Category: English

Everyone thought I’d lost my mind—my husband just died, and I burned down the factory we’d built together. But they didn’t know that a week ago, I caught my supposedly dead husband embracing his first love, smugly plotting: “The marriage certificate between me and that stupid woman is fake. Once I fake my death and she helps me pay off the debts, the factory will still be mine.” I stood behind a tree, my whole body ice-cold, yet I wanted to laugh. Turns out what I’d desperately protected all these years was never really my home. Since he faked his death to escape, dumping all the debts on me, I didn’t mind adding fuel to the fire myself. This blaze would completely “burn” the old me to death, along with his factory, reducing everything to ash. Outside the villa’s ornate iron gate, I saw the man who should have died in the fire. He was carefully supporting Lucy, whose delicate face glowed above a belly swollen with six months of pregnancy. And I could clearly see—the gemstone bracelet on Lucy’s wrist and the gold earrings dangling from her ears were the dowry my parents had specially made for me. Years ago, when I first took over factory management, Harrison had gently persuaded me: “Jewelry gets in the way when you’re working. It’d hurt if you bumped it.” I’d believed him and locked all my jewelry in an iron box, never imagining he’d secretly taken them out and given them to his childhood sweetheart. This was the devoted husband who’d promised to take care of me for life. He tightened his arm around Lucy’s waist, his voice sticky-sweet like melted candy: “Haha, Lucy, don’t worry. The factory’s buried in a million dollars of debt right now. Once that stupid woman fills the hole, Edith will call us right back.” “The factory manager position is mine. Then our little family of three…” Lucy stroked her swollen belly, asking coquettishly: “But Vivian is so capable. After she pays off all the debt by herself, will she really give the factory back to you?” Harrison laughed. “That factory was left to me by my dad. She’s just an ‘outsider’.” “I’ll tell you a secret, but keep it quiet—Vivian and I never actually got our marriage license. My mom had someone forge the certificate years ago. She still has no idea…” I trembled with rage, my teeth grinding audibly. A week ago, when I discovered the missing funds in our accounts, I confronted Harrison. Knowing he was exposed, he knelt and begged for forgiveness, claiming his failed investments were all “for our home.” He grabbed my pant leg, pleading with me to get money from my family to save us. But a million dollars was an astronomical sum. Even draining my parents dry wouldn’t cover it. I refused to drag my family down, but softened at his seemingly remorseful expression and agreed to shoulder the debt together. Now I could see—the moment he realized we’d have to suffer and repay together, he’d already planned this fake death to slip away, leaving me holding the entire mess. This man was utterly vicious. “Vivian, Harrison? He’s not dead?” Grace, my trusted confidant who’d accompanied me, had stopped at the station to get a cup of coffeeand arrived a few steps behind. Seeing this scene, she immediately flared up with anger. “He found a mistress and deliberately wants you to handle the factory’s debts alone.” I quickly pulled her behind a sycamore tree to hide. Grace asked, confused: “Vivian, Harrison wronged you. He’s the one who should be hiding. Why are we hiding?” I’d already calmed down. I looked at Grace and asked: “Grace, all these years, how do you think I’ve treated Harrison?” Though Grace didn’t understand why I was suddenly asking this, she answered honestly: “Vivian, you’ve been incredible for the factory. You handled so many things personally. Without those contracts you negotiated, our factory would have collapsed long ago.” “Harrison… when problems hit the factory, he pretended to be sick and hid. When you were running a fever negotiating contracts, he was drinking at the card table. If you hadn’t mortgaged your own dowry, how could their family property and land still be intact?” I smiled bitterly. “Harrison inherited the family business but couldn’t preserve its foundation. You can see that truth clearly. Too bad he’s willfully blind.” “Vivian, Harrison is living it up in that villa with his mistress while leaving you to shoulder all that debt. You should divorce him.” I laughed coldly. We never even got a marriage license—what divorce? “Does he think I’ll still stupidly exhaust everything to protect the family assets for him like before? Haha…” “Since Harrison chose to fake his death, I’ll grant him his wish.” My lips curved upward, the flames of anger burning away my grief. Since Harrison dared to fake his death and enjoy himself, I could sever our marital bonds just as decisively. In this world, he wasn’t the only one who could fake a death.

“What does Vivian plan to do?” Grace gripped my hand, righteous indignation in her voice. “We absolutely can’t let those cheating dogs get away with this.” I naturally wouldn’t let them off easy, but this matter couldn’t be rushed. “Grace, don’t go back to the factory yet. I need you to spread word about Harrison building a villa in this town to keep his mistress. The more widely it spreads the better—ideally it should reach Edith’s ears today.” Since I was an outsider in Harrison’s mouth, I had no need to preserve the dignity of the old Harrison family. Fight with me? They weren’t qualified. Did Harrison think he could live carefree in that villa with his childhood sweetheart, raising their child? Then I’d reclaim the villa right now, leaving them without even a place to stay. As soon as I returned to the factory, Harrison’s mother, Edith, came looking for me. I secretly took a breath, suppressed my surging anger, and squeezed out a grieved expression to greet her. She grabbed my hand, her voice urgent yet soft: “Vivian, you can’t listen to outsiders’ gossip. Harrison was honest and straightforward—how could he mess around outside?” “He can’t even rest in peace after death.” I lowered my eyes, my nose tingling: “Mrs. Harrison, I naturally trust Harrison’s character… but did our family really buy a villa in the neighboring town?” Edith’s hand suddenly stiffened. She froze there, her eyes darting around rapidly before shaking her head like a rattle drum: “No, no. How could there be? Don’t talk nonsense.” Seeing her reaction, I understood completely. Earlier I’d heard Harrison smugly say that once I finished paying the debts, his mother would call him to “come home and enjoy the good life.” I’d thought perhaps the old lady just felt sorry for her son and knew nothing about his dirty deeds. But now… she clearly knew everything. Perfect. Since you mother and son colluded to treat me as an outsider and play me for a fool, don’t blame this outsider for showing no mercy. I helped Edith sit in a chair and had just poured half a glass of water when the debt collectors arrived exactly as I’d anticipated. The moment Edith saw them coming, she immediately tried to abandon me and flee. But the lead creditor grabbed her by the back of her collar at the door, yanking her stumbling back into the chair. She deliberately fell sideways, drawing out a wail of my name: “Vivian, they’re hitting people.” In the past, I would definitely have already stepped in front of Edith, taking everything upon myself. But now I just coldly watched Edith perform, then pretended to cry myself: “Gentlemen, my husband’s body is barely cold. What can we widows and orphans use to repay debts?” The lead creditor spat: “Cut the act. That villa in the neighboring town was Harrison’s doing, wasn’t it? It’s enough to cover the debt.” I hastily waved my hands: “Sir, I just asked my mother-in-law—there’s no such thing.” Then I turned to Edith for confirmation. “Edith, right?” Edith’s neck stiffened, her eyes darting wildly as she randomly nodded twice. With such a guilty appearance, how could the creditors not see through it? The leader slapped down a paper on the table: “The property owner’s name is yours, old lady Harrison.” Edith’s face turned white as a sheet as she stammered: “It’s… it’s my retirement savings house…” “Retirement house?” The creditor sneered, pulling out a mortgage agreement. “Sign. Use it to settle the debt right now.” Edith clutched her clothes and shrank back. That was her son’s love nest—how could she give it up? She stood and rushed to grab my arm: “Vivian, think of something. How will I survive without that house?” I sneered internally but looked distressed on the surface as I pried her hand away: “Mrs. Harrison, with Harrison gone, the old house is enough for us. This million in debt—we could work ourselves to death and never repay it…” Hearing this, the creditor erupted in fury, pressing Edith’s neck toward the table: “Your son’s dead so you think you can renege on debts? If you don’t sign today, I’ll chop off your hand and use it for your thumbprint.” Edith threw me a pleading look, which I ignored. She gritted her teeth and pretended to faint. The creditor laughed coldly and delivered a sharp slap. The crisp sound exploded. Edith jerked awake in pain, no longer daring to play tricks, trembling as she signed and stamped the document. Only then did the creditors swagger away. Edith’s rage attacked her heart, and she actually did faint. Grace happened to come by and urgently asked if we should send her to the clinic. I pulled my lips into a smile: “Where would we get extra money? Just send her back to the old house.” Grace immediately called a worker to fetch a cart and send Edith back, then looked at me worriedly: “Vivian, now that we’ve set a precedent of using property to settle debts, the other creditors will probably come knocking very soon.” I smiled. “I know.” Haha, I was afraid they wouldn’t come knocking. “Grace, go check how much inventory is still in our warehouse. Before nightfall, pack it all up and take it away. Remember—quietly, don’t let anyone else know.” Grace blinked her almond eyes and asked: “Vivian, where should we ship this packed inventory?” “New York.” I met her searching gaze. “What do you say? Do you dare venture out there with me?” Grace’s eyes lit up at these words: “As long as Vivian is willing to take me, I’ll go through fire and water.” I smiled and patted her head, then turned my sharp gaze toward the roiling dark clouds outside the window. A storm was coming. Harrison and his pampered childhood sweetheart would have nowhere to hide from the rain tonight. 4 Since the villa in the neighboring town was seized, debt collectors descended like a plague of locusts. I’d already settled the workers’ wages in advance and let them leave early. The creditors entered the factory unobstructed and quickly emptied it of machinery, equipment, tables and chairs. When there was nothing left to take from the factory, creditors set their sights on the old house. Edith was furious, demanding why I wasn’t finding solutions. “Vivian. Aren’t you supposed to be so capable?” So much for Edith’s act now. I covered my face and sobbed: “Edith, I’ve exhausted every option… at least most of the debt is cleared now.” Edith slammed the table in fury: “The machinery and equipment have all been taken—what is the Harrison family supposed to do in the future?” I lowered my eyes, deliberately adding fuel to the fire: “Edith, as long as we’re still here, there will always be a way.” Sure enough, the next second, Edith picked up a teacup and hurled it at me. I staggered back on cue, porcelain shards exploding near my ear. “You jinx. Why don’t you just die.” When the debt collectors entered, this was exactly the scene that greeted them. I laughed inwardly while tears streamed down my face: “Edith, don’t worry. I’ll go back to the factory right now and find a solution. I’ll definitely bring our factory back to life.” Without waiting for Edith’s response, I “stumbled” out clutching my forehead. Behind me, her cursing was cut off by the creditors’ rebuke: “Old woman, less talk. Hurry up and hand over assets to settle the debt.” I left the old house and ran into Grace returning. Before seeing Edith, I’d instructed Grace to do two things: First, using Edith’s name, demand my gemstone bracelet and gold earrings back from Lucy. Second, in Edith’s tone, send Harrison some money, telling them to “take the money and run far away to avoid the storm.” My dowry—why should it benefit Harrison. “Vivian, I got everything back.” I nodded. With this, everything was ready. I cried all the way back to the factory, then waited until evening when everyone should be eating dinner, and set a fire just like Harrison had done. However, Harrison had only burned a small warehouse at the time, while I ignited the entire factory.

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On a reality show, my sister and I both fell into the water. My husband, Holt, jumped into the water without a second thought to save my sister. He held her close with concern and urgency, leaving without looking back. I was left behind, nearly sinking to the bottom of the lake before the crew finally pulled me out. The next day, when I handed Holt the divorce papers, he glared at me darkly. “Lila can’t swim, so I saved her first. Are you seriously jealous over this?” I looked calmly into his eyes. “Yeah. Sign it.” Holt and I quietly obtained our divorce certificate. Holt kept his handsome brow furrowed, but at this point, it couldn’t stir even a fraction of emotion in me. He tucked the certificate into his pocket. “I’ll drive you.” I shook my head. “No need.” Holt seemed dissatisfied with my attitude. “Tessa, there’s no need to be like this. We’ve been together for three years, after all. Divorce doesn’t mean we have to act like strangers.” I was shocked for a second, barely believing these words could come from Holt’s mouth. After all, now that Lila had returned, he should be thrilled that I was smart enough to get out of their way. “Mr. Sterling, to me, divorce means divorce. We’re not family, and we can’t be friends either.” “You…” “Besides, we don’t have children. There’s no need to stay in touch.” My words angered Holt, and he turned and left. I watched his retreating figure and sighed helplessly. But when I thought about my bank account balance, all that unhappiness vanished in an instant. Although I was Tessa Grant of the Grant family, I hadn’t received any money from them. Instead, the divorce made me a small-time millionaire. There was no way I could get half of Sterling Corporation, so when I had the lawyer draft the divorce agreement, I only asked for twenty million dollars. Holt agreed, and he also gave me luxury properties in New York and Los Angeles, three domestic properties, and six apartments in prime downtown locations. This was enough to keep me comfortable for the rest of my life. Looking at these cold numbers, I suddenly couldn’t help but laugh out loud. How wonderful. I could finally start living for myself. After the divorce, in just one day, I moved into a penthouse apartment in the city center. Having it registered in my name gave me an unprecedented sense of security. I thought leaving Holt would be painful and devastating. After all, during our three-year marriage, I had loved him. But unexpectedly, that night I slept exceptionally well. The long-lost relaxation let me sleep until noon the next day.

Holt and I had a business marriage. Grandpa Sterling and Grandpa Grant were war buddies who, after surviving life and death together, arranged this match. But originally, this marriage was meant for Lila. The reason was simple—she was the rose the Grant family had raised for eighteen years. As for me, I was the Grant family’s biological daughter who had been switched at birth. Someone like me would never have had a chance to meet someone like Holt—a golden boy, an heir. Much less fall in love. Until I was eighteen, when the Grant parents found me, tearfully telling me I was their biological daughter, and that a nurse’s mistake at birth had caused our separation. At that time, I was living in an orphanage. When I saw my parents arrive in their luxury car, I thought my future days would be easier. At least I wouldn’t have to collect trash to sell for tuition money. The orphanage was poor, and not every child could go to school. But I didn’t receive the guilt and compensation from my parents. Only cold treatment. I thought, as long as I can go to school, it’s fine. They said the fake daughter’s parents had passed away, so they wouldn’t send her away. But their daily treatment of us was worlds apart. I didn’t feel like the Grant family’s Tessa. I felt more like the maid’s daughter. It wasn’t until my parents asked me to enter a business marriage that I learned the handsome young man Lila had always followed around had been in a serious car accident. They said his leg would never heal, and he would limp for the rest of his life. Lila cried and screamed that she would never marry a cripple. So this mission fell to me. I could have refused. But when I thought of that face, so handsome under the sunlight, which I hadn’t seen in a year, I agreed as if possessed. That year I was twenty, about to start my sophomore year. My parents made me take a leave of absence, and I got married at a young age. When I went to see him, he threw a terrible tantrum, smashing a vase at my feet and shouting for Lila to come. But Lila had already gone abroad to study, funded by our parents’ black card. The Grant parents’ business relied on Sterling Corporation. Lila didn’t want to marry a cripple, but they needed someone to stabilize the relationship between the two families, so they pushed me forward. That was the first time my mother, Mrs. Grant, showed me any kindness. She cried about how difficult things were for the family, cried about how pitiful Lila was, cried about how Mr. Grant’s hair was already turning white. I remained unmoved. I said, why are you telling me all this? If I want to marry him, it’s not because of you. It’s because of Holt himself. When I was a freshman, Holt was a senior. He was the famous campus heartthrob and campus king. The confession wall was filled with countless confessions, and countless daughters of wealthy families tried to win his favor. But at that time, only Lila was by his side. Because of this, Lila became the object of everyone’s admiration. She proudly talked about how unique she was to Holt, how she occupied an unshakable position in his heart. I appreciated people with good looks, but what I appreciated more was his academic achievement. His obsession with and dedication to mathematics led him to publish many SCI papers. I had read every single one, and they had even solved several problems I’d been stuck on. I was impressed by his talent. It wasn’t hard to go from admiration to love. On our wedding day, Holt didn’t smile once. I was so nervous that I kept trembling and wiping the sweat from my hands. I almost fell when Holt took my hand. The people around us laughed. I felt like something that couldn’t be presented in public. I faintly heard people mention Lila, and Holt’s face darkened even more. I thought, he must love Lila. Otherwise, why would he resent me so much? In that instant, I regretted it—regretted my marriage and regretted my secret crush. That night, Holt vented on my body, but his leg wasn’t working well. It hurt so much that I pushed him down, stopped him from moving, and sat on top of him myself, slowly taking him in. Before long, both our breathing grew heavy. Holt’s face flushed red, and I too was lost in my own movements.

There wasn’t much conflict in the Sterling household. Here, I actually felt more comfortable than I had at the Grant house. I loved reading and still loved researching academic problems. Although I had taken a leave of absence, I hadn’t forgotten to study. As for Holt, he went from not coming home for days at a time to coming home on time every day. Even when work was busy, he would send me messages saying where he’d gone. I learned massage techniques from a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner. I wondered if Holt’s leg could slowly improve through massage. Once I had the idea, I started doing it. At first, I was a bit shy when I told Holt about my plan. Later, I became skilled at massaging him. After six months, I could even recite all the acupuncture points on the human body from memory. Holt went from protesting at first to accepting it, and eventually waited for me to give him a half-hour massage every day. I felt my hands were getting stronger. Life was actually quite boring. So when I went to Sterling Corporation once to deliver documents Holt had left at home, a short drama editor noticed me. He asked if I wanted to try playing a supporting role in their drama—a scholar character. He thought my temperament was perfect. I agreed on impulse, and Holt didn’t object either. Unexpectedly, that short drama became a huge hit, and even I, as the third female lead, gained my own fans. I found it novel. I had never imagined entering the entertainment industry, a place that had nothing to do with me. Sterling Corporation had many businesses. Rain Entertainment was just a very small part of it. Holt said as long as I didn’t use the Sterling name outside, I could do whatever I wanted. So gradually, I got an agent, Lynn, and a small assistant. I also took on fourth, fifth, and sixth female lead roles in several big IP dramas. I became an unknown small-time actress. Sometimes scrolling through Twitter, I found it really interesting. I would lie in bed reading fan comments to Holt while massaging his leg with one hand. Without paying attention, I pressed somewhere I shouldn’t have. Holt let out a muffled groan. I thought I’d hurt him and quickly dropped my phone to check, but Holt pressed me down on the bed. Kissing came naturally, and what followed was just as natural. We became more and more in sync, both finding pleasure in it. From that point on, our relationship advanced by leaps and bounds. He would bring me my favorite little cakes, buy me clothes and jewelry, and occasionally take me to movies or walks by the lake. We were like an ordinary couple. Holt’s leg was getting better and better under my massage. Even the doctor called it a miracle. Now when Holt walked, as long as he didn’t move too fast, you couldn’t tell he had a limp at all. In the third year of our marriage, Lila came back. The day she returned, Holt surprisingly didn’t cling to me. My parents also called for the first time in three years, asking Holt and me to come home. Lila had been gone for three years and had never come back. At the only family gathering during Chinese New Year, Mr. and Mrs. Grant would awkwardly say that Lila was busy with her studies. Holt’s face was cold, and he said nothing. I didn’t know what he was thinking. After all, even though I was their biological daughter, I had barely been back to the Grant house since getting married. But the preferential treatment that should have gone to the Grant family had never stopped flowing their way. When Holt and I arrived at the Grant house, I saw a graceful young woman throw herself into Holt’s arms like the wind. I watched from the side. Holt didn’t push her away either. Tears fell from that woman’s eyes in large drops, soaking Holt’s suit. Watching this scene, my heart felt like it was being pricked by needles. I deeply regretted agreeing to return to the Grant house. Seeing me beside them, Lila straightened up. “I’m sorry, I was just so happy.” Holt’s temple twitched. With a cold face, he took my hand and led me to our seats. Lila looked at us with shock in her eyes. The meal was unbearable. Mr. and Mrs. Grant didn’t ask me once how I’d been doing recently. Instead, they desperately tried to get Lila and Holt to talk, saying things like “Lila has been thinking about you this whole time, Holt.” It suddenly struck me that my parents seemed to be pimping out Lila. From that day on, Lila appeared constantly around Holt and me like a fly. And Holt went from resisting at first to accepting her in less than a month. Lila wanted to enter the entertainment industry, so Holt had Rain Entertainment’s top agent handle her. Lila came and went from the Sterling Corporation building like the lady of the house. Everyone assumed she was Mrs. Sterling. After all, I had hidden my identity at Rain Entertainment. No one knew about my relationship with Holt. But Lila was different. She would loudly call Holt to act cute on the phone, then bring takeout to Holt’s office. As for me, after Holt coldly scolded me the first time I visited, I never went again. Everyone else thought I was some unknown actress trying to seduce the CEO. Lila was pure and lovely. With Holt’s backing, she quickly became popular, with resources constantly flowing her way. When Lynn asked me if I knew Lila, I said I didn’t. Lynn started gossiping about Lila, saying she was a diva who relied on her relationship with the CEO to snatch whatever endorsements she wanted. It wasn’t until three of my endorsements were stolen that I realized Lila was targeting me. As for Holt, since I entered this industry, he had never given me any preferential treatment. When we ran into each other in the building, he would act as if he didn’t see me. At that time, I hadn’t thought about divorce yet. After all, I really did like Holt.

Until something happened that seemed small to him. It was the first time I felt that Holt and I couldn’t go on anymore. It started with a popular wilderness reality show that invited both Lila and me. The whole process had been fairly harmonious. Lila played the role of a lively, cheerful celebrity, while I dutifully excelled in the games. That day, Holt rarely came to visit the set. The directors around him all courteously exchanged pleasantries with him. That’s when the accident happened. The bamboo bridge by the lake was old and in disrepair. When both Lila and I stepped onto it, it suddenly collapsed. Both of us fell into the lake. The surroundings erupted in chaos. The crew members all started to go into the water to save us. But what no one expected was that Sterling Corporation’s CEO, Holt, would be the first to jump into the lake. I couldn’t swim. When I saw Holt come in, I thought he was coming to save me. After all, I was his wife, no matter what. But when I saw him grab Lila and start swimming toward the shore, my heart suddenly felt at peace. I had only one thought: So after three years together, he doesn’t love me at all! Holt seemed not to notice that I had also fallen into the water. He picked up Lila and got into his Maybach. That urgency, that heartache—as I sank to the bottom of the lake, all I saw was the car driving away. By the time the crew pulled me out, I had passed out. It was just that coincidental. Everyone thought someone would save me, but Holt’s intervention made everyone forget about me. When the assistant director shouted to save me, everyone finally remembered I existed. I was rushed to the hospital. The reality show was suspended. When I woke up, only my agent Lynn was by my side. She was terrified, her eyes red as she looked at me. I moved my body. It seemed like nothing serious. “Lynn, it’s not like I died.” “Don’t say that! You scared me to death, Tessa. How could you be so unlucky? It’s all Mr. Sterling’s fault for making such a big show of saving Lila that everyone forgot about you. Don’t you feel hurt?” “I don’t.” My heart was very calm. I had foolishly thought Holt and I were husband and wife, that married couples were one. Reality had given me a harsh blow. I thought, Holt and I—this is where our fate ends. That afternoon when I was discharged, I saw Holt supporting Lila, with my parents following behind them. They were smiling, like a happy family. Lila leaned weakly on Holt, and my parents gently draped a coat over her. They seemed to have completely forgotten about me. I stared at their backs in a daze, then took out my phone and found the number of the lawyer Lynn had recommended to me. I asked him to draft a divorce agreement for me.

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After trying on the wedding dress, Ethan gently pulled the seatbelt over and fastened it for me. “Babe, I’ve seen you in the wedding dress. I won’t be attending the wedding.” I froze in shock. “What do you mean?” He smiled and kissed my forehead. “I’ve fallen for a younger woman. She has a temper and refuses to be a mistress. I got a marriage certificate with her this morning.” “I’m someone else’s husband now. If I go through with our wedding ceremony, my wife will be heartbroken.” My mind buzzed, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “Why?” His tone was apologetic yet innocent. “Babe, you’re the one I love most, but men… we’re always drawn to eighteen-year-old girls.” “If you still want a wedding, find a man to pretend to be the groom. Don’t shortchange yourself—it breaks my heart.” I pressed the pregnancy test result deeper into my pocket. He was right. I shouldn’t shortchange myself. Ethan acted like nothing had happened, habitually ruffling my hair. “She’s incredibly stubborn. If I didn’t get the marriage certificate with her, she wouldn’t let me touch her at all.” “I pursued her for nearly half a year. She only gave me her first time yesterday.” I stared at him as if someone had their hands around my throat, my limbs turning cold. But he smiled deeply. “Right in the seat you’re sitting in. Like a little wildcat—scratching and clawing, then melting into softness.” Following his lingering, reminiscing gaze, I looked at the windshield. Palm prints, large and small, overlapping. Not yet faded. A wave of nausea surged up my throat. I gripped the seatbelt so hard my eyes reddened. He cupped my bloodless face, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Why are you crying? You’re still Mrs. Walker.” In Ethan’s seductive eyes, there was still that impossibly thick affection. As if he wasn’t the one who’d just casually mentioned getting a certificate with another woman, or the one with that intoxicated look while describing passionate entanglement in my seat. The absurd sense of disconnection swept through my entire body. I couldn’t breathe. He sighed helplessly. “I know you’re uncomfortable, but she’s sensitive. If I attend the wedding, she’ll definitely cry. She’s different from other women—pure and virtuous, wanting only devoted love. I pursued her for half a year before she gave herself to me. I have to take responsibility. You’ve always been understanding and considerate. You’ll understand, right?” Half a year. We’d been planning our wedding for half a year too. So while he personally handled every detail of the wedding I wanted—the style, the venue, the flowers, the invitations— He was also working tirelessly in places I couldn’t see, doing everything in his power to sleep with another woman. I curled my frozen fingers, numbly closing my eyes. “Since you’ve married someone else, let’s end this.” He paused for two seconds, then laughed. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” “You’ve been with me since you were eighteen. You’ve had two abortions. If you leave me, what man out there would want you?” I stared at him. My heart felt like red-hot coals were rolling across it. Ten years. We’d lived under bridges, shared single bowls of instant noodles. In the hardest times, we could only drink water to fill our stomachs. Because we had no money, we couldn’t afford birth control or proper abortions. In the freezing cold, I deliberately exposed myself, climbed stairs and threw myself down them. Through the pain, crying until I was exhausted, I lost two children. Ethan had knelt by my hospital bed, stabbing himself twice. With bloody hands trembling, he covered my eyes, speaking word by word in my ear: “Peyton, I’ll make sure you live a good life. If I ever wrong you, may I die a terrible death.” That promise was heavy. I believed it for half my life. But now, it was easily defeated by a woman he’d known for six months. I didn’t understand how someone who loved me so much could suddenly turn rotten. His phone rang with a special ringtone. One that had appeared many times at night. Ethan always said it was clients. Because I trusted him so much, I never doubted. Now I realized how stupid I’d been. He didn’t answer immediately, his voice calm like he was pacifying an unreasonable child. “Why make trouble over a plaything? We have ten years together. Are you really going to give up over a piece of paper?” “You’re not young anymore, Peyton. No parents, no mother, no job. Only I’ll take care of you. Keep making a scene and it won’t end well.” He pulled the car to the roadside. “Take a taxi home yourself. I’m picking her up. Think carefully about what I said.” The car door closed like a heavy slap. Watching the speeding car disappear, I bent over the roadside, vomiting until my face was covered in tears. Ethan was wrong. No one gets a marriage certificate with a toy. That certificate I’d waited ten years for and never received. True love never changes—it just transfers. I looked up at the gloomy sky, my heart hollow and drafty. After a long while, I picked up my phone and made a call.

When I got home, Ethan’s Bentley was parked outside. Through the cracked car window, a man’s languid panting drifted out. “Call me darling.” “Darling…” “Who do you love most?” “You, of course…” “Such a good girl. I’d die for you.” I stood there, my face drained of color. Even though the summer sun was scorching and hot, I felt like I was standing in freezing cold. An hour later, Ethan walked in with his arm around a petite woman. Seeing me sitting in the living room, Sophia acted like she’d suffered a great injustice, her eyes instantly welling up. “Why is she here? Didn’t you say this was our home?” “Are you lying to me? You still can’t let her go, can you?” “Even if I love you, I’ll never sell my dignity to be your mistress. I’m leaving right now!” Ethan hurried to stop her, hugging and embracing her, trapping her in his arms. “What are you thinking? The marriage certificate has the official seal on it. You’re my wife. This is our home. She’s here to pack her things.” He looked at me without explanation or apology. “Peyton, the suburban villa is quiet with few people around. Go stay there for a while.” My mind went blank for a moment. Before anger could arrive, my heart felt a dull, physiological pain. Three years ago, when we moved into this villa, Ethan had held me with reddened eyes. “Peyton, this is our home from now on. You, me, and our children.” But now, this man who promised me a home was kicking me out of it three years later. “Peyton, my wife isn’t happy. I don’t want to say it twice.” He smiled, but his lowered voice carried clear warning. My sore throat felt blocked by soaked cotton. I realized in a daze that he wasn’t joking. After a long silence, under his confident certainty, I nodded hoarsely. “I understand.” Ethan stared at my retreating back, something stirring in his eyes. He suddenly strode forward and grabbed me, his voice softening slightly. “There’s an event this afternoon. Come with me.” Just as I was about to refuse, he interrupted first. “It’s Sophia’s first time at this kind of event. Help her with her dress and give her support.” I froze, feeling absurdly like laughing. Thinking of the little time I had left, I didn’t argue. Before the event, Sophia claimed she had no suitable dress. From my wardrobe, she precisely picked out the most luxurious birthday gift Ethan had ever given me—a unique dress worth six hundred million dollars with matching jewelry. She held Ethan’s arm while I carried her train, becoming the center of attention at the entire event. The guests’ mockery and whispered gossip followed me like shadows. “Mr. Walker really knows how to handle women. Having his wife carry his mistress’s train—she doesn’t dare say a word.” “What Mrs. Walker? Don’t you know Mr. Walker already got a certificate with this little mistress? Peyton is just trash who’s been used for ten years. She’s nothing.” “How stupid must she be to get nothing after ten years? Pathetic. Living like something worse than a dog—she might as well be dead.” I fled the banquet hall and hid in the restroom. But I heard someone teasing Ethan. “Ethan, Peyton followed you for ten years. Did you really get a certificate with that innocent girl?” “She wanted security. It’s just a piece of paper. What can it change?” “What if Peyton runs away? Won’t you regret it?” My heart tightened, but I heard him laugh carelessly. “Peyton’s whole world is me. After following me for ten years, I’ve already broken her in. She’s no different from a dirty old rag now.” “I know her too well. When I get tired of playing around, she’ll still be standing there waiting for me like a good girl.” I couldn’t hear the rest. I walked to the sink, desperately splashing water on my face, finally biting down on the flesh between my thumb and index finger. Watching water mix with humiliated tears splash into the sink, I didn’t cry out loud. Ethan, this time you bet wrong. This dirty rag you despise won’t wait for you anymore. Turning to leave the restroom, I was suddenly struck across the face.

I covered my burning cheek, turning my head in disbelief. Sophia rolled her wrist, the gentleness on her face peeling away. “You heard everything. Ethan already got a certificate with me, and you’re still shamelessly clinging to him? How cheap can you be?” “If you love being a mistress and getting used by men so much, go to a brothel.” “Though a freebie like you who’s been played for ten years is only fit to pair up with trash from the slums.” My head buzzed, my vision filled only with the woman’s sharp, mean face and constantly moving mouth. I laughed in fury, but Sophia didn’t give me a chance to fight back. She suddenly screamed, tore open the front of her dress, and threw herself backward. “Peyton!” A cold voice exploded behind me. Ethan rushed over, helping Sophia up and pulling her into his arms. She cried so hard she could barely stand, tears flowing instantly. “Ethan, I’m the mistress. I ruined your relationship with Miss Reed. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have appeared. I’m a vicious homewrecker.” As she spoke, she slapped herself hard twice across the face. Ethan grabbed her hands, his eyes trembling. “Who said those things to you?” Sophia bit her lip, clutching her clothes desperately. “Please, don’t ask.” But when her eyes swept over me, she shook her head in fear. “Someone like me can’t afford to offend wealthy ladies like you. Ethan, I’m not worthy of you. Let me go. I don’t want to die mysteriously someday.” He frowned, his gaze turning hostile as he stared at me. “Explain!” I lowered my hand, revealing my swollen red cheek. “You should ask what she said.” “Miss Reed!” Sophia shrieked, her voice sharp and piercing. “I did slap you, but only because you threatened me with my parents’ lives. They’re just ordinary people. If you’re not satisfied, let me hit you back. I’m begging you, don’t hurt them.” My eyes turned red with anger. “You’re lying. It was clearly you who—” “Enough.” Ethan cut me off coldly, looking at me with disappointment. “Peyton, I’ve spoiled you.” “Do you think just because you have no parents, I can’t touch you?” Perhaps I’d expected it all along. Perhaps my heart had grown cold long ago. I laughed hollowly, my eyes burning painfully. “So what do you want to do to stand up for your wife?” He walked slowly toward me, methodically removing from my finger the ring he’d personally made for me when he earned his first fortune. He turned to his assistant. “Call the police. My wife’s jewelry was stolen. We’ve caught the thief red-handed.” I forgot how to move, my mind completely blank. Ethan’s rise to success hadn’t been easy. He was accustomed to ruthlessness. I was his only weakness. Regardless of right or wrong, he always sided with family over justice. In River City, no one dared use dirty tricks on me. But now, the person plunging the knife into my heart was him. Ethan caressed the ring, his cold features becoming increasingly unfamiliar through the tears welling in my eyes. “Peyton, you’re too disobedient. Go inside and reflect for a few days.” “Don’t worry, it won’t be long. When you come out, I’ll put the ring back on your finger myself.” I pulled my lips into a mocking smile. As the police officers walked in and handcuffed me, I expressionlessly withdrew the hand he was holding. The suddenly empty sensation made Ethan frown uneasily. He stared at my retreating back with the strange feeling he’d never be able to hold onto me again. Just as he was about to step forward, Sophia grabbed his arm first.

“Ethan, thank you for standing up for me. I was so scared just now.” He clicked his tongue and pinched her face affectionately. “What compensation do you want?” Sophia smiled and snatched the ring from his hand, tossing it into the trash. Seeing his expression change, she immediately teared up guiltily. “Is it that important?” She made as if to dig through the trash. “Then I’ll find it for you. After all, it’s ten years of history. Even though she hurt me, I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” Ethan pulled her back by the waist, his heart melting completely. “How could it be more important than you? Don’t dirty your hands. Here’s my black card—buy whatever you want.” Sophia huffed indignantly and refused. “I don’t want your money. I only love you as a person.” “Yes, yes, yes. I want to spend money on my wife. If you don’t spend it, I’ll feel terrible.” Only then did she reluctantly accept it. Three days later, I was brought out of solitary confinement in a daze. I was escorted directly to a private room in a club. Pushing open the door, Ethan and Sophia were sharing a grape on the center sofa. The grape dropped, and they took the opportunity to kiss deeply. The cheering from the surrounding men and women nearly blew the roof off. I don’t know how long passed before Ethan noticed me standing at the door. He stared at my gaunt, pale face, his expression immediately darkening. “What happened? Did someone bully you inside?” Before I could speak, Sophia giggled. “Miss Reed really knows how to manipulate men. With your relationship with Ethan, who would dare bully you? You must have spent a lot of time on this sickly makeup—it looks so realistic.” Ethan’s movement to stand up fell back down because of her words. He knocked out a cigarette, lighting it with the flame Sophia offered. Smoke blurred his features. Only those eyes looking at me showed suppressed impatience. “Since you’ve reflected, come apologize to Sophia.” Sophia wore all white, sitting obediently in Ethan’s arms, swirling a glass of alcohol with unknown proof. “Actually, I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” “But you insulted my parents. Anyone would be upset, right?” She paused, as if remembering something, making a strange exclamation. “I forgot—your parents abandoned you as a child. You’re a pitiful creature nobody wanted.” I said nothing. She placed the drink on the coffee table and smiled. “Apologize.” I lowered my head. “I’m sorry.” Sophia shook her head. “Just words aren’t sincere enough. This drink is sixty proof. Drink it.” I stared at the glass of bubbling green liquid, instinctively looking at Ethan. During those years building his empire with him, I’d drunk myself into a perforated stomach at countless business dinners. I’d been in the ICU several times. Ethan had been terrified. He never let me touch alcohol again. He knew better than anyone how close I’d come to dying on the operating table. But now the man before me only exhaled a smoke ring indifferently, as if casually commenting on nice weather. “Peyton, it’s just one glass. Your tolerance isn’t that low.” I’d stopped expecting anything long ago, yet my heart still clenched uncontrollably. I picked it up and swallowed it down. The burning pain seared from my throat straight into my stomach. My lower abdomen cramped. I staggered back two steps in pain. “Miss Reed has such a good tolerance. Then drink these few glasses too.” Sophia pointed at a row of colorful drinks on the table. My face turned cold. Sophia looked at Ethan pitifully. “Ethan, she called me a mistress and threatened to kill my parents. My spirit has been so badly hurt. I’m only asking for this tiny bit of compensation. Is that too much?” “Of course not.” Ethan held her, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, saying matter-of-factly, “Peyton, I want to help you too, but what you did was too much. Listen to Sophia. Once she’s appeased, you can atone.” I nodded calmly. Clutching my knife-twisted abdomen, I picked up the decanter on the table. “A few glasses aren’t enough to atone. I’ll chug the bottle.” When the bottle hit the floor, I couldn’t help spitting blood everywhere, collapsing weakly to the ground. Sophia stepped back several paces in disgust. “Miss Reed, it’s just one bottle. Did you really need to use blood packs?” Ethan was also convinced by this explanation, frowning impatiently. “Enough. How long are you going to keep up this act? Sophia has been merciful enough to you. Still not embarrassed enough? Get up.” I didn’t speak, just looked up at him. The woman closest to me suddenly screamed. “Blood—her pants are covered in blood. This is… she’s having a miscarriage…” Meeting Ethan’s face instantly drained of color, I showed my first genuinely sincere smile of the day. “I’ve paid her back with your child too. Is that enough?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “379958”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On a family reality show, my daughter tearfully recounted her childhood filled with “domestic abuse.” “I was just playing, blowing bubbles with dish soap, and you beat me as soon as you got home from work…” “It felt like, in your eyes, even breathing was a mistake.” I quickly cut off her melodramatic pity party. “You were inhaling bug spray.” My daughter stared in disbelief, her eyes wide: “Then what about the time I kindly put lip balm on my cousin, and Dad wanted to hit me too?” I rolled my eyes: “You used Super Glue.” After a minute of silence, still unwilling to give up, my daughter asked: “Well, Grandpa hitting me had no justification, right?” I was exhausted by this conversation. “You grabbed a live eel and swung it around like a lasso. In today’s terms—you were a ‘Monster Child’.” Tired of her endlessly digging up the past, I just kept going, listing everything. “Your grandma spanked you because you stole funeral wreaths, arranged them in a circle on her bed, and lay in the middle.” “Your aunt hit you because you dragged a prop dead baby from a haunted house all the way home.” “As for your uncle—he was driving, and you insisted on playing ‘Guess Who?’ by covering his eyes.” The internet exploded instantly. [Playing dead, fighting the dead, manufacturing the dead.] [Every family has its problems, but Maya Price’s family has 1599 of them!] 1 “Maya, I’ll say this one more time. I don’t have time right now. The board meeting starts in five minutes.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, speaking coldly into my Bluetooth earpiece. The details of a multi-billion dollar cross-border acquisition were spread out on the desk in front of me. I couldn’t afford to be distracted. On the other end of the line, my rapper daughter, using her signature arrogant, drawling voice, stretched out her words. “One month. I promise, for one month, I’ll secretly eat spicy noodles in your bedroom, and I’ll even buy you a brand new set of silk sheets.” I stared at the phone in silence for three seconds, then expressionlessly pressed the intercom button. “Cici, cancel all my afternoon meetings. Also, book me the fastest flight to LA.” Cici’s voice held a hint of panic: “Ms. Vance, what about the meeting with the venture capitalists…” “Let them wait.” … On the premiere day of the family reality show, the live comments almost flooded the screen. My daughter, Maya Price, was the new top-tier rap artist of her generation. With a head of pink dreadlocks, smoky makeup, and ripped jeans, her entire vibe screamed “stay away.” She had gained countless fans with her rebellious, “bad girl” persona, and her haters despised her just as passionately. Because of this, the public was incredibly curious about her family background. Everyone assumed that Maya’s unconventional behavior must stem from a dysfunctional family. They believed it was her parents’ negligence that caused her to develop such a prickly, defensive exterior. So, when I appeared on camera, the live comments instantly exploded. [Here comes the capitalist. Look at that cold face. Maya must have suffered a lot.] [I bet a bag of chips this mom is a total control freak. Otherwise, why would Maya be so rebellious?] [Finally seeing the real deal. The pain of her family background—let’s judge it today.] I swept my gaze over the cameras expressionlessly, as if I were looking at an ordinary financial report. These rumors and gossip couldn’t hurt me in the slightest. After I arrived, the other two groups of guests also showed up. One was the newly minted Best Actor, Ethan Reed, and his mother, Brenda. The other group consisted of a pair of sibling influencers famous for extreme sports documentaries, Sarah and Leo Cole. Ethan’s mother, Brenda, wore a mismatched floral top and pants, with brand new, cheap canvas shoes on her feet. Her eyes darted around with a timid, probing curiosity, looking completely out of place in the glamorous studio. Before the filming even officially started, she proactively came over, plastering a flattering smile on her face. “Miss, you’re so pretty. What kind of work do you do?” I maintained basic politeness, giving a slight nod, and was just about to answer. Actor Ethan Reed quickly walked over, affectionately put his arm around his mother’s shoulder, and answered for me with a smile. “Mom, this is Maya Price’s mother, Ms. Victoria Vance. She runs her own company.” The smile on Brenda’s face stiffened for a second, quickly replaced by a knowing look tinged with contempt as she looked me up and down. “Oh, running a company. Then you must rely on the men in your family, right?” “A woman’s career, no matter how good, is useless. Husbands are unreliable.” “It’s best to be like our Ethan. Relying on your son is the most secure.” The sourness in her tone practically spilled through the screen. It was as if she believed all my designer clothes were earned through some kind of improper relationship. [LMAO, what century is this lady living in? Every time she opens her mouth, it’s so old-fashioned.] [Is the Best Actor’s mom really this ignorant? I’m starting to feel sorry for him.] [For once, I have to defend the capitalist. Ms. Vance’s face says it all: squinting confusedly at phone meme.] Ethan’s face instantly turned beet red, and he apologized to me profusely. “Ms. Vance, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. My mom is from a small town, she doesn’t know how to talk. Please don’t take it to heart.” With that, he half-dragged his mother away quickly. I watched their retreating figures, remaining silent. I had done my research before coming. Rumor had it that Best Actor Ethan Reed started from nothing. His father died when he was young, and he and his mother depended on each other. They were famous in the industry for being a loving, devoted mother and son. Looking at it now, that “devotion” probably wasn’t easy to maintain. At that moment, a flash of pink caught my eye. 2 Maya had her hands in her pockets, chewing gum. She glanced in the direction Ethan and his mother had left, the corners of her mouth turning down, her tone carrying a hint of barely detectable jealousy. “Tsk. Other people’s moms follow them around voluntarily. But you? I have to beg and plead just to get you here.” I heard the awkwardness and envy in her words. This kid was always like this. Clearly wanting something in her heart, but her mouth insisting she didn’t care. I didn’t argue with her. After all, over the years, the time I spent with her could be counted on one hand. I raised my hand, instinctively wanting to pat her head, but was deterred by the prickly dreadlocks. I patted her shoulder instead. “Okay, okay. That was my mistake. I’ll pay more attention next time.” My tone was unusually gentle. Maya seemed a bit stunned, not expecting me to be so agreeable, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. Her cheeks puffed out, and she popped a gum bubble with a loud smack. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the sign-in desk. “Let’s go, Your Highness the Little Demon. Let’s see which brave production team dared to invite you to wreak havoc.” As soon as my words fell, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the head director frantically making hand gestures to the cameraman. On the giant screen in the center of the studio, the live comments were rolling continuously. One longer comment stood out conspicuously. [Feeling so sorry for our boy Ethan, having to film a show with a capitalist who reeks of money. I hope the production team protects him and his auntie, don’t let them be corrupted by someone with no class.] I shook my head helplessly. Fame really does bring a lot of trouble. Of course, I was referring to this “boy” Best Actor. The show officially started recording. The studio lights were blinding. The host held his cue cards and announced the start of the first segment with an incredibly hyped-up tone. “Our first segment is called ‘Shout Out Your Love’!” “To all the parents and children here today, if there’s anything you’ve always wanted to say but were too embarrassed to, or if you have any grievances with each other, today, right here, shout it out loud!” I leaned back in the sofa, expressionless. Maya sat next to me, slouching in her seat, boredly picking at the rips in her jeans. The host scanned the room, his gaze finally landing on Ethan. “In terms of seniority, Ethan is a veteran in the industry. Why don’t you start us off, Ethan?” The cameras instantly focused on him. Ethan straightened his back, a perfectly polite, slightly shy smile on his face. He didn’t speak immediately, instead falling into a long silence. The longer he remained silent, the crazier the live comments became. [Awww, look at his expression. You can tell how good his relationship with his mom is.] [Yeah, Ethan’s dad passed away early, and he and his mom went through so much hardship together. How could he have any complaints about her?] [Do you even have to ask? He’s definitely reminiscing about their difficult journey and is too moved to speak.] [Filial, hardworking, zero scandals. This is a true, quality idol!] Amidst the chorus of praise, Ethan finally looked up, faced the camera, and gently shook his head. His eyes were slightly red, his voice carrying a warm hint of a choke. “I don’t have a single complaint about my mother. She gave her all for me, and I only have gratitude.” A perfect answer. Flawless. I could almost hear the director sighing in disappointment backstage. The host, clearly afraid the segment would fall flat and lose ratings, quickly jumped in to smooth things over. “Wow, Ethan truly is a model of filial piety!” “However, the goal of this segment is to encourage more communication within families.” “Sometimes, speaking out about harmless little issues can actually make the relationship stronger!” “After all, you’re family. It’s not like a little friction is going to tear you apart, right?” 3 His words seemed to flip a switch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brenda, who had been sitting nervously on the side, suddenly light up. As if receiving some kind of permission and encouragement, she nodded vigorously and snatched the conversation. “The host is right! That’s exactly what I think!” Everyone’s eyes immediately focused on her. She completely ignored the warning look her son was shooting her, turned her body, and looked straight at Ethan. She paused for two seconds, and then, like a dam breaking, years of accumulated resentment poured out. “Ethan! Tell me the truth. I worked my fingers to the bone to raise you until you were eighteen, and paid for your college. Is that true or not?” Ethan’s face froze, and he could only manage a stiff nod for the cameras. “Yes.” “And now that you’re successful, a big star making all this money, why don’t you know to bring more money home?” “Didn’t your cousin just ask you to help him find a job on a movie set?” “You won’t even help your own uncle’s kids! Where am I supposed to put my face?!” Ethan’s face went from red to white. His lips moved, but he couldn’t get a single word out. Brenda, however, was gaining momentum, completely oblivious to the host sweating profusely and frantically giving her signals. “Also, last time I told you to buy me a gold bracelet, what did you buy me? What brand was it… Tiffany? It was silver!” “With just a tiny, little crushed diamond embedded in it. It was incredibly expensive, but when I wore it out, people thought it was fake!” “I told you I wanted solid gold! Gold holds its value, don’t you understand?” “Are you just embarrassed by your country bumpkin mother? Afraid I’ll make you lose face, is that it?” “You say you’re busy with work. You come home maybe twice a year, stay for one day, and leave before you even unpack.” “I asked you to take me to one of those… those galas, to see the world, and you always say it’s ‘inconvenient’.” “What’s so inconvenient about it? Are you afraid that bringing a mom from a small town will humiliate you?” This rapid-fire string of accusations was like a machine gun going off, plunging the entire studio into a deathly silence. Ethan’s face went from white to a sickly green. His knuckles were white from gripping his knees so tightly. The host had beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his smile barely hanging on. He waved his hands repeatedly, trying to interrupt this out-of-control family trial. “Ma’am, Ma’am, please calm down a little. We’re… we’re mostly talking about small things in life, little things…” “How is this a small thing?” Brenda’s voice grew even louder. “You raise a son so he can take care of you when you’re old! Now his wings are fully grown, and he doesn’t care about his old mother anymore! Is that a small thing?!” The live comments paused for three seconds, and then erupted, covering the entire screen at an explosive rate. [Holy shit? What did I just hear?] [Scripted? This has to be scripted, right? What real mom would say that about her own son in front of a national audience?] [Making him find a job for his cousin? This is the ‘enabling relatives’ 2.0 version. Enabling nephews?] [Complaining that Tiffany is silver… My god. Is this the kind of life the Best Actor has been living?] [I’m shattered. What happened to ‘loving mother and devoted son’? This is completely different from all his PR articles!] [I suddenly feel a bit sorry for Ethan. This mom is too… suffocating.] I watched this farce coldly, picked up the teacup next to me, and gently blew on the hot liquid. Family ties. Sometimes it’s just a messy, confusing ledger. It might look glamorous on the outside, but on the inside, it’s long been corroded and riddled with holes by trivialities, conflicting interests, and resentment. 4 The farce between Ethan and his mother came to an abrupt end. The host used every ounce of his professional skill to steer the conversation back on track, sweating more than Ethan under the spotlights. Clearly terrified of engaging with that mother-son duo again, he quickly shifted his gaze to Maya and me. “Next up, let’s hear the story of our new generation cool girl, Maya, and her mom!” The host forcefully hyped up the atmosphere. “Maya, you always seem so cool and edgy. Is there anything you want to say to your mom?” Maya lazily lifted her eyelids, chewed her bubblegum, blew a pink bubble, and let it pop with a smack. She didn’t look at me, instead speaking directly to the camera: “If we’re talking about complaints, I have a ton. Mostly, I think my mom is way too hypocritical and strict. She totally doesn’t understand kids at all.” The live comments instantly revived. [Here we go! The main event is starting!] [Hypocritical? Tell us more, I love this!] [I knew it. A strong, successful woman like Ms. Vance is definitely super strict with her kids. No warmth at all…] Maya glanced at the screen, the smirk on her face growing wider. “When I was little, I used dish soap to blow bubbles for fun, and my mom gave me a brutal beating as soon as she got home.” “Is our family so broke we can’t even afford dish soap?” The live comments clearly empathized with her immediately. [Do rich families also do the ‘suffering builds character’ kind of parenting?] [My mom is exactly like that. Even now, I feel like breaking a bowl or wasting a little water is the end of the world.] [So annoying. It’s one thing not to buy a bubble machine, but getting yelled at for making homemade ones?] Seeing everyone rallying against me, I searched my memory for this incident. Did that happen? It seems… it actually did! After thinking deeply for a long time, I finally remembered the entire context of the event. I definitely spanked her that day, and I hit her pretty hard. The damn kid had a pair of lungs on her. She cried so loud my hearing was slightly muffled for days afterward, and I constantly had to ask my secretary to repeat things. So, I shot her a look of utter disdain. “You were inhaling bug spray. You passed out, and I had to rush you to the ER to get your stomach pumped.” “…” […] […HUH?????] [WHAT?????] Maya was clearly just as stunned in disbelief. A million grievances choked in her throat. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, unable to make a sound. But she clearly wasn’t ready to give up. After darting her eyes around, she spoke up again: “Then what about the time I kindly put lip balm on my cousin, and Dad wanted to hit me too? My cousin didn’t even complain! You guys just discipline me first!” I rubbed my forehead. “You used Super Glue. How was your cousin supposed to speak?” [HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA the cousin really didn’t say anything, because she literally couldn’t!] [Help me! Maya, you need to be seated at the same table as those medical examiners who deal with crazy patients!] After a moment of silence, she still wouldn’t let it go and asked me: “Well, Grandpa hitting me had no justification, right?” I was already feeling exhausted. “You grabbed a live eel and swung it around like a lasso. You hit your grandpa with it, and he got bitten.” Seeing she was about to speak again, I remembered everything and decided to just shut her down entirely. “Your grandma spanked you because you stole funeral wreaths, arranged them in a circle on her bed, and lay in the middle. Your grandma was bedridden for three days after she found out.” “Your aunt hit you because you dragged a prop dead baby from a haunted house all the way home. That bloody blanket it was wrapped in was a limited edition, and it was completely ruined.” “As for your uncle—he was driving, and you insisted on playing ‘Guess Who?’ by covering his eyes.” The live comments, which had been buzzing moments ago, were hit with a pause button, freezing for a full five seconds. Then, an even crazier explosion. [?????? What did I just hear?] [The real Monster Child is right here.] [I take back what I said earlier. This isn’t an evil mother, this is a savior, a bodhisattva!] [If it weren’t for Ms. Vance, Maya might not have lived to see another day.] [And the rest of her family too.] The host was also stunned by this shocking reversal. He turned to Maya, stammering, trying to salvage the situation. “Maya… is what your mom saying… true?” “Why… why is what you remember so different from your mom?” This seemed to snap Maya back to reality. “I… I don’t remember! Everything I said, I wrote it down in my diary when I was little!” Her words didn’t save the situation; instead, they made the atmosphere in the studio even more bizarre. The tone of the live comments shifted from shock to uncontrollable laughter. [Hahahaha I’m sorry, I laughed out loud. A diary?] [Isn’t that what all little kids do when they write in their diaries? ‘Mom hit me today, I hate her.’ They definitely wouldn’t write, ‘Because I almost threw my brother out the window today, Mom hit me.’] [Is this cooking the books? Selective recording, only writing what benefits you.] [LMAO, hammering yourself with your own diary. Maya, you’re a true talent.] [She was too young then. She probably didn’t even know what she did was wrong, she only knew she got hit.] 5 Seeing my daughter so embarrassed she looked ready to crawl into a hole, the annoyance I felt dissipated. This kid had always been sensitive and cared deeply about her pride since she was little. I didn’t press the issue, leaving her with a shred of dignity. Seeing this, the host quickly signaled the director to cut the shot and threw the topic to the final group of guests, the siblings Sarah and Leo. “Alright, alright! It’s normal to have some bumps and friction in a family. It’s good to talk it out!” “Let’s hear from Sarah and Leo. You guys have been voted ‘The Sibling Duo Everyone Wants’ by netizens. Do you have any grievances with each other?” The camera shifted to the siblings. The older sister, Sarah, wore a sleek, functional windbreaker. She had a healthy, tanned complexion and a bright, hearty laugh. The younger brother, Leo, was tall and handsome. His features resembled his sister’s, but with a touch of a sunny, bad-boy charm. The two looked at each other and almost burst out laughing at the same time. Sarah playfully slapped Leo on the shoulder. “Grievances? Of course! Every time this guy goes exploring, he stuffs his dirty socks in my backpack, and then denies it to the death when we get back!” Leo immediately fired back. “You have the nerve to talk about me? Last time we were in the rainforest, who started singing in the middle of the night and attracted the wolves?” “If I wasn’t a fast runner, we would have been wolf snacks!” “What do you know? That’s the power of music!” “Give it a rest. Even a monkey would run for the hills if it heard your singing.” The two bickered back and forth. There was no script, no acting—just the most authentic, natural sibling dynamic. That kind of intimacy and synergy, deeply ingrained in their bones, couldn’t be faked. The live comments were flooded with envious “Hahahaha”s and people wishing they had that kind of relationship. [This is the correct way to do sibling dynamics!] [So jealous. Great relationship, good-looking, and they get to adventure around the world together. What a dream life!] [Compared to the first two families, this is basically a healing anime.] [Having ability and having a loving family—this is true wealth.] Watching them wrap up their segment with playful banter, I actually felt a tinge of envy. I turned my head. Maya was looking down, her fingers unconsciously twisting together. Even her pink dreadlocks seemed to have wilted a little. The farce of the first segment finally concluded. The host wiped his sweat and announced the start of the second segment. “Next up is our cozy segment—’Kitchen of Love’! Each family will work together to complete a dish, and our staff will taste and score them!” As soon as he finished speaking, I raised my hand. The host paused for a second: “Ms. Vance, do you have a question?” “I don’t cook.” I stated the simple truth. “For the safety of everyone here, I’d like to request outside help for this segment.” The live comments started buzzing again. [??? Outside help? This is a family reality show, not a corporate negotiation!] [So precious, too precious. Won’t even cook a meal. How did Maya even grow up?] [Classic capitalist, trying to solve everything with money.] I looked at the scrolling comments, feeling a bit confused. If there’s a better solution, why not use it? A head chef from a five-star hotel is a hundred times better than me, a certified kitchen hazard. However, Maya beside me suddenly stood up, glaring at me fiercely. Her eyes quickly turned red, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion: “I’ve never eaten a meal you cooked.” The aggrieved look on her face made it seem like I had committed some heinous crime. I was a bit speechless: “You did when you were little. The result was that it almost drove me to have a second child.” Maya was choked by my words, tears welling in her eyes, stubbornly refusing to let them fall. [Oh my god, I suddenly feel like Maya’s death-wish genes come from her mom.] [If it was severe enough to make her want a second child, yeah, probably best not to eat it.] 6 Just then, Brenda, who had been closely watching the situation, saw an opportunity and immediately hurried over. She grabbed Maya’s hand, her face plastered with a maternal smile. “Oh, honey, it’s okay! Auntie will cook for you! When Auntie was young, I worked as a prep cook in a restaurant. I’m a great cook!” Maya seemed to have found an outlet. Incredibly moved, she turned and threw herself into Brenda’s arms. Sarah and Leo also walked over with smiles. “Ms. Vance, Maya, my brother and I are pretty good cooks too. Let’s do it together, it’ll be more fun with more people!” “Thank you all so much.” I thanked them sincerely, then turned to the camera crew: “Excuse me, could I have my phone, please?” While I messaged my executive assistant, I watched them head enthusiastically toward the kitchen area prepared by the production team. The kitchen quickly divided into three camps. Brenda, as she claimed, looked the part. But her idea of “knowing how to cook” was very different from my understanding of it. The ingredients provided by the production team were incredibly lavish: fresh Wagyu beef, coral grouper, organic vegetables—everything you could want. She took one look around, clicking her tongue. Then, she swiftly started stuffing the most expensive ingredients—like whole blocks of Wagyu beef, dried scallops, and shiitake mushrooms—into the giant tote bag she brought with her. Ethan looked sick. He stepped forward to stop her quietly. “Mom, what are you doing? These belong to the show…” Brenda smacked his arm, her voice rising uncontrollably. “What do you know! Your Uncle Bob’s kid is going to college and needs money! Your cousin’s husband’s business just went under!” “There are so many mouths to feed at home, and now that you have money, you’re getting a big head? Forgetting your roots?” “Taking these things back will feed them for days!” Ethan, scolded into submission, couldn’t lift his head. He could only silently wash the leftover scraps Brenda had discarded. On the other side, the siblings Sarah and Leo were a completely different picture. They chose a large amount of pork belly, potatoes, and chili peppers, and started clattering away, cooking a dish of potato and braised pork belly that looked like a calorie explosion. Smoke billowed, and the aroma filled the air, perfectly matching their persona as extreme sports influencers. Maya stood nearby, her eyes sparkling, looking so greedy she was about to drool. I looked at that high-fat, high-sodium carb bomb and sighed. Half an hour later, the dishes were brought to the table. Brenda had made a plate of stir-fried greens and a plate of minced meat with green beans. It was a very frugal approach; the minced meat was so sparse it could be ignored, and the greens looked unsalted, sitting limply in a watery puddle on the plate. I took one bite and expressionlessly put down my chopsticks. My cooking was a threat to life; her cooking simply killed any desire to eat. But Sarah and Leo’s plate of potato and braised pork belly was glistening with oil, smelled amazing, and tasted genuinely good. Maya immediately grabbed a huge piece and stuffed it into her mouth, her eyes crinkling in happiness. I warned her: “Eat less, it’s too greasy.” Her face immediately fell, and she slammed her chopsticks on the table. “What do you mean? Sarah and Leo worked so hard to make this. Why are you telling me not to eat it?” “You just don’t respect other people’s hard work!” The live comments echoed her sentiment. [Controlling everything, even what her daughter eats? Suffocating.] [Maya is so pitiful. She finally gets a hot meal, and her own mother ruins the mood.] [Exactly. People kindly cooked for your daughter, and you’re just picking at it.] I couldn’t be bothered to argue further, leaning back: “Suit yourself.” So, Maya happily continued eating with the Cole siblings. Ethan sat there awkwardly, silently eating plain rice, occasionally picking at the watery stir-fry his mother made. A plate of meat quickly disappeared. Maya let out a satisfied burp, then her face suddenly went pale. She covered her mouth and bolted out of the studio. Sarah and Leo were startled and quickly followed her out. Only Brenda and Ethan, and I, were left in the studio. I sat perfectly still, expressionlessly watching the direction Maya disappeared, not even twitching an eyebrow. The live comments went silent for two seconds, and the tide began to turn. […Threw up?] [Look at Ms. Vance’s expression. Total deadpan, like she saw this coming a mile away.] [Could it be… Maya does this often?] [I think I get it now. Some kids just have sensitive stomachs and throw up if they eat something too greasy. Maybe we blamed Ms. Vance wrongly?]

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I had lived for 50 years before I finally overheard the ugly truth from my two daughters-in-law. The “one that got away”—the female lead, Stella, who was about to return to the States—was actually the biological daughter of my husband Richard’s first love. My daughters-in-law had decided to make a run for it. They revealed that this returning heroine wasn’t just the obsession of my two sons, but also the precious daughter of my husband’s past lover. The three men in my life were conspiring to trick me into adopting her as my goddaughter. According to the plot, I was supposed to find out the truth at seventy, but I was only fifty. “Screw that. Why should I suffer for another twenty years?” I decided to fake my death right on the route they took to “rescue” their precious female lead. I wanted to make them drown in guilt for the rest of their lives. Later, Richard lost his mind. My two sons were consumed by regret. Meanwhile, my two daughters-in-law took me away to live our most wicked, fabulous lives. Surrounded by ten gorgeous, young male masseurs, we got pampered at the spa while they hand-fed us fresh fruit. 01 It took half a century to hear the truth slipping from my daughters-in-law’s lips. The returning “white moonlight” heroine, Stella, was the daughter of my husband Richard’s first love, Valerie. My daughters-in-law had decided to pull a vanishing act. My eldest daughter-in-law, Olivia, was frantically dumping diamonds, gold, and pearls into a designer suitcase. “I refuse to end up like our mother-in-law. I want a divorce. What about you?” My second daughter-in-law, Maya, tapped away on her phone. “If you’re out, I’m out. “I definitely don’t want to spend the rest of my life watching both my husband and his brother obsess over their dad’s first love’s daughter. “Let me check how much I’ve milked from Cole over our three-year marriage. Hehe, nine and a half million in my private account. Enough for us to live like absolute queens. “But how do we get a divorce? Do you really think Wyatt and Cole will just let us go?” Olivia thought about it carefully. “If we just ask for a divorce, they’ll flat out refuse. “They might even freeze our accounts. You’ll be sitting on nine million bucks and won’t be able to spend a dime. “When Valerie came back to the States years ago, Mom asked for a divorce. Dad adamantly refused and froze her accounts, leaving her without a penny to even rent a motel. “And then Mom found out she was pregnant with twins. For the kids’ sake, she had to stay trapped by Dad’s side. “But what she absolutely never realized is that five years later, Dad frequently took the boys on overseas ‘business trips.’ He claimed he was grooming them for the business, but he was really taking them to play with Valerie’s daughter! “He conditioned the boys to treat Stella like their own precious sister. They practically grew up as childhood sweethearts. “According to the plot, once Stella returns, the three of them will brainwash Mom into adopting her as a goddaughter. She’ll dote on her. Where does that leave us? We’ll lose our luxurious lives! “Why don’t we just fake our deaths and disappear?” Maya agreed immediately. “I’m with you. I’m going back to my room to pack my jewelry right now. “These past three years of maxing out Cole’s black card on designer bags and gems… selling them will give us plenty of cash. We won’t starve.” As she walked out of Olivia’s room, she bumped right into me eavesdropping by the door. Maya’s face went ghost white. She stammered, “M-Mom… how much of that did you hear?” I felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath, yet my chest burned with a raging fire. Clenching my fists, I asked, “Is everything you said true? Is Stella really Valerie’s daughter?” Maya looked conflicted, shooting a desperate glance at Olivia for help. “What do we do now? She’s going to tell Richard and the boys and ruin our escape plan!” I grabbed both of their hands tightly, refusing to let go. “You’re right. I won’t let you go—unless you take me with you.” 02 I thought about what Richard had said to me just last night. “Honey, haven’t you always wanted a daughter? “A friend of mine overseas passed away, leaving his only daughter all alone. She’s moving back to the States. Why don’t we make her our goddaughter? She can live with us and be the sweet daughter you always wanted.” Wyatt and Cole had chimed in enthusiastically. “Yeah, Mom! Her name is Stella. She’s super sweet and knows exactly how to make people smile. You’ll definitely love her.” Haha. Great. Just great. The three most important men in my life were stabbing me in the back! No wonder Wyatt got into a massive fight with Olivia this morning. He was gripping her by the shoulders, his eyes bloodshot as he demanded, “Stella disappeared right after getting off the plane. Did you hire someone to kidnap her?!” I had rushed in, telling my son to let go and asking if there was a misunderstanding. But Richard had pulled me aside, his temper flaring hotter than his son’s. “What misunderstanding?! Olivia, speak up! Where did you take Stella?!” No wonder Richard was more frantic than his own sons. That Stella was the daughter of his “one that got away,” Valerie. Memories flooded back like a tidal wave. I suddenly remembered a conversation when Wyatt and Cole were five. “Dad, can Stella’s mom be our mom? “We really want Stella’s mom to be our mom. Then Stella can be our sister and live with us. “We want to play with her and protect her forever.” I had curiously asked, “Who is Stella?” I remembered Richard sternly scolding the boys, “Don’t talk nonsense!” Then he turned to me. “She’s just the daughter of a friend abroad. A cute little kid. The boys saw her once and are obsessed with wanting to be her big brothers.” I had completely ignored how evasive his eyes were and how guilty he sounded. How pathetic. I sacrificed my career and ambitions. I poured my entire heart and soul into these three men. And this was how they repaid me? I felt drained of all my strength, swaying on my feet. Then I looked at my two clear-headed daughters-in-law. When a man loves you, max out his credit cards. When he doesn’t, pack the gold and run. By comparison, I felt like the biggest idiot in the world. Afraid they would think I was too old and refuse to take me, I laid my cards on the table. “Richard’s private safe has a hundred solid gold bars, 500 grams each. “If you take me with you, I will clean out his safe right now. “From now on, whatever you want to eat, drink, or buy, it’s all on me.” 03 My daughters-in-law’s eyes instantly lit up. They looked ready to hug my legs. Olivia whispered, “Mom, honestly, we’ve wanted to take you and break this plot for ages. “I’ll level with you. We’re living the ‘best friends marrying brothers’ trope, and you’re the ‘tragic, oblivious mother’. “Three years ago, my best friend and I got into a car crash in our original world and transmigrated into this novel, marrying into the Sterling family. “The System wanted me to romance the CEO older brother, and for her to play the devoted wife to the genius surgeon younger brother. “But once the true female lead, Stella, returns, your sons will act like they’re under a spell. They’ll go crazy for her and brainwash you into taking her in. “You always wanted a daughter, so you’ll treat her like absolute royalty, giving her whatever she wants. “You wouldn’t find out her true identity until you’re seventy, and you’d divorce in a fit of rage. “But that’s not a satisfying ending. It’s better to wake up now and make a clean break.” Maya gritted her teeth. “Exactly, Mom. If you want daughters, just treat us like your daughters. “We’ll take you out to live the high life and enjoy being utterly selfish. “As long as we have money, what kind of handsome, obedient pool boys can’t we find? “Last time Olivia and I went to the luxury spa, we ordered ten gorgeous guys to wait on us. It was heavenly. “Next time, we’ll take you with us. “Isn’t that a million times better than serving an aging father-in-law?” They were right. Why should I waste the rest of my life on three ungrateful wolves? I felt cold, but I smiled through my tears. “Deal. I’ll go empty their little treasuries right now. “Then, we disappear.” 04 I went to the master bedroom to raid Richard’s safe. A full one hundred gold bars, shoved unceremoniously into my suitcase. As I reached for the last bar, my hand brushed against a hidden button. A secret compartment popped open. Inside was an old photograph. The background was a stunning, snow-covered ski resort. There were five people in the picture. Two little boys were teaching a little girl how to ski. The other two adults were a younger Richard and Valerie, her hair blowing in the wind. It was a candid shot. It looked exactly like a perfectly happy family of five. I gripped the photo, my pupils dilating, my hands shaking uncontrollably. It was more jarring than anything my daughters-in-law had told me. It pierced straight through my heart. So, everything they said was true. I wanted to march right up to Richard and smash the photo into his face. I wanted to demand why he treated me this way. It wasn’t like I had refused to divorce him back then! Why did he stubbornly refuse to let me go, while secretly taking our sons on ski trips with Valerie? And why did he make my sons treat Valerie’s daughter like their precious first love? It was so disgusting. I wanted to throw up. Suddenly, a deep voice came from behind me. “Why are you opening the safe? “And why did you take all the gold out?” 05 It was Richard. I jumped. Terrified he might realize I was planning to run, I took the offensive. I whipped the photo at his face, my eyes welling with tears. “What is this?! Explain this to me! “Richard Sterling, how could you do this to me?!” Richard’s eyes clearly darted away in guilt, but he quickly regained his infuriatingly calm CEO demeanor. “It’s just an old photo. Don’t make a fuss over nothing. “It’s ancient history. Not even worth bringing up.” Seeing my red eyes, he softened his tone. “If you insist on an explanation, fine. “Valerie’s daughter had a rare form of autism. Her psychologist suggested she interact with kids her own age to help her condition. I felt bad for the kid, so I took the boys on a ski trip with them. That’s all. I have no other relationship with her.” He was still lying to my face! If they had no relationship, why hide this photo in a secret compartment inside his safe? My heart stung, but I fought back the tears and said, “Let’s get a divorce.” Richard’s eyes widened in shock. “What did you say?” I zipped up the suitcase, my heart completely dead. “I said, divorce. I’m keeping these gold bars, and you get the rest. You’re not losing out.” Richard lost his temper, shouting my full name: “Clara, have you lost your mind?! “I’ll give you one last chance. Take back what you just said!” Not a chance. I smiled, feeling a profound bleakness. “I’m not crazy! “That missing girl you’re all desperately looking for right now, Stella, is the girl in this photo, isn’t she? “And you wanted me to adopt her as my goddaughter? “Richard, what the hell is wrong with you? Do you have no conscience? “Since you want her as a daughter so badly, I’ll step aside. I’ll make room. Isn’t that enough?!” Richard panicked. Just like when he was younger, he aggressively pulled me into a tight embrace. He threw the photo on the floor and stepped on it with his dress shoes to prove a point. “Look, I don’t care about this old picture at all. “Stop making a scene. Be a good girl.” I pushed him away with every ounce of strength I had. I slapped him hard across the face. I was done being “good.” “Clara, stop right there!” I grabbed the suitcase packed with gold bars and bolted faster than a rabbit. 06 Richard chased me to the top of the stairs, yelling down at our sons. “Wyatt! Cole! Stop your mother! “She wants a divorce!” Wyatt and Cole were standing in the living room, frantically making calls to locate Stella. Hearing this, Wyatt stepped in my way, immediately shifting the blame. “Mom, we’re dealing with a massive crisis here. What kind of tantrum are you throwing now?” I slapped my eldest son’s hand away. “Don’t call me Mom. I don’t have a son like you!” My second son, Cole, stepped up to block me, looking at me like I was insane. “Mom, Stella is missing. Wyatt and I are busy looking for her. Can you please not add to the chaos right now? “Doesn’t Dad spoil you enough? “Why are you suddenly demanding a divorce and disowning Wyatt? “You’re not going to disown me too, are you?” I was furious, suffocating from the injustice. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I screamed, “Yes, I’m disowning you too! “Husband, sons—I don’t want any of you! “Since you care about Stella so much, go call Valerie your mother! “I’m stepping out so your perfect little family of five can live happily ever after. Are you satisfied?!” I had laid all their dirty secrets bare. Yet, the brothers didn’t look an ounce guilty. Cole simply fell silent for a moment before offering a breezy smile. “Mom, is that why you’re mad? “We didn’t tell you who Stella’s mother was because we knew your imagination would run wild. “Dad hasn’t spoken to Aunt Valerie in years. “We hadn’t even kept in touch with Stella. “It wasn’t until half a month ago when Stella called, crying that her mom passed away from a severe illness and left her all alone. She wanted to return to the States. I had almost forgotten what she looked like. “Why are you being so petty? “Aren’t you afraid of becoming a laughingstock to our friends and family?” My son was a real wordsmith. I felt chilled to the bone, yet I wanted to laugh. “So now it’s my fault?” No wonder the three of them wanted me to make her my goddaughter. Her real mom was dead. They needed me to be her new emotional blood bank and shower her with maternal love. The thought of spending the next twenty years treating Valerie’s daughter like a princess made me shake with rage. I had to run! Whoever wanted to be the martyr could do it, but I absolutely refused! 07 Olivia and Maya heard the commotion and rushed into the living room. They pretended to play peacemakers, trying to calm everyone down. But under their breath, they whispered to me: “Mom, weren’t we supposed to fake our deaths together? “Why are you going off-script?” I felt a surge of sorrow and whispered back: “Plans changed. “I got caught raiding the gold. “What else could I do? I have a hundred gold bars in this suitcase. I couldn’t exactly put them back. “Years ago, I failed to get a divorce because I didn’t have any money of my own. “I will absolutely not make the same mistake twice.” Olivia told me not to panic and quickly came up with a plan. “Take the gold and drive toward Mount Rainier first. “We’ll follow right behind you.” I nodded. I dramatically shoved Olivia away, putting on a show of utter despair. “Nobody try to stop me! I’m getting this divorce today!” Olivia cried out, “Ouch!” and dramatically collapsed to the floor. Maya lunged forward and hugged my leg. “Mom, calm down! You need to calm down!” I put on a show of kicking Maya. “Get off me! I’m leaving right now!” Maya’s acting skills were Oscar-worthy. Taking my fake kick, she exaggeratedly rolled across the floor three times. Richard couldn’t stand it anymore and roared, “Let her go! She’s being completely unreasonable! “Throwing away her husband and kids at her age. I want to see how many days she lasts out there on her own!” I wasn’t that old. I was fifty. I had plenty of time left to start over. If I waited until I was seventy to leave, that would be too late. Richard was absolutely certain that after throwing a fit for a few days, I’d come crawling back. But I was going to pull a vanishing act. And even if I “died,” I wasn’t going to let Valerie’s daughter have it easy. I was going to bury a thorn so deep in Richard’s heart that every time he looked at Stella, he would be reminded of my death. Olivia had given me the perfect idea: “I have a plan. You need to ‘die’ right on their path to rescuing Stella. “Make them suffer for the rest of their lives.” 08 That day, Wyatt and Cole finally got a lead on Stella’s whereabouts. All three men, Richard included, rushed off to save her. Olivia called me: “Mom, the window is open. “You can make your exit now. “Turns out, Stella was never kidnapped. “She quietly took a bus to the Mount Rainier tourist resort right after landing, purposely turning off her phone to make Richard and the boys panic. “Since she wants to play games, let’s give her a real show.” I agreed. I intentionally drove my car along the winding coastal highway. Suddenly, CRASH! My car slammed into the guardrail perched on the edge of the cliff, teetering precariously. At any moment, it could plunge into the ocean. Even though Olivia assured me she had hired divers waiting in the water below to extract me, the sensation of staring death in the face was terrifying. I was so scared I desperately wanted those three men to rush to my side. I remembered the pain of childbirth feeling just like this. Back then, Richard had placed our twin boys by my bed and excitedly kissed my forehead. “Honey, look, you gave me two beautiful sons. “You suffered so much for these brats. “I promise I’ll make them treat you like a queen when they grow up. “If they ever disrespect you, I’ll beat them senseless.” But now, as I sat in a car dangling off a cliff, I called Richard. He heartlessly declined the call. I called three times. He rejected every single one. I called my eldest son, Wyatt. He picked up, but before I could even speak, he snapped impatiently, “Mom, I don’t have time for this right now. “Whatever it is, I’ll call you back later.” Then, he hung up. I pinned my last shred of hope on my youngest son, Cole. His tone was even more irritable: “Mom, can you stop spamming our phones? “Wyatt, Dad, and I are dealing with a life-or-death emergency right now. “If you’re regretting the divorce, just go back home and wait.” Before I could even scream the word “Help,” the line went dead. In that moment, my heart turned to ice. I realized that even if I were genuinely dying in a car crash, they wouldn’t come to my side. These were the three men I had served for half my life. When the car finally plummeted off the cliff, my heart was cold. So freezing, bitterly cold.

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My childhood best friend and high school crush, Mason, loved to put me down. He told me for the millionth time that I was too loud, too annoying, and not “girly” enough. He said no guy would ever actually like me. He told me to look at Chloe, the most popular girl in school. She was soft, elegant, and quiet. But little did he know, that same popular girl was currently staring at my mouth with deep contemplation. “I heard you talk so much you could make a mute person speak?” She offered me a grand to go harass her younger brother, who was on the autism spectrum, and get him to say just one sentence. Chloe was too naive. Unconventional problems require unconventional solutions. I walked to the very back of the classroom and lightly tapped on the quiet boy’s desk. “Aren’t you going to explain to everyone? What happened last night when you snuck into my room and licked my feet while I was sleeping?” His eyes flew open, and his icy facade shattered completely. “I did not.” I turned around confidently and flashed a brilliant smile at the popular girl. “Pay up.” 01 “Aren’t you going to explain to everyone? What happened last night when you snuck into my room and licked my feet while I was sleeping?” The moment the words left my mouth, the entire classroom descended into a deathly silence. The gloomy boy, who was always looking down in the corner, slowly widened his eyes. The icy mask on his face cracked. “I did not.” Chloe crossed the room in three quick strides. There was no disgust in her eyes, only utter, unadulterated admiration. I thought she was just joking around before, but she transferred the money to my CashApp without a second thought. As she sent the money, the famously aloof and beautiful popular girl’s hands were actually trembling. She grabbed my arm like I was her last lifeline. “Master, please, save my brother.” She told me her parents had taken Ezra to see every top psychologist in the state, and they all gave the same answer. “The best solution is to find someone his age to help him experience the joy of being a teenager.” But Ezra despised anyone coming near him, except for his family. At our age, kids care too much about their pride. Nobody wanted to deal with a grumpy, silent guy who rejected everyone. “If you keep bothering him, I’ll give you an extra thousand for every sentence you get him to say.” Chloe held my hands, looking at me like I was her savior. I held her hands, looking at the thousand dollars, feeling like I was looking at a living, breathing ATM. It’s just bothering someone, right? I was an expert at that. Since elementary school, in the eyes of every teacher, I was the reincarnation of a buzzing fly. In middle school, just to get me to shut up, my homeroom teacher made me sit next to a student who was hard of hearing. Eventually, I learned sign language and secretly chatted with my deskmate under the desk. My hands flew so fast it looked like I was casting ninja hand signs. It was terrifying. When my deskmate got excited, his fingers almost cramped up. The teacher called my mom and told her I could strike up a conversation with a stray dog on the street, suggesting she take me to see a doctor. This job was practically tailor-made for me. Plus, Ezra was gorgeous. I turned to look at Ezra. After saying those three words, he had already lowered his head again. He seemed annoyed with himself for instinctively speaking up, and was currently presenting me and his sister with the top of his dark hair. Mason, my childhood friend who had been completely ignored, stubbornly leaned over. Seeing me accept Chloe’s money, he reached out to snatch my phone without a word. “Avery, we should be focusing on studying right now. Stop messing around with shady people.” The popular girl, who he had just been calling a goddess a minute ago, turned around. Her eyes went cold, returning to her usual aloof demeanor. “Who are you calling shady?” Mason choked, suddenly at a loss for words, and I shook off his arm. I never realized before how much of a coward Mason was—only tough when he thought he had the upper hand. Mason wanted to say something else, but the bell rang, and I skipped back to my seat. That very day, Chloe used the power of money to get me seated right next to Ezra. “Mr. Davis, my brother’s special needs mean the main reason he’s here is to make friends. Avery is the perfect person to be his friend.” “It’s getting hotter, I really think the school should install some AC units.” The teacher shut his mouth. When I moved next to Ezra, he was still sleeping with his head on the desk. Mason turned his head from the side to look at me, his glare so intense it felt like it could burn a hole through me. I stared at Ezra’s neck for an entire period. He was clearly awake; he just wouldn’t lift his head to avoid dealing with me as his deskmate. How interesting. 02 During the break after the second period, I leaned in close to his ear and muttered. “Ezra, did you know your neck is so pale? It looks like a peeled hard-boiled egg… I kind of want to take a bite…” Maybe I got too close. Ezra jolted and whipped his head up, looking at me in horror. I pulled out my phone, snapped a picture of his face, and sent it to his sister. How does this look like a kid with autism? Isn’t this pretty entertaining? His little expressions were even more animated than mine. But over the next few periods, I learned just how difficult Ezra could be. No matter what I said, he sat there like a log, completely motionless. By the time the final bell rang, my mouth was dry, but I was thoroughly amused. Because no one had ever listened to me talk this much without calling me an annoying idiot. Even if I wasn’t getting paid for this, I felt like I had found a soulmate. I watched Ezra slowly close his textbook with his pale, slender fingers and let out a scoff. “What were you pretending for during that English class?” Ezra’s fingers stiffened. He glanced at me sideways and turned to walk out the door. I grabbed my backpack and hurried after him. His sister told me during the break that their family driver was taking me home today. Someone violently yanked my backpack. I was choked so hard my eyes rolled back. I turned around to see Mason standing behind me with a dark scowl. “Can’t you see he doesn’t want anything to do with you? Avery, have you no shame?” This was the second time. The second time today. Even though he was the guy I’d had a crush on for years, I couldn’t tolerate him constantly insulting me. I swung my backpack up and smashed it hard into his face. Mason looked at me in shock, my chest heaving. “What is wrong with you? When I hung around you, you said I had no shame. When I hang around someone else, you still say I have no shame.” “What did you say this morning? You said it’s shameless for a girl to always make dirty jokes.” I laughed bitterly. I didn’t even want to bring this up with him. He was the one who used to laugh hysterically when I made dirty jokes on our walk home every day. I thought he liked that kind of humor. I stayed up all night studying pickup lines and dirty jokes just to get him to talk to me more. And I ended up becoming the biggest simp in school, known for my dirty mouth. He was so hard to please. He could go to hell for all I cared. I shook off his arm and, seeing Ezra about to disappear from view, quickly chased after him. “Ezra, why didn’t you wait for me?” I tilted my head and asked him. Of course, Ezra didn’t answer. I turned to look at a nearby convenience store and ordered him. “Stand here. Don’t move.” I was amazed to find that he actually stood right there. I walked up and circled him once. “Wait for me. I’m going to buy something. If you leave, I’ll tell your sister you secretly kissed me.” Ezra looked up at me. This time, he clearly wasn’t as shocked as he was this morning, but his dark eyes still stared at me in confusion. When I came out of the convenience store with popsicles, I immediately spotted Ezra standing obediently by the trash can. Tsk. I narrowed my eyes. I always thought I liked the sunny, athletic type like Mason. How come a gloomy, obedient puppy like Ezra was so damn cute too? I thought about it while licking my popsicle. And finally came to a conclusion. It’s not that I have a specific “type.” I’m just purely shallow and like hot guys. 03 I shoved a popsicle into his hand. Ezra didn’t grab it, and it fell to the ground with a splat. He kept walking forward, ignoring me. I picked up the popsicle, ran after him, and shoved it back into his hand. It fell to the ground again. I was getting annoyed. This brat. I caught up to him in three strides and yanked his collar open. Ezra finally lost his cool. He clutched his collar and took two steps back, looking at me in shock. I grinned mischievously and handed the popsicle back. He took it. We walked side-by-side, but Ezra just held the popsicle, not eating it. So I leaned in close and whispered to him. “Don’t be shy. I won’t tell anyone you like pink…” Ezra snapped the popsicle in half and shoved it into his mouth, speeding up his pace. See? When people are embarrassed, they always pretend to be busy. If they have water, they drink; if they have a popsicle, they suck on it. I watched Ezra slowly licking the popsicle and giggled. “Ezra, did you know that popsicles can be used to cool down? When it’s hot, you just shove it up a cow’s…” Ezra stopped eating. He lowered the popsicle, his lips flushed red from the cold, and just stared at me quietly. Looks like he was out of options against me. I felt a little awkward; maybe that topic was a bit too gross. I was about to change the subject when Ezra spoke his second sentence of the day. “Pig.” I froze, then was overcome with ecstatic joy. “Right! It’s a pig’s behind! I remembered it wrong!” “Ezra!! We have so much in common! You watch those trashy low-budget videos too!” I thought the autistic kid Ezra didn’t use the internet, but it turns out he was a seasoned netizen. I cheered happily. I had truly found my soulmate. Getting out of the luxury car, I waved goodbye enthusiastically to the popular girl. When I turned around, I almost had a heart attack. Mason was standing at the entrance to my apartment building, his eyes icy. “Does your mom know? That you’re hanging out with a guy who’s sick in the head.” I pushed past him. “Are you sick in the head?” Mason’s expression relaxed slightly. He reached out as if to grab my arm, but still didn’t stop lecturing me. “A guy like Ezra clearly has mental issues. You think everyone has a temper as good as mine? You’ve been noisy since we were kids, and if you keep annoying him…” I squeezed the melted popsicle in my hand hard, squirting the sticky juice right into his face. He let out a yell and stumbled backward, triggering the motion-sensor lights in the stairwell. Mason glared at me, the sweet, sticky juice dripping down his face. “Are you crazy?!” I pulled out a tissue, wiped my fingers, and walked past him. “You call other people sick, but I think you’re the sickest one of all.” Mason turned his head. I had already turned and was walking up the stairs. The next day, during a break, I asked for Ezra’s Snapchat. He actually responded to me. “No.” I picked up my phone to take a picture of him. He frowned and swatted it away. I reached out to snatch his phone from his pocket. Ezra reacted with horror, as if I was trying to grab his crotch, and instantly took two steps back. While we were messing around, Mason knocked on my desk. “Avery, I won’t hold yesterday against you. My mom made sweet and sour ribs tonight. Let’s walk home together after school.” I stopped tormenting Ezra and gave Mason a side-eye. Is he crazy? Did he not understand what I said yesterday? I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him. I turned my head and saw that Ezra had already stood up and walked out the classroom door. I took a deep breath, turned, and chased after him. Ezra was standing outside the classroom, stiff as a board like an idiot. I guessed he wanted to avoid me, but didn’t know where to go, so his brain short-circuited. I found it amusing and reached out to poke him. “Hey, you really won’t add me?” He didn’t speak, just stood there stiffly until the bell rang. “Hey, the teacher’s here.” I tugged his sleeve, but Ezra didn’t move an inch. “You two, what are you doing standing out here?” The music teacher frowned. I looked at Ezra standing there like a block of wood, then looked at the music teacher. “Mr. Smith, Ezra has a… stomachache.” 04 Ezra’s pupils trembled slightly, surprised by my casual lie. The teacher waved his hand, telling me to take him to the nurse’s office. I’m tone-deaf. My ability to escape music class relied entirely on Ezra being a good student in the teacher’s eyes. He let me drag him forward like a rock. Passing by the window, I saw Mason looking out with a dark expression. “Ezra, you’ve never skipped class before, have you?” I pried his hand open. The boy’s palm was warm. A flutter went through my heart, and I shamelessly shoved my own hand into his. He didn’t shake me off. I pulled him through the small alleyway across from the school gates and found my favorite diner. The owner cheerfully brought over a bowl of noodles. “Brought a friend, huh? Isn’t it class time right now?” I smiled brightly. “Yeah, we skipped class to come here.” Ezra’s breathing stopped. He raised his hand to cover my mouth, looking horrified, wishing he could force the words back down my throat. I was giggling uncontrollably. Ezra was so expressive, so cute. He totally hit all my weak spots. I brought over two small bowls. “Half for you, half for me, besties forever we’ll be.” Ezra frowned at the bowl of noodles and didn’t say anything. I thought he was grossed out by me, but he surprisingly handed his phone over. I understood what he meant. He was saying he had money and could buy two bowls. But the truth was, I just couldn’t finish it all. I had eaten breakfast, how could I possibly eat a whole bowl of noodles? I took the opportunity to grab his phone and added my own Snapchat. Ezra’s hand paused, but he didn’t stop me. Ezra ate very quietly. Even the most ordinary bowl of noodles looked elegant when he ate it. When we finished, I wiped my mouth, grabbed his hand, and ran. Ezra was confused. He stumbled after me until we were out of the alley, and I turned around. The boy’s eyes were terrifyingly bright. It seemed he had never done anything so rebellious before. His heart was beating fast; even standing face-to-face, I could hear it. He grabbed me and tried to walk back, his eyes determined. I shook off his hand. “We already dined and dashed. Going back now would be so embarrassing.” Ezra pursed his lips, looking at me silently. He wasn’t angry; his eyes were full of helpless indulgence, but also a firm sense of bottom-line principles. I grinned at him. “If you go back, you have to tell the owner, ‘I’m sorry, boss… we came to pay,’ and then I’ll go back.” Ezra stood at the entrance of the alley. He agonized for a full five minutes before finally resigning himself to his fate, grabbing my hand and walking back. The owner was wiping tables. Seeing us standing at the door like statues, she froze. I nudged him. “Speak.” Ezra’s palms were sweating profusely, gripping my hand so hard it turned red. The tips of his ears were startlingly red too. I thought he was going to give up. But the next second, I heard Ezra’s clear, cold voice, stuttering slightly. “I’m sorry, ma’am… we’re here to pay.” 05 The owner was stunned. She took the rag and wiped her hands, looking at me in confusion: “What?” I finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, bending over. I had the owner on Venmo, and I always paid her directly through the app. Including the homeroom teacher, I had also texted him to excuse Ezra. But he was so gullible, he believed whatever I said. Ezra looked a bit unhappy. His lips moved, and without another word, he turned and walked away. I chased after him, chattering non-stop: “Oh my god, I’m sorry! I just wanted to get you to say a few more words!” “Ezra, your voice is really nice, you should talk more.” “Ezra, repeat after me: Avery is so pretty, I like Avery.” Ezra’s ears turned even redder. He stopped abruptly. I crashed into his back, caught off guard. He turned his head, looked at me for two seconds, and spat out two words: “Shameless.” I burst out laughing. “Ezra, you sound so cute when you talk.” He clearly wanted to scold me for being shameless like Mason did, but he phrased it so politely. Even though he said that, I was still laughing happily. He had probably never met a girl as thick-skinned as me in his life. Ezra simply ignored me and kept walking forward with a huff. That evening, the popular girl transferred $10,000 to me. “Ezra spoke at home today! He asked me: ‘Why do Dad’s shoes smell so bad?’” “Master, you are the lucky star of our whole family!” I fell back on my bed laughing, imagining Ezra’s frowning face. It was almost too cute. I pulled out my phone to text Ezra. But my ringtone went off. I hung up in annoyance—it was Mason again. After I blocked his number and Snapchat, he started calling me from his mom’s phone. I lived across from Mason, and his mom was really nice to me. She and my mom were good friends. No matter how rebellious I was, I couldn’t bring myself to block an elder. I rubbed my temples in frustration and tossed the phone aside. What is wrong with this guy? Since we were kids, I chased after him, and he never called me once. I was always the one bothering him. I swiped open my chat history with Mason. It was almost entirely my one-sided output, while he would only reply with a “yeah” or “oh” after hundreds of messages. As I backed out, I noticed a message from Ezra. I thought he would be as cold online as he was in person, but ever since we added each other on Snapchat, he replied to every message I sent. Even if it was just a simple one or two words, I felt unprecedented emotional validation. He even started stealing my emojis to reply to me. Though he stopped after I sent him a particularly inappropriate one. But it turns out the autistic kid Ezra was just quiet in person; he was quite enthusiastic on the internet. … “Good morning, Ezra!” I greeted him with a bright smile. The aloof boy didn’t speak, just glanced up at me. I felt a bit strange. Was he being a bit too quiet today? The next second, I saw the breakfast on my desk: “You brought this for me?” I asked in surprise. Ezra nodded, then shook his head: “My sister.” He still spoke very little, but I understood. “Well, thank your sister for me! The soup dumplings from this place are super hard to get.” I was eating, my mouth greasy, and Ezra handed me a tissue. Mason walked over, glaring at me with annoyance: “How long are you going to keep this up? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t reply to my texts.” “We live so close, but you act like a rabbit, I can’t even catch a glimpse of you.” I put away the dumplings on my desk: “Since you know I’m avoiding you, then stop showing up in front of me.” Mason’s chest heaved with anger: “Do you really think a rich kid like him would ever actually fall for you?” I paused mid-chew. Ezra also stopped pulling out a tissue. He looked up at Mason blankly. I slammed my hand on the desk and stood up. “Mason! We’re all students. Your mind is way too dirty!” “All you think about is romance and dating. Is that what a high school student should be like? As a classmate, not only do you not help others, you actually try to stir up drama!” Mason opened his mouth, but I immediately shut him down. “Or maybe, you’re the one who’s dating, which is why your head is full of these thoughts?” Mason was fuming: “Avery! I’m only saying this because I consider you a good friend! A guy from Ezra’s background can have any girl he wants—” Before he could finish, the homeroom teacher’s icy voice rang out behind him. “Mason, come to my office right now!” I was dying of laughter. But when I turned my head, I saw Ezra staring intently at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. Before I could speak, he pursed his lips and turned his head away. I rubbed my forehead. Great, the little prince is mad again. “You really don’t need my help. I misspoke. I’m the one—I need your help! Could you let me copy your homework?” Ezra ignored me, so I tugged on his sleeve and shook it. “That abstract meme video you shared with me yesterday, I can’t find it. Could you send it to me again?” He still ignored me. I sighed and resignedly laid my head on the desk. Not two minutes later, my phone vibrated. I pulled it out of my desk cubby and saw a Venmo transfer from Ezra. [Keep helping me. I have money. Don’t talk to him, I hate him.] A direct, sweet puppy like this, who also uses the power of money, who wouldn’t fall for that? I clutched my heart and accepted the money without a second thought. The popular girl said she wanted to treat me to dinner, saying her parents wanted to thank me in person. Ezra had been talking more and more at home recently. Although it was just brief sentences, it gave them hope. I waved my hand: “No problem at all.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “407070”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the morning of my wedding, the makeup artist looked around the luxury hotel suite. Suddenly, she completely scrapped the elegant bridal look we had previously agreed upon and painted my face into a disaster. My fiancé laughed and asked her, “What, are you trying to make me marry a clown?” It turned out, the expensive makeup artist was my fiancé’s ex-girlfriend. Seeing their deeply familiar banter, I wiped off the makeup and called off the wedding right then and there. Carter tried to stop me, but Sierra suddenly stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. That was when I noticed that underneath her surgical mask, she had already done her own makeup to absolute perfection. She wasn’t just here to ruin my look. She was here to steal the groom. I raised an eyebrow. Stealing the groom means you have to take over the whole package. The $100,000 final bill for this luxury wedding reception was supposed to be paid in full by the bride’s family. Let’s see if she can take over that, too. 01 Last night, our two families stayed up late finalizing the details of the wedding. I barely got any sleep. Today, I had to wake up at the crack of dawn. So, when the makeup artist arrived to greet me, I was still groggy. The moment she walked in, she began evaluating the hotel suite. When her eyes landed on the diamond bridal set and the expensive heirloom jewelry laid out on the table, her hands paused over her makeup kit. “Wow, Lauren. Your fiancé must treat you so well! Booking such a high-end hotel for the wedding, preparing such a stunning diamond set… You’re the envy of everyone!” “Must have been incredibly expensive, right? You’re so lucky to have found a man who is so generous with his money.” Hearing this, a wave of annoyance washed over me. Every single expense for this wedding was paid for by my family. She didn’t know the first thing about our arrangement, yet she assumed it was the groom’s money. But I didn’t feel the need to explain myself to a stranger. I just nodded and let it go. Suddenly, she unzipped her makeup bag aggressively and looked at me with a half-smile. “Lauren, why do you think women these days love stealing things that belong to other people?” “Are they just born desperate?” Honestly, hearing those unprovoked, bizarre comments, I was getting angry. But it was too late to find a replacement makeup artist. After she applied the foundation, I drifted off to sleep. I kept my eyes closed to rest while she worked. After all, she was a senior stylist from a reputable salon. I wasn’t worried about her stealing my jewelry. I figured if she needed me to open my eyes or adjust anything, she would communicate with me. But when I finally opened my eyes, the stranger in the mirror made me jump. Frowning, I was just about to ask what on earth she was doing. I was already calculating how to demand compensation from her salon for such a massive blunder. But when I looked at her, the makeup artist was looking down, desperately trying to hold back her laughter. Her shoulders were shaking uncontrollably, as if she were looking at the most hilarious joke in the world. A cold realization began to sink in. This was entirely intentional. I hadn’t done anything to offend her. As I frowned, trying to figure out why she would sabotage me, someone walked into the room. The moment my eyes shifted, the girl couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst out laughing. “Hahaha!” Still laughing, she ran and hid behind Carter, who had just walked through the door. Her small hands gripped the back of his suit jacket. “I’m… I’m sorry, Carter! I didn’t mean to laugh!” “I just didn’t expect Lauren’s face to be so… uniquely suited for this kind of makeup!” With that, she covered her face, giggling uncontrollably. Watching my ridiculous reflection, I realized her hiding behind Carter was laced with pure malice. And hearing her call him “Carter” with such intimacy… the bad feeling in my gut skyrocketed. My intuition is rarely wrong. This girl knew Carter. And they were close. I didn’t want to assume the worst, but I turned to Carter, my brow furrowed. “What is the meaning of this?” “You two know each other? What kind of stunt is this? Is today a wedding or a circus act?” Carter looked at my face and froze for a second. He helplessly looked back at the girl hiding behind him, yet he didn’t utter a single word of reprimand. My initial frustration was instantly extinguished by a bucket of ice water. Carter casually leaned against a chair, looking at the girl with total familiarity. “You were doing just fine the last few times. Why are you dropping the ball today?” “What, are you trying to make me marry a clown?” He looked at her, amused. The girl shrank her neck playfully, stuck her tongue out, and made a face. “You asked me to do your bride’s makeup. I can’t be that generous.” After saying that, she shot me a mocking half-smile. She was waiting for me to make a fool of myself. I picked up my phone and scrolled for my backup makeup artist’s number. “Make her apologize to me.” “I’m calling someone else to redo this. Whenever it’s fixed, that’s when I’ll go downstairs.” “We can discuss her compensation to me later.” I didn’t even care how they knew each other right now. Today was my wedding day. My parents had invited important business partners and associates. I wasn’t going to let things fall apart at the last minute. Carter and I had met through a mutual setup. I came from a wealthy, established family. Carter’s background wasn’t great. He grew up in a single-parent household, raised entirely by his mother. He was capable, though, and had good career prospects. But in this expensive metropolitan city, he still had no house and no car. Even with a decent salary, he wasn’t exactly a hot commodity in the local dating market. I chose him because I valued his ambition, his looks, and his potential. But to my surprise, hearing my demands, Carter frowned. He reached out and pushed my phone down. “Is that really necessary?” “You just naturally look like that.” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. 02 The girl heard him and let out a sweet, delighted giggle. “Carter, you can’t talk to a girl like that!” “After all this time, you’re still so brutally honest!” Even if I were an idiot, I could tell this girl’s relationship with Carter was far from simple. She was likely an ex. But if I couldn’t recognize his ex, couldn’t he? From choosing the salon to the trial runs to finalizing the look, Carter had been with me every step of the way. Since he never brought it up, was he trying to give his ex some business, or were there still lingering feelings? I didn’t want to dig into it. It was just going to make me sick. I grabbed a bottle of makeup remover, walked straight into the bathroom, and scrubbed my face clean. Then I called my parents and told them I needed to reconsider the wedding. If I went through with this today, I knew I would regret it. We hadn’t signed the marriage license yet anyway. I didn’t avoid the two of them when I made the call. Carter heard every word. His face instantly darkened. The breezy, amused expression he had worn vanished into a storm cloud. He opened his mouth to speak, but a pair of soft, delicate hands grabbed him. The girl wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. “Carter! If Lauren doesn’t want to marry you, I will!” “Propose to me right now!” “Didn’t you promise me before that I was the only woman you’d ever marry?” With that, right in front of me, she stood on her toes and kissed his lips. But I didn’t miss it—when her eyes flicked toward the diamond set and the expensive jewelry on the table, they were filled with pure greed. Carter stiffened. He turned his head slightly, his eyes flashing with a mix of struggle and conflict. When he finally spoke, his tone carried a mix of guilt and a strange, subconscious thrill that he didn’t even try to hide. He looked at me. “Let Sierra stand in for you today and clean up this mess.” “You will still be my wife in the end. Don’t worry.” “Go downstairs and tell your parents. Don’t make a scene and embarrass everyone.” “But of course, you can throw a fit if you want.” Carter was absolutely certain that I would swallow my pride for the sake of my parents’ reputation. He knew today’s guest list was filled with my family’s prestigious network. After delivering his ultimatum, he grabbed Sierra’s hand to leave. I finally remembered her name: Sierra Jenkins. Sierra looked at me with triumphant arrogance. She stared me down, her lips curling into a silent, provocative smirk. She looked like she had just won the lottery. That was when I noticed that beneath her mask, she had already applied flawless, stunning makeup. Compared to the clownish mess she put on my face, it was night and day. Even her hair was already styled in the exact elegant updo I had requested for myself. Oh, this was premeditated. “Sorry, Lauren. I just didn’t want to leave any regrets in my life!” “If you want to go to my salon and file a complaint, be my guest!” Seeing her utterly shameless attitude, my anger peaked. 03 There’s no denying that Sierra pissed me off. But I knew getting angry wouldn’t solve the problem. When I went downstairs and told my parents what happened, they were in utter disbelief. They hurriedly excused themselves from the guests and pulled me aside. Seeing that I was dead set against marrying Carter, my parents sighed, looking guilty. “Sweetheart, we had no idea the Hayes boy was this unreliable!” “We thought he was a good kid, worth investing in. Looks like we were wrong!” “Forget it! Lauren Blake doesn’t need to beg a guy like Carter Hayes for anything!” I breathed a sigh of relief. I had been worried my parents wouldn’t agree. The guests were all high-profile figures. I was afraid my sudden cancellation would humiliate them. My parents had originally planned to use this wedding to introduce Carter to their elite network. Looks like that won’t be necessary. This high-end hotel required an upfront deposit, but the massive final balance was to be paid after the reception. When our families initially discussed the finances, it was decided that the Hayes family would pay the deposit. My family would pay the balance—$100,000—as part of my dowry. The deposit was $5,000. The balance was $100,000. To save face, Carter’s mother insisted that Carter sign the contract with the hotel himself. The contract stipulated that the bride’s side would cover the balance, but it never explicitly named me. Now that the “bride” was Sierra, Carter’s mother could ask Sierra for the money. Carter called me, demanding I send someone up with the diamond set and the jewelry for Sierra. After all, her hair was done, and she was just waiting for the accessories. Hearing Sierra’s smug laughter through the phone, I hung up and blocked his number. Was he joking? My family paid for that jewelry. Why would I hand it over to dress up his new bride? When no one came up to deliver the jewels, Carter got angry. He decided to teach me a lesson. He ordered the staff to take down all our custom wedding posters in the lobby. He paid a rush fee to replace them with photos of him and Sierra. The bride’s name on the welcome board was changed to Sierra. He originally hadn’t planned to change any of it; he just wanted Sierra to symbolically take my place at the altar. But now, it was his warning to me. Little did he know, this played right into my hands. Now, the bride was thoroughly and legally Sierra. The debt collectors wouldn’t be coming for me. I’ve always been a rational person, which is why I chose to cut my losses immediately. Even though I did have feelings for Carter, sunk costs shouldn’t dictate major life decisions. 04 Seeing her photos displayed on the giant LED screens, Sierra was absolutely ecstatic. She posted dozens of updates on Instagram and TikTok, showing off her high-end luxury wedding. She was wearing the custom designer wedding gown my parents had bought for me at a premium price. Even though it didn’t fit her right, she couldn’t resist finding me to gloat. Her words were dripping with passive-aggressive venom. “Lauren, I think this dress actually flatters my figure better than yours!” “Carter is so silly… ordering a dress without checking my measurements. I’ll have to scold him later! He really doesn’t know how to take care of a girl. Such a typical clueless guy!” She smirked. When I didn’t react, she pressed harder. “Oh, right. Carter just hired a senior celebrity makeup artist for me. The kind that charges $2,000 an hour.” “He said, what kind of bride does her own makeup on her wedding day?” “That’s just how he is! Exactly like he used to be—never listens to reason.” “He doesn’t know how to save money at all. Please don’t mind him, Lauren! It’s such a shame you had to foot the bill for his extravagance today~” “If he acts like this in the future, just call me, and I’ll talk some sense into him!” “Lauren, thank you so much for your generosity today. You really fulfilled the dream Carter and I always had.” Sierra covered her mouth, giggling, her eyes locking onto mine with pure provocation. She was rubbing it in my face as loudly as possible. I let out a cold laugh. It seems Carter wasn’t entirely clueless. He just didn’t care enough to try when it came to me! When I was stuck with clown makeup, he told me I “just looked like that” and no expensive makeup artist could fix it. But for Sierra, he thought of everything. He even hired a celebrity stylist. But does he actually have the money to pay for it? 05 I went downstairs and found my bridesmaids. They were supposed to be up there with me, but because Carter’s family only had his mother to help, things were chaotic. I had sent them down to assist. Which was exactly how Sierra had slipped in unnoticed. We marched upstairs and cornered Sierra. We stripped the custom wedding gown right off her back. I’d rather throw it in the trash than let her wear it! Sierra was furious. Her triumphant little face twisted into indignation and tears. “Lauren, aren’t you taking this too far? Carter paid for all this! What right do you have to take it from me?” Because she assumed Carter had paid for the dress, she felt entitled to flaunt it in front of me. She assumed Carter had finally hit it big, and that she could use their past history to easily knock me out of the picture. Thinking about this, I suddenly felt a surge of anticipation. What will she do when she realizes she backed the wrong horse? This was getting entertaining. Having been forcefully stripped of the dress, Sierra felt humiliated and called Carter, sobbing. Carter dropped everything—ignoring the guests—and rushed upstairs. Seeing Sierra shivering in her undergarments, crying on the floor, his pupils constricted, and his handsome face contorted with rage. He stepped forward, stripped off his suit jacket, and wrapped it around her. Then he scooped her up bridal-style, kicked open the door, and carried her into a different dressing room. Before he left, he shot me a glare filled with impending fury. “Lauren Blake, you’re really something!” “I’m downstairs trying to entertain your father’s business partners to secure your family’s network, and this is how you treat me?” “Then entertain them yourselves!” His eyes were full of warning. He wanted me to compromise, to beg him to stay and network with my father’s connections. Did he really think he was some irresistible prize? Did he honestly believe those elite businessmen were here for him, and not out of respect for my father? To make Sierra happy and let her continue playing bride, Carter waved his hand and spent his last $15,000 in savings to secure a luxury gown on the spot. He paid a massive premium to have it delivered within twenty minutes. Renting that dress for one day cost him $15,000. Fifteen grand, just to soothe Sierra’s ego. Though it wasn’t as beautiful as mine, it was far better than average. This convinced Sierra even more that Carter was now a wealthy man. But Carter forgot one thing: he had just promised his new makeup artist $2,000. And he had just drained the last of his bank account. He didn’t actually think I was going to bail him out to save face, did he? Hilarious. When the new dress arrived, Sierra finally smiled through her tears. Her voice was nasally but thick with flirtation. “Carter, I’m going to punish you for this!” Carter’s voice softened. “How do you want to punish me?” “I called all my girlfriends to come! I’m so happy they get to witness our special day.” Sierra sat on the vanity stool, swinging her legs, stroking the high-end fabric of the new gown. “I’m just kidding, I could never really punish you!” “I’m punishing your ex by making her fund our dream wedding!” “Hehe, am I being too bad?” To spite me, and to show off in front of her friends, Sierra had asked the hotel kitchen to add several premium, off-menu dishes to every table. Each table’s additions cost about $1,000. For twenty tables, that was an extra $20,000 added to the bill. Carter couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, you’re pretty bad.” “It’s about time she bled a little money. She really isn’t as obedient as you.” 06 Carter was a man of his word. To punish my “disobedience,” he genuinely stayed on the second floor the entire time, keeping Sierra company while she got her makeup done. Even the newly hired makeup artist couldn’t stop praising how deeply in love they were. He thought his actions would make me insecure and force me to back down. Little did he know, my parents and I had already explained the situation to our guests, and everyone was quietly slipping out. Out of the twenty tables, only three or four remained occupied. They were all Carter’s relatives. They had no idea what was going on and were completely bewildered. The banquet food had been pre-ordered. Even if the guests left, the hotel was still serving the full twenty tables. Sierra wouldn’t save a single dime on the final bill. When Carter finally came downstairs and saw the ballroom nearly empty, his face turned black. “Lauren, even if you want to throw a tantrum, shouldn’t you consider the time and place? Do your parents know you’re acting like a child?” “Do you have any idea how much effort I put in today to entertain your side of the family?” Seeing my utter apathy, his anger flared. “Fine, Lauren. Have it your way!” Our argument drew the attention of the remaining guests. People exchanged awkward glances, afraid to speak. My parents looked furious but didn’t say a word to him. We were never going to see these people again; there was no point in arguing. Sierra finished her makeup. The stylist wanted to be paid. Since she was a last-minute emergency hire, she wasn’t going to wait until after the wedding to collect her fee. Carter told the makeup artist to come find me for the payment. Obviously, I told her no. The makeup artist realized what was happening and took a hardline stance, demanding Sierra and Carter pay up immediately. Out of options, Carter came to me, his tone significantly softer. “Lauren, stop this. I know you’re emotional today, but can you just pay her first?” “You’ve vented your anger enough. Just be reasonable, okay?” He was finally starting to panic. Why was he acting like a billionaire when he didn’t have a dime to his name? The more he panicked, the happier I felt. Ultimately, Carter’s mother had to pay the stylist. Handing over $2,000 made her heart bleed. However, upon learning that the bride had been swapped at the last minute, she wasn’t upset at all. In fact, she thought Carter had made a brilliant move. “That’s how you handle it! What kind of wife doesn’t submit to her husband? Back in my day, a woman like that would have been beaten to death! It’s good to teach her a lesson so she knows her place!” To spite me, Mrs. Hayes intentionally packed a $1,000 red envelope and shoved it into Sierra’s hands right in front of me. During the reception, she held Sierra’s hand, parading her around to all their relatives. 07 Carter’s relatives noticed the bride was clearly a different person, but by unspoken agreement, no one said a word. Everyone played dumb, pretending nothing was wrong. The wedding followed the pre-planned itinerary. Though the photos on the screens had changed, the ceremony went smoothly. Sierra happily stood at the altar and exchanged rings with Carter. Even when it came time for the wedding night, everyone conveniently ignored the absurdity of it all. I don’t know if Carter was genuinely drunk or just pretending, but he leaned into the mistake and spent his wedding night with Sierra. My parents were so furious they threw out all the gifts Carter had ever given me. Even though the marriage fell apart, Carter’s behavior was deeply repulsive. But strangely, I wasn’t that angry anymore. Carter had hidden his true colors so well before, which was why I developed feelings for him. Now that his mask had slipped, showing his true face, I just felt disgusted. Any lingering affection was quickly replaced by nausea. My parents, worried about hurting my feelings, spent the whole day walking on eggshells around me. Seeing that I truly didn’t care, they finally relaxed. Carter didn’t call me until after 10:00 AM the next day. His voice was laced with hungover exhaustion. “Did you go back to your parents’ house to sleep?” I couldn’t help but laugh. If I didn’t go home, was I supposed to stay and watch the two shameless cheaters consummate their fake marriage? Hearing my scoff, Carter snapped to his senses. His tone turned defensive and angry. “Lauren, are you still throwing a fit? We have to go explain everything to the relatives today. Pack your things and come to the new house.” “The hotel called me too. They want the final balance. This was originally your family’s responsibility, but since we’re married now, I’ll go with you to sort it out.” Carter clearly hadn’t grasped the reality of the situation. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I cursed him out, called him an idiot, and hung up the phone. You can’t afford the bill? Not my problem. In an excellent mood, I finished my breakfast and drove straight to Sierra’s salon. It was payback time.

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I woke up in the middle of the night, starving and unable to sleep, so I gave in and ordered some delivery. Because I was pregnant, I specifically added a note: [Pregnant and really craving pickles. Please add extra, thank you!] Not long after, there was a relentless knocking at my apartment door. Annoyed, I messaged the Dasher: [Just leave it at the door. Please don’t knock.] The Dasher replied: [I like knocking. What are you going to do about it?] The knocking continued for almost ten minutes. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and decided to go out and confront the driver. Just as I reached the door, a few lines of text floated across my vision: [This pregnant woman has no idea, does she? That’s not a person outside at all! It’s a black cat that’s turned into a monster. If she goes out, it’s going to rip her stomach open and she’ll die a horrible death!] [It’s purposely trying to lure the woman out. After all, a fetus is the most tender meat, perfect for it to feed on.] [Ugh, targeting pregnant women. She has it the worst; she’s the first victim.] 1 My whole body trembled, and the hand I had reached out to the doorknob fell back to my side. A black cat turned monster? That sounded completely absurd! But… I suddenly remembered something. I took a few steps back, pulled out my phone, and scrolled through the neighborhood Facebook group chat from a few days ago. Someone in the group had posted a “Lost Cat” flyer. They said their black cat had suddenly gone missing and asked everyone to keep an eye out for it. I remembered when I tapped on the photo in the chat, it had actually startled me. Because the cat was twice the size of a normal cat. And while its body and limbs were black, its face was much paler. Even worse… The cat’s facial features were incredibly eerie. Looking closely, it almost looked human. The cat in the photo seemed to be smiling. The more I looked at it, the creepier it got. I immediately closed the group chat. More text floated across my vision like comments on a livestream: [Why hasn’t she opened the door yet? I remember the first victim opened it without hesitating.] [Did she realize something?] [No way. Animals that turn into monsters look almost identical to normal humans from the outside. How could she tell?] [I can’t watch this part. Her stomach gets ripped open while she’s still alive!] These words filled me with panic. Meanwhile, the knocking at the door hadn’t stopped. I instinctively rubbed my belly and called my husband. He answered quickly. I stayed silent for a moment, took a deep breath, and kept my voice very low so whoever was outside wouldn’t hear: “Honey, when are you getting off work? I’m scared. There’s a delivery guy at the door who won’t stop knocking.” My husband replied, “It’s just a delivery guy! What’s there to be scared of? I’ll be home in 5 minutes! If he’s still there, I’ll chase him off.” I said urgently: “No, no, honey, do you remember what I told you? The black cat that apartment 501 lost, the one with the human-like face. I suspect the thing outside our door is that black cat, and it’s turned into a monster! It wants to eat our baby!” My husband suddenly burst out laughing: “Hahahaha, they say pregnancy makes you lose your mind, and you haven’t even had the baby yet but you’re already talking crazy! They found the cat from 501 ages ago. You’re overthinking things. If you’re scared, just stay put and wait for me to get home.” I wanted to say more, but he had already hung up. I slapped my forehead. He was right. If someone told me an animal had turned into a monster to hurt people, I’d just think they were running a fever. But right now, I was truly seeing these words hovering in the air. For my husband’s safety, I had to lie: [This delivery guy looks like he knows how to fight! Bring the security guard with you. One person might not be able to handle him!] Seeing my husband reply “okay,” I finally let out a sigh of relief. The comments: [She actually figured it out! But this cat monster just transformed and desperately needs nutrients. She definitely won’t escape.] [Ugh, she’s just minor cannon fodder. If she doesn’t die, how does the plot move forward?] [Yeah, there are no security cameras in this old apartment building. When she opens the door, the cat monster will rush in, bite her so she can’t move, and when her husband gets home, he’ll only find an empty stomach and his dead wife. Because the only evidence left will be cat prints, it’s too bizarre, so the FBI’s paranormal division gets involved, and the real story begins.] I finally grasped the gist of what these comments were saying. My death was just a plot device to introduce the paranormal division and get the case solved. So I was just the blurred-out corpse at the beginning of a crime show! I closed my eyes, trying hard to accept this reality. Suddenly, everything grew unusually quiet. I swallowed hard. The relentless knocking had stopped. I slowly stood up and walked to the door, wanting to see if the person outside had given up and left because I wasn’t answering. But when I pressed my eye to the peephole. All I could see was pitch black. That was weird. This peephole had night vision. Even if the hallway was dark, it shouldn’t be this black! Just as I was feeling confused, a voice sent a chill down my spine: “Ma’am, you’re pregnant, right? I was just joking with you earlier. Hehe, did I scare you?” 2 The person outside continued: “I hope I didn’t scare the baby. If the baby wants extra pickles, you should definitely eat more. I left the food at the door, come out and get it. I’m leaving now, got another delivery to make.” I heard clear footsteps walking away from my door. Once the footsteps faded away, I checked the peephole again. Still pitch black. The comments suddenly flooded in: [So scary! A cat’s pupils fully dilate when it’s excited or stimulated! She’s staring right into the cat’s pupil!] [So creepy! Cats really are liquid. Even after taking human form, it’s still so flexible.] [The cat monster’s head is pressed against the peephole, but its body is walking backward! Its neck is stretched out so long!] [What a smart monster. It even knows how to fake footsteps to trick the pregnant woman into coming out.] [This thing’s teeth and claws are incredibly sharp!] My eyes widened in terror. I shot back, getting as far away from the door as possible. My palms were drenched in sweat, and my heart was pounding furiously. A skritch, scratch sound came from outside the door. That thing was scratching at the door! Thinking about the comments saying the cat could stretch its neck, all the hair on my body stood on end. I kept telling myself to stay calm, preparing to dial 911 so the police could handle this. [Give it up, calling the cops is useless. They’ll just think it’s a prank call and won’t come.] [Look! It’s scratched deep gouges into the door! It’s getting impatient!] [Looks like it’s going to try a different way to get to the pregnant woman!] 3 I swallowed hard. A different way? What way? I was terrified and anxious. Why couldn’t the comments be more specific! Tap, tap, tap, tap. A hurried sound of footsteps suddenly appeared outside. I gathered my courage and moved closer to the door. If what the comments said was true and the black cat had other ways to get me, would I be safer if I took the opportunity while it was away from the door to escape outside the apartment building? After all, there were several BBQ places open downstairs. It was late, but there were still a lot of customers. But this time, I still wasn’t sure if those footsteps were meant to trick me… Just as I was thinking, I suddenly heard my husband’s voice: “Honey, open the door quickly! Your food is getting cold. Why didn’t you bring it inside?” My heart skipped a beat. I cautiously asked: “Did you see the delivery guy at the door? Did he leave? Also, didn’t I tell you to come up with the security guard? Where is he?” There was a few seconds of silence outside: “I didn’t see a delivery guy! He probably left a long time ago. I didn’t bring the security guard because I didn’t think it was necessary. Your husband is a big, strong man! What’s there to be afraid of?” I carefully checked the peephole. It was indeed my husband outside. Could those footsteps earlier have been him? I pressed my husband: “FaceTime me on WhatsApp right now. Show me that there’s no danger outside, and then pan the camera from your head to your toes.” I wasn’t going to overlook even the slightest abnormality with him. I quickly checked my messages, waiting for my husband to report back. My husband suddenly sighed: “Maya, what is going on with you the past few days? First you said someone else’s cat looked like a human, and now you’re saying a cat turned into a monster! Can you stop being so paranoid all the time?! I ask you to open the door, and you’re dragging your feet.” Before I could fully process this. I heard the sound of a key turning the lock on the front door. The comments floated by: [That should be her husband, right? I saw the cat crawl away when her husband showed up.] [That thing is way too fast. If a cat doesn’t want to make a sound, its footsteps are super light. It was gone before I could even see it clearly!] [Regardless, the pregnant woman is still in the most danger. She better hide. The black cat monster is definitely not interested in her husband.] Seeing the lock turning. I quickly ran into the bedroom, locked the door, and hid inside the closet. I covered my mouth, feeling my heart pounding violently. Whether my husband believed me or not. I had to make sure I was safe. Through the closet door, I heard my husband washing up while complaining about how I didn’t appreciate him. Listening to his voice. I gradually calmed down inside the closet. I even started to doubt myself a little. Was there really something wrong with my brain? I hadn’t seen the black cat with my own eyes. And the comments had vanished again. I had run away in such a panic earlier that I forgot to grab the spare bedroom key from the living room. I clung to a sliver of hope. Maybe it really was because my morning sickness had been so bad lately, causing me extreme anxiety, which led to hallucinations. When I saw my husband later, if there was nothing wrong with him, I would apologize to him. Not long after. My husband knocked on the bedroom door impatiently, then went to find the key to open it. I left a tiny crack in the closet doors, focusing all my attention on observing the outside. The door opened. Seeing nothing unusual behind my husband, I patted my chest, jokingly thinking to myself that maybe I really did need to see a doctor. I reached out, intending to push the closet door open and get out. A few comments flashed by: [You guys are so heartless! I can’t watch this! Don’t go out! That black cat followed your husband in!] [To the person above, didn’t we agree not to say anything? What’s wrong with you? Everyone else is discussing it elsewhere. That woman can probably see the comments.] [Exactly, we said the monster was looking through the peephole, and she backed away. We said she better hide, and she actually did!] My face went deathly pale. Because at this very moment, I saw a bizarre figure behind my husband. That thing clearly had human facial features, but its expression was vacant, and its limbs were twisted. Every time my husband took a step, it would crawl one step behind him, matching his footsteps perfectly. 4 If you didn’t listen carefully, you’d have no idea there was a second set of sounds in the house! I almost screamed out loud. My husband walked into the bedroom, still calling out for me: “Maya? What’s wrong? Where are you?” I didn’t dare answer him directly. Instead, I used my phone to warn him: [Don’t move! That thing really did turn into a monster!] [It’s right behind you! Don’t come near the closet, it’s looking for me!] [Take a few steps back, and it will step back with you. About three steps. After three steps, it’ll be outside the bedroom. Lock the door immediately!] The notification sound dinged a few times in my husband’s pocket. He pulled out his phone. He rolled his eyes in an exasperated way, then turned around. Then, a blood-curdling scream pierced my ears. I was so terrified tears streamed down my face. My husband is 6’0″. But when that thing locked eyes with him, it let out a bizarre cat yowl, then lunged, landing squarely on his back and latching onto his neck in a death grip. I originally wanted to go out and help him! But in that split second of hesitation and fear, my husband couldn’t break free. A chunk of flesh was torn from the right side of his neck. He clutched his neck, collapsing heavily onto the floor, blood gushing out. His eyes stared blankly at the closet, unmoving, as if accusing me of not saving him. My entire body shook uncontrollably. All I could do was watch helplessly as the monster used its claws to slice open his stomach. It was rooting around for his internal organs. What do I do? What do I do? Why did I have to encounter this kind of monster! I pinched my thigh hard. It hurt. It wasn’t a dream. I wanted so badly to escape, but my husband was lying dead right at the bedroom doorway, and the monster was chewing right next to him. [It’s over! Is this a dead end? Now she can only wait to die!] [Only the people from the paranormal division have the skills to subdue the monster. She definitely has no way of contacting them.] [It took the division a long time to figure out this was actually a house cat.] [This black cat monster is starving. Plus, since the guy saw its face, it wanted him dead. Sigh, if the pregnant woman had just waited to die obediently, her husband wouldn’t have died. Add her to the mix, and that’s three lives lost!] I bit my finger, forcing my eyes away from my husband’s torn stomach, and quickly typed out an emergency text to 911. To make the police believe me, I said a murderer had broken into my house and I was about to be killed. I had been misled by the comments earlier. Why would calling the police be useless? If the police witness what this monster looks like, it will trigger the paranormal division’s involvement. As soon as the text went through, a few messages popped up in the neighborhood Facebook group chat. It was the woman from 501: [Has anyone seen my cat?] [He snuck out to play and hasn’t come back for a long time. I’m worried he was taken by cat stealers. Please let me know if you see him! Thank you!] This message gave me a flash of inspiration. The comments said the paranormal division took a long time to realize the black cat was a pet. Could it be that the black cat monster, in order to better hunt for food, deliberately avoided exposing itself in front of its owner? I immediately messaged 501 privately: [The cat ran into my apartment! And it refuses to leave! Hurry up and come get it!] 501 showed as typing. I was burning with anxiety. Hurry up! Why is she typing so slowly! I urged her again: [Someone in my house is allergic to cats! Please hurry!] After sending the message, I looked up. Through the crack in the closet doors, I met a pair of entirely black eyes. It stared at me dead on, still chewing on something. My gaze shifted slightly downwards. I saw a piece of intestine dangling from its mouth. 5 My attention had been entirely on my phone. I hadn’t noticed it discovering me at all. My mouth fell open involuntarily, taking huge, greedy breaths of air, trying to make myself less afraid. But it was useless! I watched as it reached out and pried open the closet door. I pushed off with my feet and sprinted out as fast as I could. Before I could take more than a few steps, the thing had crawled right in front of me. It advanced on me step by step, continuously letting out a “meow, meow” sound. This cat’s meow was completely different from a normal cat’s. It sounded drawn out and chilling. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and started screaming at the top of my lungs. The “meow, meow” sounds grew more frequent. I took a step back, lost my footing, and slipped hard onto the floor. My stomach hurt terribly, but I had no time to worry about that. I tried to push myself up, but my hands slipped again. My hands were covered in bloody water… The monster had crawled onto me. I could even feel its breath. I turned my head away, unwilling to look. But my eyes met my husband’s. He still had a faint trace of life left. He moved his eyes to stare at me. I was so terrified I whipped my head back around. The next second, a gaping maw, dripping with blood, lunged at my neck. I fought back desperately, trying to pull the monster off. But I never expected this monster to be so incredibly strong. I couldn’t move it an inch. In the end, I could only watch as it ripped my stomach open. I was suffocating from the pain. Using the last ounce of my willpower, I uttered my final sentence: “No, don’t… please, spare my baby.” The agonizing pain made my eyelids heavy. Soon, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I heard the relentless knocking at the apartment door. My phone also displayed a reply: [I like knocking. What are you going to do about it?]

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My husband is a world-renowned scientist. When asked about his personal life in an interview, he said: “I don’t consider myself a qualified partner.” “Under no circumstances will I put romance first.” “I only wish to use my limited time pursuing the endless frontiers of science.” After the program aired, the whole country praised his fearless pursuit of knowledge. I, however, quietly put away my medical report. I had cancer. Terminal. The days he spent in London receiving his award. Were my last days in this world. 01 The last thing I saw before my consciousness faded was the blinding glare of the surgical lights. But when my spirit left my body, allowing me to see the entire operating room. And when I saw the heart monitor next to the bed pull into a flat line. I suddenly realized. I seemed to be dead. 02 I don’t know why, but I turned into a spirit, floating around. Just this morning, I was feeling okay. I even spoke a few words to Elias. He had an overseas symposium to present his research at, and his flight was this afternoon. So I woke up at seven to make him breakfast. Elias looked like someone who didn’t care about anything, but he was incredibly picky about his food. The toast had to be toasted just a tiny bit crispy, and the milk had to be exactly 80% warm. In our son’s words: “Mom, you’ve spoiled Dad’s taste buds.” I didn’t disagree. After taking meticulous care of him for twenty or thirty years, even the most troublesome things become habits. 03 “Elias, I heard there’s a sudden temperature drop in the UK due to some air mass.” “I packed an extra down vest for you.” “The gum is in the left pocket of your backpack. You always get earaches on flights; chewing a piece will help.” “Don’t stay up too late at night. Has your heart been bothering you lately? Go to bed early…” “It’s a polar continental air mass.” My words were abruptly cut off. I looked up dully and met his clear eyes. The saying “time is kind to beauties” fit Elias well. His brow bone was still sharp, and even nearing fifty, the years seemed to have left no mark on him. So the coldness he carried since his youth could still pierce straight to the bottom of my heart. He was correcting the inaccuracy of my first sentence. “Some air mass in the UK” is a “polar continental air mass.” But I just wanted to care for him. I lowered my eyes. And straightened his tie for him. “I know.” “Have a safe trip, Elias.” He turned sideways and walked past me. He thought I had nothing going on this afternoon. Actually, I did. He was going across the Atlantic to attend a scientific symposium. I also had a meeting to attend. My pre-op consultation. The doctor said the success rate of this surgery was only twenty percent. 04 When the doctor informed me that the stomach cancer was discovered too late and the cancer cells had already metastasized throughout my body, I sat in the hospital corridor for an entire afternoon. The TV hanging in the corner was playing Today’s Interview. It was the interview Elias was invited to a few days ago. The man with the cold eyes didn’t want to waste much time on anything other than scientific research. Even when asked about his wife, he just brushed over it. “I’m a blockhead.” “I don’t understand romance. A wife… to me, is more of a responsibility.” “Celebrate anniversaries? That’s formalism. Instead of spending time preparing for that, I’d rather do a few more experiments.” It sounded exactly like something Elias would say. Forget anniversaries; he didn’t even celebrate birthdays. When I was younger, I used to pester him to celebrate, hoping that one day he would appear before me holding a bouquet of vibrant roses. But I never received a single bouquet of roses. A brain that could memorize countless data points simply refused to remember the four digits of my birthday. Later, I would just sit alone at the table, make myself a bowl of longevity noodles, and consider the day celebrated. Elias was an iron tree; he couldn’t bloom. It took me over twenty years to finally accept this truth. So in recent years, I slowly started to feel that I wasn’t quite right. Call it exhaustion, or call it giving up. The funny thing was, he was him, and I was me. The path he had laid out plainly before me decades ago, I only understood now. I crumpled the medical notice, stuffed it in my pocket, and only called my son’s number. 05 Liam was close to me. Because Elias didn’t like kids, and his only son was completely inept at scientific research. After listening to my emotionless account, Liam’s voice choked up. “Mom…” “Did you and Dad…” “I didn’t tell him.” I lowered my eyes, staring at the granite floor. “I don’t want to tell him.” He is him, and I am me. Besides, what difference would it make if he knew I was sick? Would he drop the scientific research he was so obsessed with day and night to take care of me? “Liam.” “Mom doesn’t know how much longer she has.” “If Mom dies one day, don’t tell your dad.” I looked down and smoothed out the hem of my shirt. Why bring something Elias didn’t care about to him and cause him trouble? “Okay.” Liam replied on the other end of the phone. “Mom, to be honest, Dad doesn’t deserve it anyway.” “He really doesn’t deserve someone as good as you.” … 06 My spirit drifted through the hospital corridors. I saw the doctor walk out of the operating room, shake his head regretfully, and Liam lay by my bed crying. He picked me up and brought me to the hospital in the afternoon, waited outside the operating room until evening, but his mom disappointed him and didn’t open her eyes. He was crying so heartbrokenly. I hovered anxiously around him, but he couldn’t see me. I wanted to hug him so badly, to coax him to stop crying like I did when he was little. Liam worked very hard. Even though he didn’t become a scientist like his dad expected, his paintings were loved by many people, and he had an exhibition opening in Italy in the second half of the year. I sat next to him, looked up at the stars in the night sky, and sang him a song like I did to coax him when he was little. He couldn’t hear me, but I felt like this way, he would know Mom was right by his side. … I was suddenly transported very, very far away by a gust of wind. The senses of a spirit after death are truly miraculous. I could perceive what happened in the hospital after I died. And at the same time, I arrived at the venue where Elias was having his meeting. His meeting was supposed to last for seven days. The man in the sharp suit easily became the center of attention. Young, handsome, with a resume that was unprecedented and probably unrepeatable. Actually, speaking of Elias, he was probably the center of attention from childhood to adulthood. In college, the girls who liked him were like a school of fish crossing a river. In that era, which still retained some traditional thinking, girls brazenly chased him all the way to the bottom of his dorm building. Every time, he looked at them with a gaze that kept people thousands of miles away. Wearing the most ordinary white shirt, books tucked under his arm, he looked down at people with restrained aloofness: “I’m sorry, I don’t like you.” His words were exceedingly merciless. The “popularity” that many men would be immensely proud of was nothing more than a pure annoyance to him. At that time, he had already won national awards until his hands went soft. His name frequently popped out of the teachers’ mouths. At that time, I was just one of the students looking up at him, the most marginalized kind. I only dared to secretly catch a glimpse of the corner of his shirt when exiting the cafeteria. Elias absolutely didn’t know that before our blind date, I had secretly had a crush on him for three or four years. He also absolutely wouldn’t know that three years after graduation. The blind date my family arranged for me was him. “I won’t have anyone I like.” That was what Elias said to me the first time he met me. “If I have to say I like something, I like doing experiments, doing math—in short, nothing to do with people.” He frowned slightly; even so, he couldn’t hide his dazzling good looks. He concisely and clearly explained himself. “We are not discussing love.” “We are just ensuring we have a descendant. Do you understand?” … Actually, back then, Elias made it very clear. It was me who thought I could accept it; it was me who wanted to be with him. I always thought we had plenty of time. I always thought that one day, his clear, unwavering gaze would settle on me. I always thought he— Would fall in love with me. Should I say I overestimated myself, pinning my day-and-night dedication on the so-called “love grows over time”? My spirit drifted to his side. Watching him converse with the scholar across from him with a serious expression. The man had a tall, slender build, aloof and elegant. “Was I pretty stupid?” I leaned against his pocket, looking at him. “They say people with high IQs look at normal people the way normal people look at fools.” On the other side, my body was sent to the hearse from the funeral home. The academic symposium was buzzing with voices. “Elias, did you think I was pretty stupid?” 07 Elias took a picture of the London night view with his phone and sent it to me. Of course, I could never reply. Liam really didn’t tell his dad about my death. He didn’t even unblock Elias to send the obituary he posted on my WeChat. This was good. I bothered him too much while I was alive; I didn’t want to trouble him and make him change his flight after I died. Besides, I didn’t think he would want to see me one last time anyway. The London night view was pretty, but for some reason, that day, he stared at his phone and looked out from the windy balcony for a long time. I leaned over to look and finally understood. In the past, when he sent me messages, I almost always replied instantly. When he went on business trips abroad before, he would casually snap a few photos and send them to me. I would reply with the emojis I saved from Liam: a thumbs-up, or two thumbs-up, with “Awesome!” written on them. This time, he waited a long time, and I didn’t reply. “Professor Vance, it’s raining outside again.” “Come back inside, don’t catch a cold.” A young female voice sounded behind him. She was his student. In academic circles, some things are tacitly understood. The girl stepped forward somewhat intimately to drape a coat over him, but he pushed her away. 08 “Fish and chips.” “Disgusting.” Elias sent me a picture of a restaurant. My body was pushed into the incinerator. “It’s raining again.” Elias sent me a picture out the window of the hotel he was staying at. Relatives and friends attended my burial ceremony. “Presenting results tonight.” “Flight back tomorrow.” Elias stood at the podium, cameras pointed at him. With my broken English, I understood a little. His results seemed to add another significant stroke to human development. He, standing under the spotlight, in the field he excelled at, unfailingly radiated light and heat. I think this was why I loved him for so many years. But it was me who loved him, not him who loved me. In the drizzling rain of April, as my ashes were buried beside a square tombstone, I finally understood this truth. 09 That night after the meeting ended, when Elias called my phone for the third time and it didn’t go through. He changed his flight to the early hours of the morning. On the plane, he frowned the whole time, his face even colder than usual. It makes sense. After being at his beck and call for so many years, suddenly losing contact must be something he wasn’t used to. Actually, every time he came back from abroad, I would go to the airport to pick him up. And I would definitely arrive at least two hours early, just waiting for him at the airport. These were all habits. People can’t let the ones they hold dear suffer any grievances; I always did everything in my power to make him comfortable. But this time, he had to walk through the empty waiting hall alone and then hail a high-priced taxi at four or five in the morning. When he got home, it was 6 AM. He knocked first, and when no one answered, he unlocked the door with his fingerprint and pushed it open. The house was empty. Everything was the same as when he left: the sink was spotless, the dining table empty. Only the slippers I usually wore were placed at the entryway. He unbuttoned the coat he hadn’t had time to change out of because he left in such a hurry, walking around the unlit house, circle after circle. Bedroom, balcony, bathroom. Finally, he opened the washing machine door. … Finding nothing, he paused and pulled out his phone to call me. He waited for a long time; it went straight to voicemail. He took a deep breath and slid his thumb to the other number on the list. Liam’s. The relationship between the two men had been very tense since before Liam became an adult. Over the years, when Liam came home, it was only to see me; he never thought of interacting with his dad. Elias’s attitude was even worse. He was obsessed with academics, which meant: don’t make him raise kids. He was absent during the most important stages of his son’s growth, so his son naturally never spoke to him kindly. “What?” “Where’s your mom?” Both of their tones were aggressive, but Liam paused. Then came a very strange laugh, a feeling I can’t describe, as he murmured and repeated it. “Where’s my mom?” “My mom is gone.” “Where did she go?” Elias’s frown deepened. The first light of dawn happened to fall on his brow. I heard the son on the other end of the phone, his voice suddenly going blank. “Not gone somewhere.” “Mom passed away, Dad.” 10 A very long silence pierced both ends of the phone. From my angle, Elias’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone. “You’re this old and still making cheap jokes with other punks?” A lecturing tone. He didn’t take it seriously. It seemed that the idea of me dying and not even notifying him of the funeral was something that simply wouldn’t compute in Elias’s mind. Liam went silent on the other end of the phone. After a long while, he let out a scoff with a tone of release. “Dad.” “I haven’t joked with you since I was in the sixth grade.” Liam hung up. The phone beeped on Elias’s end. I thought it was strange; Elias seemed frozen in place, standing there maintaining the posture of holding the phone. Slowly, he sat down on the sofa in the house. Elias was rigorous and serious in his academic work, but his personal life was exactly the opposite; he was casual to the extreme. So the house was always cleaned by me. His study was often piled high with manuscripts, and he wouldn’t allow me to touch them. I had been scolded by him more than once for this kind of thing. Thinking about it now, I really wasn’t a good match for him. He probably needed a female scientist who could chat with him about the vast universe of academia. Not a third-rate magazine editor who only knew how to wash sofa covers until they were faded and didn’t even know what a polar continental air mass was. A tiny bit of light leaked into the room. I saw him touching the lace edge of the sofa cover. Rubbing the lace, which had already accumulated a little dust. Over and over again. 11 The front door opened. Elias snapped his head to look. He moved so forcefully I was afraid he’d sprain his neck. As a result, it was Liam standing outside, jingling the keys in his hand. “Dad, you’re here. Good.” “Where did Mom keep her ID and the family register?” “I have to go to the police station…” Elias’s knuckles, which were rubbing the lace edge, stopped moving and stiffened. “To cancel her residency.” “…” In the cabinet below the TV, there were some personal documents belonging to me and Elias. He was the kind of person who threw these things around after taking them, including some of his award medals, so I carefully put them away for him every time. He didn’t care about these things at all, but I would always gently stroke them with joy. “What’s the point.” He didn’t understand why I was happy because he won an award. I would just smile and link arms with him. “Because you’re my husband, and of course I’m happy when my husband wins an award.” When I was young, I still had moments of pestering him and acting cute. Later, washed by the years, I restrained myself a lot. Elias was gripping our marriage certificate and wouldn’t let go. The photo on the marriage certificate didn’t turn out well either. After all, the corners of his mouth weren’t raised even a millimeter, while I smiled as if it were a grand wedding that belonged only to me. Liam found my ID and turned to see Elias holding the two bright red booklets. Staring at who knows what. “Dad, don’t worry.” “Mom is gone, so your marriage to my mom is naturally dissolved.” “You’re not her husband anymore, never will be.” “Happy? You can freely fall in love with those young female students you mentor.” This tone of obvious sarcasm. Normally, Elias would flip out if he heard his son say this. But this time, he didn’t make a sound for a long time. It was more like he had been lost in thought for a long time. He just slowly stood up and then picked up his trench coat hanging on the sofa. “I’ll go with you.”

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I woke up with a baby in a swaddle right next to me. A mechanical voice, buzzing with excitement, echoed in my head. “You must abandon her! Leave her to her alcoholic, abusive father. She will grow up through endless hardship. Then, like a resilient wildflower blooming in adversity, she will catch the eye of the heir to the Sterling Group. Once they get married, you can return to acknowledge her as your daughter, and you will live the rest of your life in absolute wealth and luxury!” I stared at the baby, who was currently giggling at me, and remained silent for a long time. “What if I don’t abandon her?” The System froze, seemingly shocked that anyone would even ask that question. Quickly, its tone turned mocking: “Then she will become the most ordinary, average person. She will go to a normal college, get a normal job, and she will never attract the attention of a billionaire CEO.” I smiled. “That sounds like a pretty good life, doesn’t it?” If the only purpose of her suffering was to attract the attention of some man… Then avoiding all that suffering was a much better deal, wasn’t it? 01 I kept Lily. No, maybe I should call her Aurora now. Ignoring the System’s protests, I changed her original, cliché novel name. She now shares my last name. I hated how in those romance novels, the female leads could never escape those repetitive, overly sweet names—always something delicate, soft, or weak. Meanwhile, the male leads always had names carefully selected by the author to sound powerful, profound, and dominant. I liked the name Aurora. Dawn’s light, standing strong and facing the sun. I wanted my daughter to escape the fate of depending on others. I wanted her to live independently and freely. 02 When Aurora was seven, she started elementary school. She had a bright and cheerful personality, loved by both her teachers and classmates. Until one day, she came home crying. The pigtails I had carefully braided for her were messy and undone. I asked her what happened. She sobbed, “Tommy keeps pulling my hair during class.” I knew Tommy. He was the boy who sat right behind her. I had seen him at the parent-teacher conference. He was a scrawny, overly energetic kid. I frowned. “Did you tell the teacher?” Aurora nodded. “I did, but…” She hesitated. “But the teacher said Tommy only pulls my hair because he has a crush on me.” I didn’t lose my temper in front of my daughter. Instead, I knelt down gently and said to her: “Let’s go talk to Ms. Patterson together, okay?” In the classroom, the teacher, wearing thick red-rimmed glasses, looked up from her lesson plans with a teasing smile. She pointed her chin toward my daughter, whom I had seated a short distance away. “Aurora is a very pretty girl. A lot of the little boys in class have a crush on her. You know how it is—boys at this age don’t know how to express their feelings, so they act out. They tease her a bit, pull her hair a bit.” She seemed to want to use that subtle, knowing smile to group us into the same category. A category of women who had experienced the same “affectionate harassment” and were supposed to feel flattered by it. But in the face of my stony silence, her smile slowly froze. I said flatly, “I don’t understand. All I know is that my daughter is being harassed. This is school bullying.” The teacher seemed taken aback, as if the severity of the word “bullying” had offended her. She set her thermos down with a thud and sat up straight. “Aurora’s mom, you’re being a bit unreasonable. They’re just little kids, what do they know about bullying? They’re just playing around.” “Playing around?” I repeated her words. “If it’s just ‘playing around,’ then how about we move Tommy to sit right behind your daughter?” It was an open secret that Ms. Patterson’s daughter was also in this class. The teacher, who had been arguing so righteously just a second ago, suddenly went mute. I understood perfectly. It wasn’t that she didn’t know this behavior was wrong. It was just that she couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. Just like so many unspoken rules in our society. We all know it’s wrong, but for hundreds of years, no one has ever stood up and said “No.” Because breaking the mold is infinitely more troublesome than just conforming to it. It’s so much easier to wave it off as “just playing around” than to put in the immense effort required to teach little boys to respect women from a young age. But I was going to break the mold. For my daughter. And for the countless girls in the future who would get their hair pulled. To tell them: This is not a crush. This is harassment. This is bullying. “Ms. Patterson,” I snapped her back to reality. “You have two choices right now. First, move Tommy to sit behind your daughter. Second, separate my daughter and Tommy immediately, and teach the boys in your class that the correct way to show you like someone is never to bully them, but to respect and care for them.” The teacher deflated like a popped balloon. “I’ll choose the second option.” I took my daughter’s hand and walked out, satisfied. As we reached the door, Ms. Patterson couldn’t resist calling out bitterly, “Aurora’s mom, interfering this much is going to affect your child’s normal socialization with her peers.” I didn’t even turn my head. My tone was absolute. “That is none of your concern.” On the way home, I shared my concerns with Aurora. “Sweetie, if Tommy refuses to play with you anymore because of what Mommy did today, will you be sad?” Over the years, my daughter and I had an agreement: we always spoke our minds and never kept things bottled up. Aurora thought for a moment, then asked timidly, “Does that mean Tommy will never pull my hair again?” I nodded. “That’s right.” My daughter instantly threw her arms around me, her eyes sparkling. “Then you are the best mommy in the whole wide world!” Wrapped in her warm, soft little arms, all my doubts vanished instantly. I thought, This is truly the greatest compliment in the world. 03 That night, after my daughter fell asleep, the System popped up. Ever since I unilaterally decided to keep Aurora, it had rarely shown itself. It was its form of silent protest against my actions. But to ensure we completed our overarching mission, it would occasionally pop up to remind me. Like today— “Host, our ultimate goal is to get the Female Lead’s Happiness Meter to 100%. You really need to step it up.” I was suddenly curious. “According to the original plot, when exactly does her Happiness Meter hit 100%?” System: “When she marries the heir to the Sterling Group, obviously.” I asked again: “And what about after the wedding? What is her happiness level then? Did your creators ever check?” The System suddenly went silent. I knew it. They never checked. It’s just like the end of a fairy tale: it always stops at “and the Prince and Princess lived happily ever after.” But what happens next? Does the Princess ever get homesick? When she’s forced to learn suffocating royal etiquette, does she miss the days she ran free in the forest? Does she get dragged down by in-law drama? Does the Prince ever fall in love with someone else? All of this… no one cares. If happiness is fragile and constantly at risk of being lost, it cannot be called true happiness. Because something fleeting cannot support a lifetime. I asked again, “What is Aurora’s Happiness Meter at right now? Can you check?” I wasn’t asking out of a player’s ambition, but out of a mother’s genuine curiosity. My daughter… is she happy right now? The System disappeared for a moment, probably checking the data. A few seconds later, it returned, its mechanical voice glitching and screeching in disbelief. “54%… How is this possible?! This is the level of happiness she’s only supposed to reach after enduring unimaginable suffering and being saved by Arthur Sterling during their first encounter! What on earth did you do?!” I looked down at my sleeping daughter and smiled. “I just did what a mother is supposed to do.” Facts prove that the one who saves the Princess isn’t always the Prince. It can also be the Queen. And I believe that in the near future, the one who saves the Princess… will be the Princess herself. 04 A few years later, Aurora entered high school. Her grades were excellent, especially in STEM subjects, where she showed incredible talent. She was almost always ranked number one in her grade for math. But one day, she came home looking incredibly defeated, not saying a word. I immediately sensed something was wrong and asked: “Are you upset about your scores on the midterms?” Her voice instantly cracked. “A new transfer student came to our class. He took first place on the very first midterm. Even in math.” I understood her frustration. It’s a terrible feeling to be beaten by someone in the very field you excel at. So I asked gently, “How many students are in your grade?” Aurora thought for a second. “Six hundred and forty-five.” I smiled. “See? You didn’t lose to one person. You beat six hundred and forty-three other people. That is incredibly impressive.” Hearing my comfort, her mood visibly lifted. But she still looked a bit down. “Mom, our math teacher said that girls just aren’t naturally good at STEM. Even if my grades are good now, once we hit senior year, the boys will eventually overtake me.” I kept my smile and asked, “And which teacher made that brilliant deduction?” Again. Which. Teacher. My daughter sighed. “Our math teacher. He’s also the Vice Principal.” The System chimed in my head, gloating. “Uh-oh. This one isn’t going to be so easy to deal with.” I ignored it and thought for a moment. “Sweetie, do you want to transfer to a better private school?” Private schools have exorbitant tuition fees, but the upgrade in educational resources is undeniable. Most importantly, instead of treating students just as students, they treat students (and their parents) as clients. If anyone dared to say “girls aren’t suited for STEM” there, I would have the absolute leverage to demand they be fired. But to my surprise, the one who reacted most violently wasn’t Aurora, but the System. It screamed in my head: “Absolutely NOT!!!” I closed my eyes in exasperation. “Why are you freaking out?” The System frantically explained: “That transfer student is the Male Lead #2! He is a literal genius. He takes first place without even trying. At first, the Female Lead is crushed by this, but eventually, she starts looking up to him as a role model, and their relationship slowly heats up!” I was genuinely confused. “And?” The System sounded like it was pulling its hair out. “Do you not get it? He’s supposed to be the beacon of inspiration on her path forward!” I maintained my confused tone. “Using your rival as motivation is just good sportsmanship. That just means my daughter has a great mindset. What does the specific identity of the rival have to do with anything?” The System seemed to choke. “But… but…” It stammered for a long time but couldn’t form a coherent argument. I continued calmly: “Making the Female Lead suffer setbacks just so she can ‘grow’ isn’t loving the Female Lead. On the contrary, it’s just a cheap plot device to give Male Lead #2 a chance to show off. The underlying logic is still heavily male-centric. “True love means paving a smooth road for her, allowing her to step on everyone else as she climbs to the top.” The System fell silent for a long time before finally saying weakly, “But in all the missions I’ve overseen, the plots are always like this. The Female Lead must be misunderstood, framed by villains, and endure every possible hardship before she can rise from the ashes and truly find happiness.” I shook my head, pointing out the glaring flaw: “Then think back to the Male Leads in those stories. Don’t they always come from generational wealth? The greatest hardship they ever experience in their entire lives is a mild stomach ulcer. The Female Lead’s entire happiness relies solely on his love. What happens if he withdraws that love? She is left with absolutely nothing.” I concluded: “These stories are categorized as female romance, but at their core, they are just male power fantasies.” The System finally stopped arguing. It had been completely dismantled by my logic. After a while, it sighed. “But if she leaves Male Lead #2, that’s another plot point missed that could have raised her Happiness Meter. How is the story supposed to progress now…” I didn’t answer it. Because right at that moment, Aurora had finished thinking. Her eyes were dancing with excitement, though she hesitated. “Really? Can we really? But private school tuition is so expensive.” I smiled and ruffled her hair. “Of course we can! Mommy has made quite a bit of money over the years.” Over the years, aside from raising my daughter, I had been diligently running my own business. I hadn’t just sat around waiting for my daughter to marry a billionaire so I could ride her coattails, like in the original plot. Aurora’s eyes grew red, and tears rolled down her cheeks. She hugged me tightly. “Thank you, Mom. I know you’re doing this to give me a better environment. I promise I will study so hard. I won’t let you down!” In that moment, I thought: My daughter has truly grown up. In the past, I’d seen parents who loved “hardship education,” constantly reminding their kids how hard they worked and how much they sacrificed for them. But what’s the point? It just breeds unnecessary guilt. If you genuinely care for your child, they will naturally feel it. I wrapped my arms around Aurora. “Mommy’s biggest hope isn’t that you get perfect grades. It’s that you are truly happy.” 05 The transfer process went incredibly smoothly. With the dark cloud lifted from her mind, she became even more focused on her studies. I also hired a private math tutor for her. She was a female instructor who had graduated from the math department at MIT. Perhaps, currently, there are relatively fewer women who reach the absolute pinnacle in STEM fields. But that doesn’t mean “women are naturally unsuited for STEM.” On the contrary, it’s precisely because there are so many voices of doubt on this path that girls become increasingly discouraged. More than just tutoring, my main goal in hiring this specific instructor was to provide a role model. Even if very few people walk this path, as long as someone has walked it, it proves the path is viable. If someone else can do it, I believe my daughter can do it too. Because she is so brilliant and so resilient. … The day Aurora finished her SATs and college applications, my company was officially incorporated. Standing outside the testing center waiting for her, I asked the System: “Can you check Aurora’s current Happiness Meter?” The System replied: “One moment.” A few seconds later, it gasped in shock: “76%!” I didn’t understand. “Is that high?” The System’s voice was practically trembling. “Very high! Out of all the hosts who started missions at the same time as us, your score is the highest!” Just then, Aurora came skipping out of the testing center. She grabbed my arm, beaming. “Mom! The exams went so well! I’m confident—I guarantee you’ll be getting an acceptance call from MIT!” I smiled and took her backpack. “Oh my goodness! Then I really am riding my little Aurora’s coattails.” In the original novel, the Female Lead had to work multiple part-time jobs just to scrape together tuition while attending college. Despite working incredibly hard, she was still inevitably dragged down by external drama. In the end, she only managed to get into an average state college. In this life, I cleared every obstacle in her path so she could study in peace. And she was able to unleash her full potential, securing a spot at the most prestigious university in the country. The path of her life visibly widened. Even if she never married into a billionaire family, she now had the power to build her own empire. The System sighed in my head. “Host, perhaps your choice was correct. You really did change the trajectory of her life, and you changed my perspective too.” I smirked slightly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. 06 Aurora was accepted into the math department at MIT, just as she hoped. She was invited back to her high school to give a speech. On the auditorium stage, Aurora was radiant. After sharing her study tips, she concluded: “…And finally, I want to say this to all the girls here today. If a teacher ever tells you, ‘Girls aren’t suited for STEM,’ or ‘The boys will eventually overtake you,’ please, absolutely do not believe them. “I am standing here today hoping that in the future, when you start to doubt yourselves or your abilities, you might think of me. Think of the person who got accepted into MIT’s math program. And remember… she was a girl, too.” When she finished, the auditorium erupted in thunderous applause. I saw with my own eyes several girls who had been staring at the floor with bored expressions suddenly snap their heads up, their eyes shining with a fierce light. I also saw the Vice Principal who had once belittled my daughter. His face was a sickly shade of green. The Principal standing next to him suddenly looked like he had an epiphany. As if he finally understood why, no matter how hard he tried to convince us to stay, he couldn’t change my daughter’s determination to leave. I don’t know, nor do I care, how furious that Principal must have been at losing a brilliant student destined for MIT. Because we had already crossed mountains and sailed far beyond them. 07 After Aurora went to college, I fully dedicated myself to my business. We were both fighting hard in our respective fields. Some nosy acquaintances would tell me: “Why are you working so hard? You have a daughter, not a son. It’s not like you have to buy her a house or pay for a wedding.” I would just smile faintly. “Then it must suck to be your daughter. My daughter is lucky. The harder I work now, the less she has to suffer in the future. Everything I have is hers, and it’s definitely not going to be limited to just a house or a measly wedding fund.” The person’s face would sour, and they’d quickly shut up. After they left, the System asked me: “Host, I don’t really understand human emotions. Did she say that because she has a son?” I shook my head. “No. She has a daughter too. An only child.” The System was surprised. “Then why did she say that to you? Does she not love her own daughter?” I fell silent for a long time, unsure how to explain the complexities of human nature to a machine. “Maybe she does love her. But clearly, even though she gave birth to a daughter, she still values sons more.” The belief that you have to grind and hustle if you have a son, but you can kick back and relax if you have a daughter… It’s an insidious form of deeply ingrained sexism. In their hearts, they probably hold more affection for the imaginary son they never had. And because of that, they project those feelings onto sons-in-law or nephews. So, is it love? Maybe it’s love, but it’s a very conditional love. After all, “put your money where your mouth is” is the eternal, unchanging truth.

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