned tasks to the surgical team, and we prepared to enter the operating room. Just then, my arm was grabbed. It was Daniel, holding a bank card. “All this talk, it’s about this, isn’t it?” “There’s ten thousand on this card. Fix her up, and there’s a bonus in it for you.” I took the card from him. A flicker of pleasure crossed his face. Then, right in front of him, I threw the card on the floor. “Get out of my way.” 03 Hailey’s condition was extremely critical. I had never dealt with a similar case, and the difficulty of the surgery skyrocketed. We had to consider her physical state and the side effects of the drugs. I was giving it my all, but we were at a point where we had to choose between the mother and the child. Since the fetus was still small, we had to choose the mother. The doctors in the room looked troubled. They knew that with this level of trauma, it would be nearly impossible for her to have children in the future. But the patient’s fading vital signs left us no time for hesitation. I looked up at one of my assistants. “Go have the family member sign the critical condition notice. Inform him of the situation. The fetus cannot be saved.” I was just about to focus on the next step of the procedure—stopping the bleeding and suturing—when a sharp, tearing pain shot through my abdomen. It was so intense I almost collapsed. I had to sit down and rest. Fortunately, we hadn’t reached the most critical part of the surgery yet, and a colleague took over for me. I gasped for air, and after a moment, the pain subsided. Then, I forced my weakened body to complete the most difficult part of the surgery. After more than two hours, the operation was finally over. We observed her for a while longer, and only after confirming that Hailey’s vitals were stable did we wheel her out of the operating room. The moment I stepped out, my legs gave way, and I nearly fell. The other doctors rushed to support me. “You’ve been through so much, Dr. Evans. Performing surgery while pregnant… you’re incredible.” “You’re a true national treasure in medicine. It’s an honor to learn from you.” “Don’t worry, we’ll report this to the director. We’ll make sure you get an award for this.” I touched my stomach, a bitter twitch at my lips. It didn’t matter anymore. This child… I wasn’t going to keep it. They helped me back to the break room. Before I even got inside, I saw Daniel, his face contorted in a snarl, his fists clenched, storming towards me. Before anyone could react, he kicked me hard in the stomach. “You’re the one, you quack! You killed my child!” “I knew the doctors here were useless! You can’t even handle a simple case!” His shout drew a crowd in the hallway. Daniel pointed at me on the floor and roared. “My wife was fine when she went in, and when she came out, the baby was gone!” “This doctor just thought the money I offered wasn’t enough. Five thousand dollars! A whole five thousand, and she thought it was too little! She threw the card on the floor!” “Everyone, be the judge! We can’t let this murderer get away with it!” The kick felt like a bolt of lightning. I collapsed to the floor, shaking uncontrollably. The other doctors, finally reacting, rushed to restrain him. But Daniel was like a ravenous beast. He shoved them aside and dragged me to a corner. “You tell me! Why did you give up on saving my child? It took me so long to have this child, and now, because of a vicious doctor like you, it’s gone!” “You small-time clinics should all be shut down! You can’t even save a baby!” “If I had known you were all so useless, I would have gone to the provincial hospital!” He vented his rage hysterically. And under his rough handling, I lost consciousness. Daniel was still not done. He took out his phone and reached to pull the mask from my face. “I’m going to expose you online! I’ll let everyone see what a butcher you are.” He ripped off my mask, still ranting. “Hmph, don’t be shy. Let everyone see your face!” He got closer, grabbing my hair, the camera lens fixed on my face. The moment he saw who I was, he froze completely, stumbling back several steps in disbelief. “How can it be you? … You, what are you doing here?”

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The year I came of age, fate led me to buy the fallen Seventh Prince Valerius at a market. His sweet words left me with child—yet when he took the throne, no royal carriage came. Only a decree condemning my family to death. I went to him, heavy with child, begging mercy. Instead, he forced me to drink crimson petals as I watched my parents executed. Lord General Kaelan saved me, trading his military honors. “I’ve loved you from afar,” he swore. “Marry me, and I’ll cherish only you.” I believed him. Three years later, pregnant again, I overheard his confession: “She has Lirael’s eyes… No regrets, though I’m the one who urged the king to slaughter her family.” Loving the prince was my first sin. Loving Kaelan—the man who destroyed me twice—was unforgivable. 1 “If she was clever enough to seduce the Seventh Prince and carry his heir, she is no simple woman. Lirael’s heart is too pure. If Karen entered the court with a royal son, how could Lirael possibly contend with her?” “I could not let Lirael stand in harm’s way.” “But walls have ears, my lord. Sooner or later, Karen will—” “She will not,” Kaelan cut his friend off, his voice as cold as iron. “Karen will never know. I will not allow it.” “And I will spend a lifetime of devotion and fortune to make it up to her.” I bit down hard on my lip, my hand clamped over my mouth as I backed away with the dinner tray, silent as a ghost. Once inside my chambers, the door barred, I released my hand. Blood mingled with the tears that streamed down my face. When the King, Valerius, had ordered my parents’ execution, he forced me to watch. The horror made me swoon, and I collapsed into darkness. It was Kaelan who traded his loyalty and the entirety of his war honors to beg for my life. When I awoke, he held me, his voice choked with self-reproach. “The King cannot bear the memory of such a… tarnished past. Forgive me. I was useless. I could only save you.” All these years, he has openly defied the King. I thought it was because he loved me, that he was avenging me. I was so grateful, my gratitude blossoming into love. I never imagined he was the architect of my family’s doom. Thinking back, every time Kaelan had challenged the King, it had been because His Majesty had favored another court lady, neglecting Queen Lirael. Kaelan was simply fighting for the woman he truly loved. I was allowed to live only because of a passing resemblance to her. The thought of it all was like a dagger twisting in my heart. “Karen,” a voice called from the door. “The servants said you missed supper. Are you unwell?” “No… it’s nothing. I’m tired. I wish to sleep.” The door opened. I scrambled to wipe my tears and turned my back to him, but my hoarse, choked voice had already betrayed me. Kaelan’s hands were firm as he turned me to face him. The moment he saw my face, his brow furrowed. His thumb gently brushed away a tear as he spoke, his voice soft but laced with a suppressed fury. “Karen, did someone hurt you? Tell me who, and I will make them pay. Don’t cry. Every tear you shed breaks my heart.” Was it my heart he cared for? Or was he seeing Queen Lirael’s through my borrowed features? I shook my head. “You are the Lord General. Who would dare bully me? It is only… in three days, it will be the anniversary of my parents’ death. Thinking of them brings me sorrow.” Kaelan paused for a moment, his expression shifting to one of feigned grief. “Ah. It is my failing. I fear I may never be able to avenge you in this lifetime.” “It doesn’t matter. But the Autumn Moon banquet at the palace in three days… I will not accompany you. I wish to visit my parents’ graves.” The King murdered my family; I could not have my revenge. Now, discovering the true culprit was the Lord General, I still could not have my revenge. I was forced to play this charade with him, a constant betrayal to my parents’ memory. “Of course. It is not an important banquet. I will go with you. If we could have a child, I am sure it would bring comfort to your parents’ spirits in the heavens.” An involuntary shiver ran through me. After that draught of crimson petals, the royal physicians had said I would be barren. This child was a miracle from the gods themselves. I could not, would not, gamble my child’s life on the sliver of hope that Kaelan felt any true affection for me. “What is it?” Kaelan’s senses were sharp. He noticed my reaction instantly. “Karen, your monthly courses have been absent for some time. Could you be with child?” His tone was hopeful, but his eyes were filled with a wary, calculating light. I forced a brittle smile. “I wish it were so. But you know… I can never conceive again.” He handed me a small, ornate box. Inside lay a single, luminous white flower. A Silverwood Bloom. “Forgive my thoughtless words. Look, the Silverwood Bloom. I know you like it, and I had it specially sought out for you. Are you pleased?” Every autumn, a cough would plague me. I’d once heard that a tea made from this rare bloom was the best remedy. I had mentioned it only once, in passing, but Kaelan had remembered and sent men to the frozen peaks to find it for me. This time, however, I felt none of the usual joy or gratitude. I had once mistaken this for love. But it was only compensation for the slaughter of my family. I took the box and set it aside, my expression flat. “Thank you, my lord.” Seeing none of the delight he expected, Kaelan seemed disappointed but didn’t press the matter. “You are too frail to miss meals. I have had the servants prepare a new table of all your favorite dishes. Tonight, your husband will serve you.” Later that night, as I lay in bed, a tall shadow leaned over me from behind. “Lira… Karen…” Kaelan murmured my name—or hers—his hot breath ghosting across my neck, his fingers deftly unfastening the clasps of my nightgown. I once thought he was calling for me. Now I knew he was calling for the woman who truly held his heart, Queen Lirael. I suppressed the agony in my chest and pressed his hand, stopping its downward trail. “Another time. I am tired.” But he was insistent, his hand slipping beneath my chemise. “Karen, do you not want me? It has been nearly a month since we were last together.” My eyes snapped open. “Is it because the woman you love is now a queen that you seek solace in the arms of her substitute, my lord?” Kaelan froze, his voice suddenly sharp with alarm. “What are you talking about?” 2 I shielded my belly with my arm. “It’s nothing, my lord. Let us sleep.” “Pay no mind to the gossip you hear outside these walls,” he said, his voice tight. “You are the only lady of this house. There is no substitute.” “I swore to you, for all my life, you and you alone! What is this madness that has seized you tonight?” His voice rose, though I could not tell if he was trying to convince me or himself. I closed my eyes and said nothing. Kaelan, his interest lost, rose and moved to the chaise lounge across the room. After that night, he began to give me the silent treatment. Three days passed, and he did not set foot in my chambers. My maid, Bria, was worried. “My lady, why not tell the General of your pregnancy? With a child, he would surely not bear to be angry with you.” I took Bria’s hand. “Bria, I once saved you from being sold to a brothel by slavers. You said you would repay me.” “I am asking you now. This matter, whatever happens, you must not reveal it to the General or anyone else.” Given my condition, this child was a miracle. If I lost it, a second miracle would not come. Bria knelt, her eyes resolute. “Bria swore to serve you until death, my lady. My lips are sealed.” … On the day I was to visit my parents’ graves, the carriage, halfway to its destination, suddenly turned around. I drew back the curtain to see Kaelan blocking the road, his expression one of weary resignation. “Alright, I was wrong, Karen. Please, don’t be angry anymore.” “What is it you require, my lord?” Seeing that I was not yielding, that I had reverted to the formal title, Kaelan’s face hardened in disbelief. When we had first married, I had always called him ‘Lord General.’ It was he who had coaxed me, time and again, to finally call him by his name, to call him my husband. My use of his title now was a clear sign I would not forgive him. “Karen, it was just the idle whispers of common folk, meant to drive a wedge between us! I have already admitted my fault! If you continue to cling to this, and word reaches the palace, how is the Queen to feel?” So, it was for Lirael again. A sharp pain lanced through my heart. I lowered my lashes to hide my expression. “What is it you require, my lord?” At that, Kaelan lost his patience. “The Queen has suffered a miscarriage and is lost in grief. Today is the Autumn Moon banquet. You will accompany me to the palace and comfort Her Majesty.” The King’s favor was a fleeting thing. Even Lirael, once the shining moon of his desires, had now become common as bread. Her child had been lost to the scheming of a favored concubine, and the King had done nothing. Kaelan, unaware of my own pregnancy, now wanted to use my barrenness—my pain—to soothe Lirael. But it was Lirael herself who had forced the poison down my throat. Even after hearing of his devotion to her, I never imagined he could be so cruelly absurd. I clutched my stomach, refusing to go, my heart set on visiting my parents’ graves. But Kaelan accused me of being insensible. “Your parents are dead! How can the affairs of the dead be more important than the living? Besides, they were commoners. The business of the Crown is what truly matters!” Ignoring my wishes, he ordered the driver to turn the carriage around and galloped toward the palace, not forgetting to toss a few placating words my way. “After the banquet, I will come back with you to pay respects to your parents.” I was powerless to stop him. The carriage swayed and jolted. By the time we arrived at the palace, I stumbled out and could not help but retch a few times. “The carriage was a little fast, that’s all. Why are you so delicate? Hurry now, we mustn’t keep the Queen waiting.” Kaelan’s thoughts were already with Lirael. He urged me on impatiently. My face was pale, my body trembling with discomfort. Leaning on Bria, I forced myself through the palace gates. The banquet was split in two, the Queen and the ladies of the court on one side, the King and his lords on the other. The dishes were exquisite, and at the forefront was a platter of golden-scale trout. “This trout was a gift from the Duke of the Southern Shires. You must all try some,” the Queen announced. The fish before me was tender and succulent, but the smell was overwhelming. I retched again, unable to stop myself. Heads turned in my direction. “Lady Karen,” one of the ladies near me whispered, “could you be with child?” “Of course not,” I said, picking up a piece of fish to prove my point. But the scent hit me again, and I began to vomit uncontrollably. Now, everyone was staring. “Guards! Summon the royal physician for me!” the Queen commanded, her eyes boring into me. She muttered to herself, “Impossible! I poured the whole draught down your throat myself. How could you possibly be pregnant?” The physician arrived with terrifying speed. Before I could think of an escape, my pregnancy was exposed. I cursed my own frail body, unable to even conceal the sickness of early motherhood. “Why?” the Queen hissed, her gaze fixed venomously on my belly. “Why is my child gone, while you are allowed to have one?” “Lady Karen’s condition is a joyous occasion,” she said, her voice turning syrupy sweet. “Someone, bring that bowl of chilled crab soup and present it to Lady Karen as a gift.” 3 I couldn’t drink it. Even without a physician’s knowledge, I knew that cold-water crabs were chilling to the womb. To drink it would mean losing my child. Everyone else knew it too, but the Queen had spoken, and no one dared to intervene. Bria threw herself in front of me, a fragile shield against the inevitable. I was held down by several guards, their grips like iron, while a lady-in-waiting tried to pry my mouth open. “My lady is with child and her health is fragile! She cannot drink the soup! I beg Your Majesty, have mercy on my lady!” Bria pleaded, knocking her head against the stone floor until it bled. “Insolent slave! If you interfere again, you will be beaten to death,” the Queen declared. My strength was fading. Bria looked at me, her jaw set, and then with a sudden burst of strength, she broke free from her captors. She ran, screaming, to the other side of the feast, begging Lord Kaelan to save me. A procession of men strode over. Bria rushed to my side, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. The situation was clear to all. Before the King could even speak, Kaelan stepped forward, knelt, and shifted the blame onto me. “Your Majesty, the Queen is kind and generous. This soup, made from the roe of a dozen prized crabs, is a rare delicacy. To offer it was a sign of her great favor. It is Karen who is ungrateful and spurns the Queen’s kindness.” The King’s eyes were dark pools of ink. “Oh? Then in your opinion, Lord General, should Lady Karen drink this soup, or not?” Kaelan glanced at me, his face a mask of conflict. He hesitated, saying nothing. “No matter,” the Queen said with a sigh. “Lady Karen is with child now, a precious state. I have lost my own child and have no heir to comfort me. If my humble gift is to be wasted, then so be it.” “Karen,” Kaelan said, picking up the bowl. “You always loved crab. It is a gift from the Queen. You should at least have a taste.” He brought the bowl to my lips. “The soup is cold. If I drink it all, the child will be lost. Kaelan, this is your child too,” I pleaded, my voice breaking, each word a drop of blood from my heart. “You were not raised in fragile luxury,” he said, his voice low. “You are strong. And the palace physicians are the best in the land. A single bowl of soup will do no harm.” The slaughter of my family, the poisoned draught… my body was a ruin of its former self. Kaelan’s eyes were filled with guilt, but the spoon he held to my mouth was steady. I knew then that nothing I said would matter. The affection I thought we shared had evaporated like mist. I wiped away my useless tears, took the bowl, and drank every last drop. As I drank, I knew that everything was finally coming to an end.

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A patient with a paralysis no one in the country could cure. A surgery I flew two thousand miles to perform. I never imagined that on the day of his discharge, he would call in the media to publicly accuse me of accepting an illicit under-the-table fee. Though every procedure I followed was by the book, my superiors demoted me to quell the public outrage. As fate would have it, a year later, the same patient fell ill again. The exact same condition. And I was the only one in the country who could save him. 1 “Dr. Hayes, it’s time for your rounds.” At eight in the morning, Leo, the new intern, poked his head into my office, his voice trembling slightly with nerves. “Right,” I nodded, rising from my chair. In the hallway, a small group of seven or eight medical students fell in line behind me, a flock of ducklings ready for their morning lesson. We began our rounds. “How are we feeling today? Any headaches?” “Ma’am, please be mindful of his diet. Keep it light. No greasy or spicy foods.” “The post-op recovery is looking excellent. Just try to keep his spirits up.” I moved from room to room, my eyes scanning each patient, my voice a low, steady murmur of instructions to their families. “Dr. Hayes, my husband, he…” “Doctor, about my father…” “Dr. Hayes…” After leaving each room, a small crowd of anxious relatives would envelop me. Some wanted to know when the surgery would be scheduled, others when they could go home. Those were the normal questions. Then there were the more… imaginative ones. One family wanted to know if a major brain surgery might, by some chance, boost their loved one’s IQ. Through it all, I maintained a patient smile, answering every question with the gravity it deserved in their eyes. An hour and a half later, rounds were finished. I returned to my office to tackle the mountain of patient charts. At ten, a departmental meeting. Ten-thirty, back to the charts. Eleven-forty, a quick lunch in the hospital cafeteria. Noon, a brief rest. At two, I was on call, a ghost flitting between wards as needed. Five-thirty, clock out. This was my life now. A strange cocktail of tranquil routine and sudden bursts of chaos, each day a near-perfect echo of the last. “A legend like Dr. Hayes, reduced to this. Life’s a real kick in the teeth, isn’t it?” “You’re telling me. Makes me question why I even chose this profession.” “I heard what happened to him. It’s a raw deal. Isn’t a guest surgeon’s fee standard practice? How did it become a crime when it was him?” “You’re underestimating the poison in people’s hearts. When they need you, you’re a god. The second they’re healed, they want you to worship them.” “Honestly, the man’s a saint. If it were me, I would’ve told them all to go to hell and walked out long ago.” “Uh… sorry, I’m new here. What exactly happened with Dr. Hayes?” “Okay, so get this. A year ago, he…” My office door was ajar. The interns, with nothing better to do, were gossiping in the hallway. “Do you all have nothing better to do?” I stepped out, my voice low but sharp enough to cut through their chatter. “Are you here to learn, or to trade gossip?” Their conversation choked and died. “You two, go to the wards and log the patients’ meal and output times. You three, head down to the nurses’ station and help them verify the afternoon medication dosages. Double-check everything. It has to be perfect.” The interns stared at me for a frozen moment, then scattered like startled birds, vanishing down the corridor. “Kids these days,” I muttered, shaking my head with a reluctant smile. I remembered my own internship. If we’d been caught loitering in the halls, our attending would have flayed us with words until we couldn’t lift our heads. I was gathering my notes for the department meeting when the phone on my desk shrilled to life. “Dr. Hayes, we need you in the outpatient clinic. Now.” 2 I dropped my notebook and hurried towards the outpatient building. My name is Aidan Hayes. I’m a doctor at St. Jude’s University Hospital, one of the top-tier teaching hospitals in the country. A year ago, I was the Chief of Neurosurgery. But one surgery, one single procedure, got me demoted. Now, I was just an attending physician in the inpatient department. My days consisted of rounds, mentoring interns, and paperwork. I hadn’t been cleared for the operating room in a year. I was born into medicine. My mother worked for the Department of Health, my father was an internist. Growing up in that environment, becoming a doctor felt less like a choice and more like a calling. At eighteen, I was accepted into the nation’s most prestigious medical school, blazing through my M.D. and Ph.D. programs. My mentor was Dr. Arthur Vance, a titan in the world of neurosurgery. Under his guidance, I dedicated my life to the craft. By thirty-five, I was Chief of Neurosurgery, a recipient of a national distinguished physician grant, an expert in my field. My specialty was high-risk intracranial nerve surgery. They called me “The Razor.” No matter how complex the case, if a patient made it to my table, they were already halfway to recovery. I had personally operated on thousands, published dozens of papers in world-renowned journals like the NEJM, The Lancet, and JAMA. I thought my path was set, a smooth, upward trajectory. Then, one case sent my entire world crashing down. A year ago, a hospital clear across the country sent me a formal request. They needed me to lead a highly specialized surgery. The patient was twenty-six years old. Damage to an intracranial nerve had left one side of his body numb. He’d been to a dozen hospitals, but his condition had only worsened, deteriorating from numbness to full-blown hemiplegia—paralysis. If nothing was done, he’d be in a wheelchair within six months. Worst-case scenario, the condition could trigger other complications and threaten his life. The top hospitals all recommended the same thing: surgery. But this wasn’t a routine procedure. It was a targeted resection of a nerve deep within the brainstem, a surgery that few neurosurgeons on the planet were qualified to perform. One of his doctors suggested the family find a specialist to fly in. At the time, there were only three people in the world known to have mastered the technique. One was Dr. Jean-Pierre Philippe of the Mayo Clinic. Another was my mentor, Dr. Arthur Vance. The third was me. Dr. Philippe was a phantom, practically unreachable for a family with their limited resources. And my mentor, Dr. Vance, had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s three years prior. His hands trembled, making surgery impossible. That left one person in the country. Me. The patient’s family moved heaven and earth, coordinating with their hospital to send me the official invitation to perform the surgery as a guest surgeon. 3 Saving lives was the bedrock of my existence. I couldn’t refuse. After confirming the date, I cleared my schedule and flew two thousand miles to the patient’s city. Before the surgery, his mother pulled me aside. “Dr. Hayes, please, you have to save my son,” she wept, her voice cracking. “He’s only twenty-six. He’s not even married. His life has just begun…” Her knees buckled, and she started to sink to the floor. “Ma’am, please,” I said, catching her arm and holding it firmly. “I will do everything in my power to help your son. You have to have faith in him, and in us.” I walked into the operating room with her desperate pleas still ringing in my ears. The initial preparations were complete. The surgery began. The resident surgeon made the incision, drilled the burr holes, and carefully separated the dura mater from the skull. Everything proceeded like clockwork. My role was to step in once the surgical field was open, locate the lesion, and remove it. Peering through the surgical microscope, I quickly identified the problematic tissue in the motor cortex of his brain’s left hemisphere. With a single, precise movement, the neural blade excised the lesion. The entire process, my part in it, took less than a minute. “Hah,” I breathed out, a plume of fog in the cold air, and stepped back. The resident team took over for the cleanup and closure. The surgery lasted two and a half hours, but my contribution was a mere sixty seconds. A single minute that held the man’s entire future. “Doctor, my boy… how is he?” the mother asked, her face a mess of tear-streaked anxiety as I emerged. “The surgery was a complete success,” I said, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll do a full workup once the anesthesia wears off, but if everything looks clear, your son will be on the road to a full recovery.” “Thank you, thank you!” She burst into fresh tears, but this time, they were tears of relief. The post-op scans were exactly as I’d hoped—perfect. Within two to three weeks, he would slowly regain his mobility and begin to live a normal life again. I’d performed a thousand surgeries like this. Every time I saw that mask of terror on a family’s face melt away into joy, I felt a deep, quiet satisfaction. This was the job. To heal a patient, to save a life, to rescue a family. 4 I politely declined the hospital’s dinner invitation, gave the family a final list of post-op instructions, and headed for the airport to catch my flight home. Just before I powered off my phone, a notification popped up: a wire transfer of $10,000 had been deposited into my account. This was the guest surgeon’s fee. The host hospital knew about it. The patient’s family knew about it. The administrative board at my own hospital knew about it. It was all transparent, all by the book. I accepted it with a clear conscience. Back at St. Jude’s, work was a relentless tide. Three to four major surgeries a week were the norm. And though I was used to it, a part of me still ached every time I saw a new patient on the table. May the medicine on the shelf gather dust, and may the world know no disease. When would that dream become reality? Nearly a month passed. I had just finished a departmental meeting when Director Evans called me to his office. Director Evans, Chief Administrator Miller, and the Head of Medical Affairs, Mr. Coleman, were all sitting grimly around the conference table. “Director Evans? You wanted to see me?” I asked, nodding a polite greeting to the others. “Aidan. Have a seat,” he said, his tone heavy. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. The air in the room was thick with unspoken trouble. “Aidan, I need you to watch this,” Miller said after a moment, turning his laptop toward me. It was a news clip, filmed in a hospital room. A young man in a patient’s gown sat on the edge of his bed. “My name is Caleb Thorne,” he began. “I’m twenty-six. Six months ago, nerve damage in my brain left the right side of my body paralyzed.” He spoke slowly, his voice earnest. “For half a year, my mom took me from doctor to doctor. They found the problem, but no one could fix it. My case was… unique. It required a specific kind of intracranial nerve surgery, and none of the hospitals we went to had a surgeon who could do it.” He paused, looking directly into the camera. “Then we heard about Dr. Aidan Hayes, the Chief of Neurosurgery at St. Jude’s. My mom and the hospital worked together to get him to fly here and operate on me.” “The surgery was a success,” he continued, his voice taking on a harder edge. “I’m recovering now. But I’m not happy.” “To pay for my treatment, my mother has wiped out her life savings. She’s deep in debt. We had to sell our family home just to cover the $150,000 hospital bill.” “You in the media, you claim to be a voice for the people, right? Well, today, right here, on camera, I want to file a report. A public accusation.” He was still frail from the surgery, but a raw, furious energy began to radiate from him. He mentioned my name, and a cold recognition washed over me. This was the patient from the cross-country surgery. The one I had saved.

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I’d been with my husband, Jason, from when he had nothing to when he made it big. Then, he turned around and latched onto some rich heiress. He said, “Tiffany Sterling is the only daughter of Sterling Corp’s chairman. She’s gorgeous and capable. That’s the kind of woman who deserves me!” “You? A washed-up nobody from the sticks, no money, no connections. Wasting my life with you is pointless. Let’s get a divorce.” My mother-in-law, Sarah, finished her call, wrapped her old flip phone in a red plastic grocery bag, and asked me, “Are you sure about this?” “Yes,” I nodded. Sarah nodded back. “Then let’s do it! You give Jason the savings, let him use it for my care in old age. The rest is yours. From now on, don’t call me Mom. Mia is my only daughter now.” I was stunned by her decision. After all, Jason was her blood son. Jason was equally shocked. He met my gaze for a second, then immediately looked away in disgust. “Are you sure about this, Mom? You’re really disowning me?” I heard a faint trace of hope in Jason’s tone, which infuriated me. Now that he was climbing the social ladder, going from a country boy to a city slicker, it was one thing to look down on me, his cheap wife. But now he was even ready to abandon the mother who raised him? He was less than human. Sarah sighed deeply, having long seen through Jason’s petty thoughts. “It’s my fault, son. I couldn’t give you a privileged life, and I raised you to be vain and ungrateful!” “Miss Sterling is a city girl. I won’t go over and cause you trouble. When she asks, just say you’re an orphan. Wouldn’t want to mess up your social climbing.” Sarah shot Jason a cold glance, then grabbed my hand, rubbing it gently. “Mia here has a good heart. She wouldn’t abandon me. I’ll be secure living with her from now on.” My eyes welled up. I knew Sarah was doing this for me. I had no parents; I was raised by the kindness of our community. After meeting Jason, I made him my whole world, giving up my friends back home to move with him to a strange city to build a life. I’d poured everything into our relationship, and in the end, I lost it all, while he walked away scott-free. A wave of sorrow washed over me. I’d felt so alone, but now, having Sarah to care for, I had to pull myself together. Jason lowered his head as if a sliver of conscience had pricked him, but he quickly looked up again, urging me, “It’s still early. Let’s go get the divorce papers now.” He really couldn’t wait. I looked down, my fingers twisting together, feeling a profound sense of helplessness. A pair of warm, strong hands enveloped mine. I looked up to see Sarah’s unrestrained smile. “Let’s go.” Maybe it was just me, but it seemed like Sarah was happier about the divorce than I was. She held my hand throughout the entire process, even telling me where to sign when I was dazed. The moment I got the divorce certificate, it was like I’d just snapped back to reality. Suddenly, I wanted to cry. Ten years. How many ten-year periods does a person get in a lifetime? Jason grabbed his divorce certificate, cheerfully told us to move out by tomorrow, and then vanished. Sarah and I took a cab back. I was a bundle of nerves, but she seemed perfectly at ease. Once home, I pulled out the cheap, woven duffel bag hidden at the bottom of the closet and started stuffing my faded, worn-out clothes into it. Sarah saw this, snatched the clothes, and threw them into the trash can. “We’re not taking these.” She then pulled me out the door. When I saw the luxury RV parked at the curb, I froze. Sarah just smiled and said, “Hop in!” 2 After being pulled onto the RV, everything inside looked like it was trimmed with gold; it was breathtakingly extravagant. I nervously shifted my weight from one foot to the other, my faded old clothes making me feel completely out of place. Sarah, however, sighed and sat down with an air of reluctance. I opened my mouth to ask, but just then, a man who looked like a butler emerged pushing a cart. A mountain of items was presented to Sarah – designer clothes, bags, jewelry, and more. She picked them up, casually looked them over, and then put them down. “Madam, are these arrangements to your satisfaction?” Sarah glanced at him. “They’re… adequate.” My eyes nearly popped out of my head. I didn’t know the exact prices, but I’d seen these brand logos on Jason’s clothes. Socks from these brands cost hundreds of dollars! And this was just “adequate”? “Mom, this is…” Before I could finish, Sarah swept all those things onto the floor with a clatter. “Bring out the food.” At her word, the butler respectfully served us what looked like a royal banquet. My jaw dropped. I looked at Sarah, bewildered. She just picked up a piece of steak and put it in my mouth. “Eat first. We’ll talk after you’ve eaten.” As I gently chewed, rich juices exploded in my mouth. The meat was tender yet had a satisfying, slightly gelatinous texture from the connective tissue, deeply savory and smooth. It was delicious, yet tears streamed down my face. This was the first time I’d ever eaten anything so good. Back when Jason and I were starting our business, surviving on plain instant ramen was a regular occurrence. Later, when the company started doing well, he’d curb my spending, citing cost-saving measures. To date, the best meal he’d ever taken me out for was from a cheap street food stall. Ten years of devotion, worth only a greasy takeout meal. Thinking about it, the beef suddenly felt scalding hot, making my tears fall even faster. Seeing me cry, Sarah frowned and scolded the butler, “What did you prepare? It’s so bad it made her cry.” The butler scratched his head, looking completely innocent. “Mia, don’t cry. If it’s bad, we won’t eat it.” I shook my head, wiping my tears. “Mom, it’s delicious. Thank you for preparing such amazing food for me.” I’d cried into my food before, but this time, it was with a feeling of overwhelming happiness. Looking at the empty plates on the table, I let out a small burp and smiled awkwardly at Sarah. “Mom, I’m sorry, I ate too much…” But if I didn’t eat my fill this time, I didn’t know if I’d ever get another chance to taste such delicacies. Sarah picked up a napkin and gently wiped my mouth. “It’s okay. Eat as much as you want.” “You don’t need to hold back in front of Mom.” “Come on, next stop.” I asked, puzzled, “Next stop? What do you mean?” “You’ll find out tonight. Just trust Mom and let me take care of you.” Just then, the RV stopped. A line of people stood at the entrance of a high-end spa. When they saw Sarah and me, they all bowed in unison. “Good afternoon, Madam!” “Mom, this is…” The questions were piling up in my mind: the luxury RV, the butler, this spa. Who exactly was my mother-in-law? I knew Sarah worked with a dance troupe that toured nationally. When she was busy, she was completely elusive; when she was free, she’d spend half a month lounging at home, not moving a muscle. But even that couldn’t explain this level of spending, could it? Sarah didn’t answer my question, instead leading me to the most luxurious private suite on the top floor. I was attended to, my clothes were changed, and I was gently pressed onto a bed. Facial cleansing, exfoliation, a mask – the whole process was meticulously orchestrated. Cold instruments glided over my face, removing impurities and then infusing new, beneficial serums. My dull, heavy skin began to feel light and firm. I savored the sensation, realizing this is what it felt like to be pampered. After the beauty treatment, a mirror was held up in front of me. The person in it had skin like porcelain and delicate features, like someone who had stepped out of an oil painting. She was so unfamiliar that I gasped. This didn’t look like me, but it truly was… I took the mirror and stared for a long time before I got used to this “me.” Just then, my phone rang. It was Jason. 3 “Are you dead? I’ve called you so many times, and you don’t pick up!” His angry roar pierced my eardrums, startling me so much I sat bolt upright. The mirror slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor, reflecting countless images of me. I felt dazed, as if I’d been jolted from a dream back to reality. “I… I was at a spa…” “A spa?” “Is this how you waste my hard-earned money? You leech, living off me for every little thing, a complete dead weight! I must have been blind to marry such a useless woman.” “Other women are considerate and supportive, they care about their husbands. You? You’d practically give my money away! You shameless money pit, all you know how to do is spend, spend, spend!” The cells on my face suddenly felt heavy, suffocating. Guilt washed over me, making my face flush. I’d only spent a little more money today than usual. The silence on the phone stretched time, a common pressure tactic Jason used. After a long pause, he continued, “Transfer five million over. Tiffany saw a bag she likes.” His tone softened, as if offering me an olive branch. But I didn’t scramble to grab it like I used to. Instead, I laughed. Previously, when I wanted to spend ten bucks on a new grocery bag, he’d reamed me out. And now, a five-million-dollar bag for Tiffany? He didn’t hesitate. It was pretty funny, actually. During my silence, Jason started yelling again, “Speak up! Are you mute?” Just as I was about to open my mouth, Sarah snatched the phone from me and snapped, “Chasing a woman and you still need to get money from your ex-wife? Does that Tiffany girl know you’re such a shameless moocher?” “You and Mia are divorced. The savings are her personal property. Is this how you ask for help?” “Get lost, and don’t call again.” Sarah hung up, then turned and hugged me tenderly. “Mia, sweetie, don’t cry. He’s not good enough for you.” “Congratulations on your freedom. On to the next stop!” I laughed through my tears, my mood lifting under Sarah’s comfort as she led me to the next destination. Dressed in a custom-made evening gown, my hair and makeup perfectly done, I stood before a floor-length mirror, staring for a long time. Sarah then took me to the seaside and onto a yacht. A party was in full swing on board. Upbeat dance music filled the air, with a dance floor in the center. Waiters carrying trays of drinks weaved through the crowd. Everyone here exuded wealth and status. I clutched Sarah’s hand tightly, so nervous I nearly tripped over my own feet. I wanted to hide in a corner, but Sarah led me through the crowd and onto a stage. The music stopped abruptly. The dancers paused, all turning to look at us. Just then, a group of handsome young men, each with a different style, emerged from somewhere. Every one of them had legs for days and chiseled features like statues. Any one of them could have been a A-list celebrity. I recognized most of their faces from TV; they were either industry tycoons or heirs to fortunes. Now, they stood before me in the flesh, striking subtle poses. Their well-fitted clothes encased muscular physiques while perfectly outlining their forms. Sensing my gaze, one of them even theatrically ripped open his shirt, inviting me to look my fill. I blushed instantly and quickly averted my eyes. Sarah, however, remained calm, even looking slightly unimpressed. The next second, they all bowed in unison, addressing Sarah as “Auntie.” “Good evening, Auntie Ray!” They called Sarah… Auntie Ray? My jaw dropped in astonishment. What exactly did Sarah do? How could she command such respect from major players across various industries?! 4 But no matter how much I asked, Sarah would just wave her hand dismissively, looking unwilling to elaborate, and then pulled me in front of her. “This was all a bit rushed. Their looks are just… average.” Sarah looked at me apologetically. “For now, just let them keep you company and have some fun.” “If they dare to upset you, just tell Mom.” Average looks? Just let them? I understood each word Sarah said, but strung together, they made no sense. Before I could react, I was surrounded by them, each vying to dance with me, feed me snacks, or give me a massage. I wanted to refuse, but they pleaded with me not to make things difficult for them, so I had no choice but to accept. Their behavior grew bolder; they even started doing a striptease around me. Their hot skin made my face burn. I stood there, flustered and surrounded, not knowing where to look. This extravagant lifestyle continued for over half a month. One day, I was sunbathing on the deck and idly scrolled through my social media, where I saw Jason’s latest post. It was a picture of him and Tiffany having a candlelit dinner, a new designer bag prominently displayed on the table. The caption read: “Happy wife, happy life, and a prosperous future.” Even before Jason and I divorced, he used to post pictures of Tiffany. He never bothered to block me because he knew my protests were futile. Previously, I would have been heartbroken. Now, I just liked the post and scrolled on, feeling fabulous. I never expected Jason’s message to pop up the next second. “Five million is just pocket money for me. Did you really think I couldn’t afford it without you?” I rolled my eyes. He really knew how to jump to conclusions. Before I could reply, Jason’s second message came through: “Alright, you’re just jealous, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll toss you one of my wife’s cast-offs later, as charity.” I ignored his barking and put my phone aside. Messages from Jason kept flooding in on my phone. I opened my mouth and pointed, “Ah!” The next second, a handsome young man happily ran over and popped a grape into my mouth. “Here, beautiful, this one’s sweet. Let me feed you!” After eating the grape, I was playfully tackled by the young stud. He looked innocent, but he was incredibly energetic. After the cruise ended, Sarah said she’d introduce me to a job. Given my recent experiences, I’d already braced myself, but when I saw the words “Global Conglomerate” on the building, I still couldn’t control my expression. A global conglomerate… A corporation that had dominated various industries worldwide in just five years, known for being a powerhouse that could pull any string! Sarah actually had connections with this conglomerate? As I stood there, stunned, I turned and saw Jason and Tiffany. When Jason saw me, the astonishment in his eyes was undeniable. It made sense. The old me was plain and frumpy, as thin and malnourished as a monkey. The new me had skin that glowed, wore a designer suit with my hair in a high ponytail – enough to blind his sorry eyes. Jason stared for a long moment. Tiffany stomped hard on his foot, and he snapped back to reality with a wince. Tiffany shot me a jealous glance, then put on airs and ignored me. After recovering, Jason asked me, “What are you doing here?” I smiled faintly. “We’re divorced, yet you’re still so concerned about me. Aren’t you afraid your current wife will misunderstand?” Jason almost lost his composure, his eyes darting around. Then, he lifted his chin proudly. “I’m just kindly reminding you, this is a global conglomerate. Not just any Tom, Dick, or Harry can walk in.” He wrapped his arm around Tiffany’s waist, clearly trying to provoke me. “There are standards for getting into a global conglomerate. I’m here to discuss a partnership, all thanks to my dear wife pulling strings for me.” “Unlike some people who overestimate themselves and just end up making a fool of themselves.” Sarah seemed oblivious to his snide remarks, slapping her thigh. “Well, what a coincidence! We’re also here to discuss a partnership. The chairman of this company said he values our Mia’s abilities and wants to make her a general manager!” Hearing this, Tiffany glanced at me as if she’d heard the world’s biggest joke, struggling to suppress her laughter. Jason, however, laughed out loud without restraint, then pointed a finger at me. “Mia Evans, I thought our separation would make you realize your mistakes. I didn’t expect you to still be a lost cause.” “Initially, I was moved by your simple appearance, but later I discovered you’re an arrogant and conceited person.” “Take my advice: be down-to-earth and work hard. Fantasizing about landing a sugar daddy here will get you chewed up and spat out.” His numerous interpretations and readings of me didn’t constitute a millionth of who I was; instead, they laid him bare. An ungrateful hypocrite. He had probably long forgotten that I graduated from a top university and that I was the one who had built up his company. He reaped the benefits and took all the credit. If we were talking about arrogance, who would dare claim second place if he was first? Just then, someone in the crowd suddenly shouted, “The Chairman is here! Make way!” Turning to look, the disorderly crowd parted to either side. A middle-aged man in a custom-tailored black suit walked towards us, his expression stern. He looked in our direction, his pace quickening, appearing somewhat flustered. I withdrew my gaze and looked at Sarah beside me, only then noticing that her face had darkened during Jason and Tiffany’s tirade. Jason, however, thought the Chairman was coming for them and became even more smug. Tiffany crossed her arms. “Chairman Harrison is here. Weren’t you going to apply for the general manager position? Why are you just standing there?” “Such an act. No wonder Jason said you’re two-faced and couldn’t live with you.” I listened to her words without reacting. What I was really like, how I was doing – I didn’t owe them any explanation. I just didn’t expect Jason to suddenly push Sarah and me to the ground. My palms and knees scraped, and Sarah sucked in a sharp breath, her brow furrowed in pain. Jason straightened his clothes, looking down at me condescendingly. “Good dogs don’t block the way. Don’t stand between me and my meeting with the Chairman.” The two of them swaggered past us, bowing to the approaching Mr. Harrison. “Chairman Harrison, you really didn’t have to come down to greet me personally. I can make my own way up…” However, Chairman Harrison didn’t even glance at him. With a solemn expression, he bowed slightly, as if meeting a very important person, and extended his hand to Sarah: “Chairman Lei, we’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival! Please, come in!”

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