Category: English

I was on the train when I got a text from my ex-boyfriend. “I have a new girlfriend now. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea, so let’s just delete each other’s numbers.” Wait, is this guy actually psycho? A second later, my roommate sent me a message. “I’m dating Liam now. You don’t mind, right?” Like hell I didn’t mind. I handed my phone to the guy sitting next to me. “Hey, handsome. Can you do me a favor?” 1 My phone buzzed. I opened it to see a text from Liam. “I have a new girlfriend now. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea, so let’s just delete each other’s numbers.” Wait, is this guy actually psycho? A second later, my roommate sent me a message. “I’m dating Liam now. You don’t mind, right?” I stared at the screen for three solid minutes. The silence in my head was deafening. Sarah was my roommate, and the main reason Liam and I broke up in the first place. She always styled herself as the “guardian” of our relationship, doing incredibly boundary-crossing things under the guise of “helping us.” When Liam was first pursuing me, Sarah volunteered to be his wingman, which she mostly used as an excuse to make him buy her dinner. Whenever Liam and I fought, she would stay up all night texting him, claiming she was just trying to mediate. She even picked out the birthday gift he got me. She made a point to ask me in front of our whole dorm: “Chloe, do you like the necklace? I went to the mall with Liam yesterday to pick it out.” “You picked it?” “Yeah! Liam told me he had no idea what to get you. I have great taste, right? You’re so lucky to have a roommate like me. Oh, by the way, we booked a table at Boom tonight for your birthday, you should go get ready.” I watched Sarah happily doing her makeup, then tossed the jewelry box onto her desk. “This necklace matches your dress perfectly. You should wear it tonight.” Then, I pulled out my phone and texted Liam to break up. Liam: “??? Are you serious? Why?” Me: “Because a relationship is for two people. Three people is a crowd.” 2 The train’s intercom announcement interrupted my thoughts. Looking at the back-to-back texts from those two, there was no way it was a coincidence. I could vividly picture them sitting together, gossiping about me, and hitting send at the exact same time. I was furious. After thinking for a second, I got an idea. I glanced at the guy sitting in the seat next to me. He had a black baseball cap pulled low over his face and headphones in, seemingly asleep. Would it be too rude to bother him? But faced with the choice between being polite or swallowing this disrespect, I chose to be impolite. I reached out and gently poked his arm. “Hi. Excuse me.” His cap slid up, revealing an incredibly handsome face. He was exactly my type. He didn’t look annoyed at all, just a little confused. I shamelessly held my phone out to him. “Hey, handsome. Can you do me a favor?” The screen showed Liam’s text. The guy frowned when he read it. I thought he was going to say no, but a second later, a knowing smirk crossed his lips. He took my phone, held the voice memo button, and said in a deep, casual voice: “Bro, who the hell are you?” He looked up at me, his eyes curving into a smile. “Is this the kind of favor you needed?” 3 “Yes! Yes!” I nodded frantically. This guy caught on so fast, I didn’t even have to explain the plan. “Thank you so much, man. You are as kind as you are gorgeous.” Damn my lack of a filter. Did I really just say that out loud? The smile in his eyes deepened. Suddenly, my phone started vibrating violently. We both looked down. A barrage of texts from Liam. “Chloe, who the f*** is that guy?” “Did you break up with me for him?!” Seriously? This guy was so delusional it hurt. “Oh, he’s triggered,” the handsome guy observed. A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes. He asked, “Do you want to make him even more triggered?” Huh? Before I could process it, he held down the voice memo button again. “Oops. Looks like we got caught.” He let go, sending the message. This guy was a professional menace. A second later, Liam called me. I was going to decline it, but I saw the guy next to me looking at my phone with the eagerness of someone wanting to watch the drama unfold. Fine, I’ll indulge him. I hit accept. “Chloe, who the hell is with you?!” Liam immediately demanded. A good Samaritan I met on the train. Obviously, I wasn’t going to say that. But since the guy was sitting right there, I was too embarrassed to claim he was my boyfriend. “Liam, why are you calling me? Won’t your new girlfriend get the wrong idea?” I asked innocently. Liam choked on his words. “I only texted you that because—” Before he could finish, he was cut off. “Baby, I don’t care what his new girlfriend thinks. But if you keep talking to him, your new boyfriend is going to get jealous.” The guy next to me had suddenly leaned in close, his warm breath ghosting over my hand holding the phone. Even though I knew he was acting, hearing him call me “baby” in that voice made my entire face turn bright red. “F***!” Liam cursed violently on the other end. “You played me, Chloe! No wonder you suddenly dumped me! You better hope I never find out who he is, or I’ll beat the shit out of him.” He hung up. What a psycho. 4 Having completed his mission, the handsome guy leaned back in his seat. He said sagely, “You won. Your ex is definitely more miserable than you are right now. No guy can handle thinking he got cheated on. Especially finding out after a breakup.” “You speak with such authority. Is it from personal experience?” The guy: “…” He turned to look at me, his face deadpan. “Do I look like someone who gets cheated on?” Deep eyes, a perfectly straight nose, and a flawless jawline. No. He looked like the kind of guy who handed out the heartbreak, not the one receiving it. “Thank you.” I genuinely thanked him from the bottom of my heart. If it weren’t for this Train Vigilante, I wouldn’t have been able to get the upper hand on Liam. Thinking about Liam and Sarah together still disgusted me. But remembering how triggered Liam just got made me feel a thousand times better. “Don’t mention it. Putting trashy exes in their place is every citizen’s civic duty.” …Such high moral standards. He had to be a college student. I asked tentatively, “Are you in college?” He nodded. “Yeah.” “Which one?” “A University.” What were the odds?! I gasped excitedly, “We must have shoveled manure together in a past life to have this much fate in this one!” The guy fell into a visible silence. “Miss, I don’t know about you, but I definitely did not shovel manure in any life.” He better realize I was just using internet slang. 5 Sarah and I got back to the dorm around the same time. The moment she walked in, she bee-lined for me, leaning heavily against my desk. “Chloe, why didn’t you text me back?” I did. I replied with silence. Sarah probed, “Are you ignoring me because you’re upset about Liam and me?” If she hadn’t brought it up, I would have genuinely forgotten. But since she was so obsessed with it… I picked up my phone, opened my chat with Sarah, and sent a “👍”. Me: “There, I replied.” “Chloe, what is that supposed to mean?” I looked up at her. “You asked me to reply. I replied, and now you’re mad?” Sitting nearby, our other roommate Mia snorted with laughter. “What are you laughing at?” Sarah snapped, turning her hostility toward Mia. “You,” Mia replied simply. Sarah ignored her and turned back to me. “Chloe, when you didn’t reply, I was so worried! I was terrified you were mad at me. I mean, you have every right to be mad, but I really don’t want to lose you as a friend.” Her voice got smaller and smaller, dripping with manufactured guilt. She always did this. Just like when we fought over her texting Liam all night. She had stood in the dorm, crying and apologizing. “Chloe, I just saw how unhappy you were fighting with Liam, so I tried to help! I was doing it for both of you. If you don’t like it, I’ll never do it again.” She had cried until her eyes were swollen and red. Even though she was the one completely violating my boundaries, she somehow made it look like I was being a crazy, unreasonable bully. “Chloe, I swear it’s true! I’ll show you the chat logs, we only talked about your relationship!” It was about our relationship. Liam: “Sarah, if Chloe was as sweet and understanding as you, we wouldn’t fight at all. She’s such a spoiled princess, she gets mad over nothing. I’m so sick of her sometimes.” Sarah: “Don’t say that about Chloe! I’m sure she has a reason for being mad. You probably did something to upset her. And anyway, I’m not as great as you say I am.” … Out of hundreds of pages of texts, she specifically made sure I saw those messages. It only made me angrier. I knew she did it on purpose back then. And I knew she was doing it on purpose now. 6 “Did you know? When Liam first confessed to me, I was so shocked, I rejected him immediately. But you really can’t control your feelings. I figured since you guys have been broken up for months, and he swore he had zero feelings for you anymore, I finally said yes. Liam said we should all grab dinner sometime as an apology. When are you free, Chloe?” I’m free never, because I’m afraid I won’t be able to resist smashing a plate into both of your faces. I started to reconsider my life choices. Had I been too nice? Was that why she thought I was a total pushover? I slammed my phone face-down on the desk. “Sarah, I’m not a target dummy. Stop shooting your arrows at me.” Sarah: “?” “Are you done putting on a show? When Liam and I were together, I didn’t want to call you out on your pathetic little schemes. I gave you too much grace, and now you actually think you’re untouchable. “Does picking up my trash make you feel special? Does dating my ex make you feel proud? “You came over here spewing all this garbage just so you could see me look sad and defeated. It feeds your ego. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not as fake as you are, and I won’t give you the satisfaction.” She clearly hadn’t expected me to rip off her mask and expose her true intentions so bluntly. Sarah’s face turned the color of raw liver. Her voice shook. “Chloe… you’re being really mean today.” Me: “Well let me tell you, it’s not just going to be today. If you don’t like how mean I am, you can stop talking to me.” 7 Sarah stormed out in a huff, and my ears finally found peace. Mia gave me a massive thumbs up. “Girl, your combat power is off the charts today! You always used to just turn a blind eye to her.” I gave Mia a full rundown of what happened on the train. Mia slapped her thigh. “No way! Why don’t I ever meet gorgeous, helpful vigilantes on the train?!” …Was that really the main takeaway here? Mia was instantly invested. “He goes to our school? What’s his name? I’m searching the university confessions page right now.” She unlocked her phone. “Ethan Cole. Computer Science.” “People are literally begging for his info and posting pictures of him. Holy crap, he’s top-tier.” Mia shoved her phone in my face. It was a photo of Ethan, zoomed in to fill the screen. He was mid-shot on a basketball court, the muscles in his arms flexing perfectly. Under the red and white jersey, you could see a glimpse of a lean waist, defined abs, and… Mia sighed in awe. “You are eating good.” Me: “I haven’t eaten anything yet.” I pulled up Ethan’s WeChat profile. Wow. His feed was even cleaner than his face. Zero posts. I had no idea how to even start a conversation with him. Unlike me. My life was a mess, but my social media was highly curated. Mia asked, “By the way, are you still going to the Class President’s birthday dinner tomorrow?” Me: “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Mia: “I figured you wouldn’t want to watch Liam and Sarah aggressively making out in front of you.” Me: “They can eat each other’s faces. I’ll be eating the steak.” Mia: “I thought it would make you lose your appetite.” I looked at her, confused. “They’re just being annoying, they aren’t taking a dump on the table. Why wouldn’t I eat?” Mia: “…” 8 The next day, in the private dining room. “Liam, I gotta hand it to you. You managed to bag the two prettiest girls in our major. Got the old flame on the left and the new spark on the right.” “Yeah, Liam, tell us the truth. Who do you like more? The ex or the current?” A few drinks in, and people were already talking too much. I frowned. That was an incredibly disrespectful question. Liam didn’t answer immediately. He just looked over at me. When I met his gaze, he awkwardly looked away. A moment later, he threw his arm around Sarah’s shoulders, pulling her into his chest, and smirked at the table. “What do you guys think?” Sarah’s face turned bright red. She leaned into Liam’s chest, acting all shy and delicate. “Stop it, everyone is watching.” Then, she looked at me with fake magnanimity. “Chloe, don’t be mad. I’ll scold him for you.” Wait, why would I be mad? Can I just eat my food in peace? Stop dragging me into this! But there’s always someone who just wants to watch the world burn. “Chloe, you look really unhappy. Are you still not over Liam?” Me: “Not even a little bit.” “Don’t deny it, Chloe! We totally understand. Our guy Liam is a total catch, right?” Do these people not speak English? I looked at the guys making the jokes, and then at Liam, who was sitting there silently enjoying it. Four words popped into my head: Birds of a feather. I felt profound regret that I was ever blind enough to date Liam. It felt like stepping in dog crap. “Sorry I’m late.” Suddenly, the private room door swung open, and a familiar voice rang out. I looked over. It was Ethan Cole. Oh thank god! It’s Ethan! I shot up from my chair instantly. “You’re here!” “You’re here!” Two voices spoke at the exact same time. Me and the Class President. The President looked at me in shock. “You guys know each other?” So he was friends with the President. I was even more certain now that we definitely shoveled manure together in a past life. I nodded vigorously. “Yeah! He’s my boyfriend.” My eyes locked with Ethan’s across the room. I frantically sent him SOS signals with my eyes. He raised an eyebrow, a flash of surprise crossing his face. Then, the corners of his lips curled up into a slow, knowing smile. “Yeah. That’s right. I’m her boyfriend.” 9 After Ethan said that, the entire room went dead silent for a few seconds. The President was the first to break it. He looked thrilled. “Since when?! Why didn’t you guys tell me?!” Me: “Because keeping it a secret is more exciting.” The President was speechless. I looked at the guys who were just making fun of me, flashing them a sarcastic smile. “Do you really think that with a boyfriend looking like this, I’d be hung up on Liam?” At that moment, the expressions on everyone’s faces were absolutely priceless. Especially Liam’s. His face went completely dark. Mia was sitting next to me. When Ethan started walking toward us, she immediately jumped up and offered him her seat without a word. Ethan sat down, leaned in close to my ear, and whispered, “Which one is the ex?” Human nature is truly universal. Even he wanted the tea. I muttered, “Third one on your left.” I instinctively looked over, only to find Liam glaring daggers at us, looking absolutely furious. Ethan gave his assessment: “You have terrible taste.” …I literally could not argue with that. Sarah suddenly spoke up. “Chloe, you got a new boyfriend so fast! How come you never mentioned him in the dorm?” Still with the passive-aggressive tone, acting like she was the victim. I let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Because I was scared of you, obviously!” I grabbed Ethan’s hand and waved it in the air for everyone to see. “He’s very precious to me. I couldn’t risk you stealing him too.”

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My little sister’s middle school hosted a charity flea market. She spent five bucks on an old love letter and presented it to me like a priceless treasure: “Look, Summer! The person this is addressed to has the exact same name as you!” I stared at the letter, dated eight years ago, and fell into deep thought. The signature at the bottom read: Ethan Sterling. Wait. Wasn’t that my aloof, ice-cold high school lab partner? The guy who was now my aloof, ice-cold boss? Before I could ask any questions, a call came through to my sister’s smartwatch. A little boy on the other end was crying his lungs out: “My uncle is going to kill me! I’ll give you a hundred bucks—just please give that love letter back!” 1 Because of a mistake made by one of our interns, our entire team was getting chewed out. As the team director, I took the brunt of the yelling. By the time I walked out of the CEO’s office with my head hanging low, the intern was on the verge of tears. “Summer, I’m so sorry. I dragged you down with me.” I looked at the dark circles under her eyes. The workload had been brutal lately, and our whole team had been working overtime. She hadn’t been slacking off. I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m used to getting yelled at. It doesn’t even hurt anymore…” “Is that so?” A deep, low voice echoed behind me. The intern flinched like she’d been struck by lightning. My body went rigid. I looked up to see Ethan Sterling pushing his office door open, his brows furrowed as he stared at me. Ugh… that icy, deadpan face. Just looking at it makes me mad. I forced a stiff smile. “…No.” Ethan stared at me intently for a few seconds, then closed his office door. Later, when I stepped out to the pantry for water, I overheard a few interns whispering. “The boss is so mean to Director Hastings.” “Her heart must be made of steel. If it were me, I would’ve quit by now.” “I heard Director Hastings and the boss actually went to high school together.” “No way! And he still rips into an old classmate without an ounce of mercy? He’s a monster.” I shrugged my shoulders. They weren’t wrong. Ethan Sterling was a monster. And we weren’t just regular high school classmates; we sat right next to each other as lab partners for three whole years! Yet, he still gave me absolutely zero preferential treatment. I was about to walk away when the topic of their conversation suddenly shifted. “By the way, I heard the boss is engaged.” “Yeah, a little while ago, I saw his fiancée drop him off at the office!” “What? Our ice-cold CEO actually has a fiancée?” My footsteps faltered, and my fingers unconsciously tightened around my mug. Looking down the hallway toward the CEO’s office, I suddenly felt a stifling, heavy feeling in my chest. 2 After a month of grueling overtime, our project finally hit a major milestone. The company gave us five days off. The interns were so excited they practically cried. I politely declined their invitation to go out for drinks, went home to pack a bag, and drove straight back to my hometown. I hadn’t been back in six months. Thankfully, it was only a four-hour drive from the city where I worked. It was late at night by the time I arrived. My sudden appearance startled my mom, but she happily rushed off to make my bed while my dad hummed a tune and went to the kitchen to whip up a late-night snack. After dropping my bags, I quietly pushed open the door to a small bedroom. By the ambient light from the living room, I could see a little girl buried under the blankets, sleeping peacefully. Lily was the product of my parents’ “happy accident” when I was already in high school. Having a baby sister so suddenly took some getting used to at first. But as Lily grew up, she became impossibly cute, perfectly inheriting my mom’s patience and my dad’s intellect. She was incredibly clingy with me, always thinking of me first whenever she got her hands on something good. Early the next morning, I was roused by some rustling. I sleepily opened my eyes to see Lily resting her chin on the edge of my bed. Her bright eyes blinked at me. “Summer! You’re back!” “Yeah,” I mumbled, closing my eyes again. “Be a good girl, your big sister needs to sleep a little longer.” “Okay! I’m going to school now, but I’ll bring you a present when I get back!” I hummed an acknowledgment. When Lily tiptoed out, she even carefully pulled the door shut behind her. What a sweet kid. She must have saved up quite a bit of allowance to be buying me presents. I was actually a little excited. It was almost 11 AM when I finally got out of bed. My dad had just picked Lily up from school. My parents told me to watch her for a bit while they ran to the grocery store. As soon as they left, Lily eagerly pulled something out of her backpack and shuffled over to me like she had a massive secret. “Summer, guess what I got you!” How was I supposed to guess that? Before I could even throw out a random answer, she couldn’t hold it in anymore and shoved an envelope right into my face. “Look, Summer! Your name is on it!” I froze for a second and took the letter. The paper was slightly yellowed; it looked like it was from several years ago. The front of the envelope read: To Summer. What were the odds of sharing the same name? Lily babbled on: “Our school had a charity flea market today. We brought old stuff from home that we didn’t need, and students could buy whatever they wanted. The money goes to underfunded schools. “My desk partner brought a ton of stuff—old books, stationery… I found this letter tucked inside a book, so I bought it for five dollars.” Lily looked at me, desperate for praise. “Do you like it?” 3 My very first thought was: It’s just a coincidence. Growing up, I was never considered pretty in my class. I wore thick, heavy glasses and had a quiet, introverted personality. Whenever people talked to me, I never knew how to respond. So, naturally, no boy had ever given me a love letter. Holding the envelope, I felt a bit awkward. But Lily was urging me: “Open it! Hurry!” “I don’t think that’s a good idea…” After all, it belonged to someone else. And it was a love letter—something incredibly private. “But I spent a whole week’s allowance on this!” Kids are impatient. She snatched the letter from my hands and ripped it open in three seconds flat. Then she shoved the paper back at me. “Read it to me!” “My classmate said he took this from his uncle’s treasure box. He said everything in there is super valuable, so this must be too!” I was about to refuse again, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught the signature at the very bottom of the page. The handwriting was neat and elegant—Ethan Sterling. It felt like a lightning bolt struck my brain. I stared blankly for several seconds before my gaze rigidly moved upward to read the contents: [Summer, this is our third year sitting together as lab partners…] I slammed my hand over the paper, my face burning so hot it felt like it might explode. My sister was still begging: “Read it, Summer! I want to hear it too!” 4 I managed to distract my sister, clutched the envelope, and bolted into my room. I threw open the window and let the cold wind hit my face for a long time, but my heart wouldn’t calm down. I looked at the letter again. I was absolutely certain Ethan wrote this. Back in high school, my handwriting was atrocious. My English teacher couldn’t stand it anymore and actually gave me Ethan’s notebooks to trace over for an entire semester. I could recognize his handwriting even if it turned to ashes. But… why? Why would Ethan Sterling have liked me in high school? My thoughts drifted back to the beginning of our freshman year, the first time I met him. I was a small-town girl who had just moved to the city to attend its premier high school. I showed up carrying an oversized, cheap plastic moving bag stuffed to the brim with all my belongings. By the time I reached the school gates, it was too heavy to carry, so I just dragged it behind me. But I overestimated the quality of that bag. The friction against the concrete tore a massive hole in the bottom. I walked for quite a while before realizing the bag felt too light. I turned around and saw my things scattered all over the pavement. Textbooks, pens, toiletries, my lunchbox… The kids around me were all staring. Laughter echoed from all sides: “Wow, look at the country bumpkin.” “That bag is something else, man.” My face burned bright red. I crouched down and started retracing my steps, picking everything up. Not long after, I bumped right into a boy walking toward me. He was wearing a backpack, tall, with strikingly handsome features. He was holding a pile of my scattered belongings. “I picked up the stuff further down,” he said flatly. He looked over my shoulder at the shredded plastic bag on the ground. “Do you have another bag?” I shook my head awkwardly, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye. He thought for a second, pulled a few textbooks out of his own black backpack, and handed the bag to me. “Use this for now.” I took the backpack in a daze and looked up blankly. “How am I supposed to return it to you?” The boy pointed at the textbooks I had just picked up. “Aren’t you in Freshman Homeroom 3 too?” I froze, instinctively looking down at the textbooks he was holding. The name tag on the cover read his class and name. Freshman Homeroom 3. Ethan Sterling. … If we’re talking about who liked who first, I was definitely the one who fell for him first. Unfortunately, due to a mix of circumstances, that secret crush died a quiet death. After graduating from college, I joined an unknown, small startup for an internship, only to unexpectedly run into him again. That’s when I realized he was the one who founded the company. It just goes to show how the gap between people only widens over time. While I was still stressing over how to feed myself, Ethan had already started a business and climbed his way into the elite class. So, how did this love letter even come to exist? I racked my brain but couldn’t figure it out. Does Ethan still… Just thinking about it made my heart race, but before I could entertain the thought, I suddenly remembered the gossip the interns were whispering in the pantry. Ethan probably already has a fiancée. So this love letter, whether genuine or not, could only belong in the past. 5 While I was wallowing in melancholy, I heard Lily’s angry voice from the living room: “Leo! You broke your promise! I’m never playing with you again!” I cracked the door open and saw Lily holding her smartwatch up, currently on a call. The kid on the other end burst into tears the moment she spoke: “Please, I’m begging you, just give the letter back! My uncle came home unexpectedly today and found out I touched his stuff. He yelled at me so bad! I’ll give you a hundred bucks—no, I’ll give you all my Christmas money! Just give it back, please?” Maybe it was because he was crying so pitifully. Lily pouted and stayed quiet for a moment. She hesitated for a long time while the boy kept begging. “Fine, I’ll go talk to my sister.” She sounded conflicted. “It was supposed to be her present.” “Thank you so much!” The boy sounded immensely relieved. Then, he suddenly added, “Oh, by the way, my uncle should be at your house soon. He asked for your address and left half an hour ago. You can just hand the letter directly to him.” I jolted, practically launching myself out of the room. Grabbing Lily’s wrist to speak into her smartwatch, I demanded: “Hey kid, what’s your uncle’s name?” The boy stammered, “E-Ethan… Ethan Sterling.” Ding-dong— At that exact moment, the doorbell rang. I froze. I scrambled to the peephole and peeked out. Standing outside, waiting patiently, was Ethan. He was wearing casual clothes, his hair not perfectly slicked back like usual. He looked a bit more approachable. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, if I opened the door right now, things would get insanely awkward! How were we supposed to work together after this?! I turned and locked eyes with Lily. Just as she was about to speak, I slapped my hand over her mouth. “Listen to me. Go open the door. Don’t tell him I’m home, and definitely don’t tell him who your sister is.” I sprinted into my room, shoved the letter back into the envelope, and practically threw it at Lily. “Give this back to him, and then shut the door!” There was no time to worry about manners. Lily nodded. After I was safely hidden in my room, she trotted over and opened the door. … When the door opened, Ethan was about to speak, but he didn’t see anyone at eye level. He paused, looked down, and saw a little girl holding an envelope up to him. “Hi. Are you Leo’s uncle? “This is your stuff. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it.” The little girl looked so pitiful that the frown on Ethan’s face instinctively softened. “It’s okay. Leo sold it to you; it’s his fault.” He glanced at the envelope and asked, “Did you open it?” The tear marks on the flap were pretty obvious. Lily’s eyes darted around, and she immediately lied: “I’m sorry, mister. I was just really curious, so I peeked inside. But I don’t know how to read very well, so I didn’t understand it.” Ethan smiled and let it drop. He handed Lily an envelope of his own. “A belated holiday tip. Work hard in school.” He didn’t linger and left shortly after. Once the door closed, I stepped out of my room. Lily flashed me an “OK” sign. “Mission accomplished!” 6 On the final day of my vacation, I drove back to the city. As I was prepping my materials for a meeting the next day, I realized I had left a crucial document at the office. I needed to verify some data, and doing it the next morning would be cutting it too close. I only hesitated for a few seconds before grabbing my car keys and heading out. My apartment wasn’t far from the office—just a ten-minute drive. Our company occupied the top floor of a twenty-story building. Standing outside, I looked up at the lights glowing on the top floor and paused. Frank, the security guard returning from his patrol, spotted me. “Who’s there?” “Hey, Frank.” I waved. “Oh, it’s you, Summer.” Frank smiled. Having worked there for a few years, I was a familiar face. I asked him, “Is someone still up there this late?” Frank looked up. “I just came down from there. It’s your CEO, Mr. Sterling.” He clicked his tongue. “He’s been here since this morning, working non-stop. Guy’s a total workaholic.” … I slipped into the office, grabbed my document, and was trying to leave quietly when I noticed light spilling from the CEO’s office at the end of the hall. After a moment’s thought, I changed direction and walked toward it. I was about to knock but caught a glimpse inside through the open blinds. My raised hand stopped mid-air. Ethan was lying on the black leather sofa, his long legs slightly bent. He was wearing his pristine white dress shirt, but his tie hung loosely around his neck. The top two buttons were undone, revealing the sharp line of his collarbone. I froze, then gently pushed the door open, terrified of waking him. Ethan’s brows were slightly furrowed; even in sleep, he didn’t look at peace. In my memory, he was almost always like this. Those handsome brows rarely seemed to relax. But I also remembered a time when Ethan showed an incredibly gentle side. It was the spring of our junior year. We had been desk partners for a year. He was the math rep, and I was the biology rep. That afternoon, the teacher sent us to the print shop outside the school gates to pick up some test papers. As soon as I stepped out of the gate, I ran into my grandma, who had come to visit me. She was thrilled. “Summer! I was just wondering how I was going to get inside!” Our school usually didn’t allow outsiders in. She had taken a long bus ride from our small hometown, transferring multiple times, and managed to spot me right as she arrived. She held my hand and chattered away. Ethan was standing a short distance away, waiting for me. My grandma asked me, “Summer, did you share the homemade fudge brownies I asked you to give your classmates last week? Did they like them?” I smiled. “They loved them. They all said you’re a great cook.” “That’s wonderful!” The wrinkles on her face deepened with her smile. But I had lied. I ate all those brownies myself. At first, I offered them to my roommates, but I accidentally saw them throwing the bag into the trash. “It looks dirty. You’ll get sick eating that,” they had said. I couldn’t stand seeing my grandma’s hard work trashed like that. And as a teenager, I had my pride. So I ate every single one of those leftover brownies by myself. I asked my grandma to wait for me by the print shop. I told her I’d take her to get food as soon as I got the papers. But there was a problem with the biology tests, so I had to call the teacher to sort it out. When I finally came out, I saw Ethan keeping my grandma company. I heard my grandma ask him, “Did Summer share any of my brownies with you?” Ethan paused for a second, then smiled. “She did. They were delicious.” Hearing this, my grandma beamed even brighter. She immediately pulled a small bag from her tote bag, her eyes full of hope. “I have more right here. Do you want some?” Older folks are like that—they always instinctively save what they think is best for the younger generation. To my grandma, her homemade brownies were the absolute best thing she could offer her granddaughter to share with her friends. I looked at Ethan nervously. But to my surprise, he reached out, took a piece of the fudge, and ate it without hesitation. “Thank you, Nana.” His eyelashes were long, casting faint shadows under his eyes in the sunlight. His usually sharp features softened completely. I stared at him, mesmerized. I heard him praising me—telling her I had great grades, worked incredibly hard, was very kind, and had lots of friends. My grandma was so happy that day. And it was from that day on that I realized I kind of… liked him. 7 A secret crush is a chaotic, one-person war. I secretly paid attention to his every move, mimicking his little habits when he thought about problems, copying his handwriting. Even the slightest accidental physical contact between classes made my heart race. Just like that, I carefully collected these precious little moments. Before summer break of our junior year, I planned to confess my feelings to Ethan. But right around that time, rumors about him started spreading through the class. “I heard his mom and sister ran away because his dad beat them! And his dad went to prison last year for getting drunk and starting a riot!” “Are you serious? I always thought Ethan looked kind of dark and gloomy. He totally gives off the vibe of someone who would randomly punch you.” “It’s true. I heard violent tendencies are genetic. We better stay away from him.” “Oof, guess Ethan won’t be able to get a security clearance for a government job now.” Their tones were dripping with schadenfreude. I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped my head around and glared at them. “Someone’s just bitter that he always gets first place while you’re permanently stuck in second, huh?” The guy froze, then cursed: “Are you crazy?!” “You’re the crazy one! Rabid dog!” To be honest, I was usually very timid and rarely got into fierce arguments. Worse, I was the type who cried when I got angry. The argument barely started before my eyes were already red and welling up. So when Ethan walked into the classroom behind the teacher, the sight that greeted him was me, crying and cursing someone out, looking like an absolute mess. The guy and I were sent to stand in the hallway as punishment. The teacher asked us why we were fighting. We looked at each other and both chose to stay silent. He was silent out of guilt. I was silent because I was afraid Ethan would be hurt if he heard. … My secret crush also ended that summer. The day I finally gathered the courage to confess to him was the last day of summer break. Following an address from memory, I found Ethan’s house. It was an old, run-down alleyway, houses crammed together. Two or three people were peering into the courtyard of Ethan’s house. “He’s beating the kid again. It’s a sin!” “Shouldn’t we go stop him? What if he kills him?” “Don’t! Old Yang tried to break it up a few days ago, and that bastard hit Old Yang too!” I hurried forward just as a massive crash echoed from the courtyard. Through the gate, I saw the front door get kicked open. Ethan was thrown out onto the ground. “You little punk.” A tall man walked out and kicked Ethan squarely in the side. “You actually dared to hit back?!” The man was tall but heavily intoxicated, stumbling on his feet. Ethan wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, scrambled up, and tackled the man to the ground. “Why don’t you just die?!” “Why don’t you just die?!” Ethan wrestled with him. The man got enraged and hit back harder, cursing, “Even if I die, I’m taking you with me! You little punk, you think because you’re older now your wings are fully grown? Let me tell you, my blood flows in your veins! You’re my son, and you’ll never escape me for the rest of your life!” “Look! You look exactly like me when you hit people!” The man laughed manically. “You’re my son! My son!” Ethan’s raised fist froze in mid-air, then dropped in defeat. He stumbled to his feet, looking down at the man on the ground. The teenage boy had already grown very tall. He had the strength to protect himself now. “I am not like you,” Ethan said. “I am the valedictorian. I was before, and I will be in the future. I’m going to get into the best university, study the best major, and make something of myself. I’m going to walk a completely different path from you. “I am nothing like you.” His words dropped like a bomb in my heart. Suddenly, I understood why Ethan studied so desperately hard. Because he didn’t believe in fate. He wanted to change his destiny. Looking down at the love letter in my hand, I actually felt a wave of shame. Maybe I shouldn’t confess. To Ethan, it would probably just be a nuisance. A burden. I called the police. I waited until the cops arrived, then silently walked out of that alley. And buried my teenage crush deep in my heart. Until graduation. Ethan wasn’t just the valedictorian of our school; he was the state science fair champion. Flowers and applause surrounded him. Calls from Ivy League recruiters poured in constantly. Although I got into a decent state college, compared to Ethan, it felt completely insignificant. The gap between us was firmly established in that moment. My teenage crush ended amidst my endless hesitations and second-guessing. At the high school graduation ceremony. I stood next to Ethan, staring straight ahead, but tilting my head slightly toward him: “Ethan, I wish you a bright future.” Ethan paused for a second, his voice as clear and crisp as ever: “Thank you. I wish you a bright future too.” And with that, our youth drew to a close. 8 In the quiet office, I looked at the man in front of me. Ethan, you’ve made it to the top, so why don’t you look happy? A half-finished, cold cup of coffee sat on the coffee table, surrounded by scattered documents. Ethan looked genuinely exhausted. Dark shadows hung under his eyes, and a light stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked completely unguarded, and somehow, vulnerable. I stared at him for a few seconds, picked up his suit jacket from the side, and gently draped it over him. But the moment I let go, a hand firmly clamped around my wrist. I jolted, looking up to meet Ethan’s eyes, my heart skipping a beat. His gaze was a bit hazy at first, but quickly sharpened. His grip was tight, and I frowned in pain. Ethan loosened his grip, his voice raspy. “Why are you here?” I took a step back and replied, “I came back to grab a document. I saw the lights were on, so I came to check.” Ethan glanced at the jacket that had slid down to his lap. He stayed silent for two seconds, then got up to pour a glass of water. I was about to quietly slip out when I heard him call my name. I stopped. “Mr. Sterling, did you need something else?” He looked at me. A few seconds later, he said, “I’m sorry for having a bad attitude toward you in front of the interns earlier.” I didn’t expect him to apologize to me so suddenly. I quickly said, “It’s fine. It really was our team’s fault. I take full responsibility. Please don’t worry about it, Mr. Sterling.” Ethan paused. “You…” For some reason, I felt incredibly nervous. Just as my heart was about to jump into my throat, I heard his tone shift. “You should head home early. Drive safe.” “Will do, Mr. Sterling.” I softly opened the door and walked out, letting out a long breath. … I worked for five days straight. After clocking out on Friday, I went back to my apartment and slept like the dead. When I finally woke up, it was almost 10 PM. I picked up my phone and saw hundreds of new messages in the intern group chat. Maya, one of the interns, had lost a necklace. It was a jade Buddha her mom had specially gotten blessed at a temple for her. It meant a lot to her. She had searched everywhere but couldn’t find it, and was asking if anyone had seen it. “Could the cleaning lady have picked it up? What if she swept it away as trash?” I sent a voice memo to calm her down: “Don’t panic. Do you know roughly what time you lost it? I’ll check the security cameras for you.” Maya thought about it carefully. “Probably around 4 or 5 PM. I got hot and took off my jacket, maybe it fell off then.” As a director, I had access to the security footage, so I immediately pulled up today’s recordings. I found Maya’s desk and watched it back and forth several times. Finally, zooming in, I saw that when Maya took off her jacket, something fell from her person and was accidentally kicked under a desk by a passing coworker. I breathed a sigh of relief, screen-recorded the clip, and sent it to Maya. “Ahhhh, thank you so much, Summer! I’ll go get it on Monday!” “No problem. Glad we found it.” I exited the chat. I was about to close the security footage when my finger slipped on the mouse, jumping the video forward to 9 PM. Ethan’s figure flashed across the screen. I paused, surprised. Did Ethan really stay until 9 PM tonight? But then I felt confused. Ethan’s route out of the office didn’t pass by this area… Driven by curiosity, I clicked, rewinding the footage a few seconds. On the screen, Ethan appeared from one side, his target clear—he walked straight to my desk. Me: “?” He paused at my desk for two seconds. After he walked away, I could clearly see that a few caramel truffles had been left on my desk. My eyes widened, and I shot up straight in bed. There was candy on my desk almost every single day. I always assumed an early-arriving coworker was leaving them, and I ate them all without a second thought. Could it be… I hit the keyboard, pulling up the footage from the past few days. I skipped to 8 or 9 PM each night. Sure enough, I saw Ethan again. The one leaving the candy had always been him. Bzzzz— My phone vibrating broke my train of thought. Seeing the caller ID, my heart dropped. Why was Ethan calling me at this hour? I hit answer, but a strange woman’s voice came through. “Hello? Is this Summer Hastings?” “Yes, this is she. And you are…” “Mr. Sterling is drunk. You might need to come pick him up.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391846”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My sister, Lily, had gone to Silverton to meet her online boyfriend. After a week of whirlwind romance, the guy told her he preferred slender girls. He demanded she slim down to 70 pounds before contacting him again. I was furious. “Why didn’t he say that when you met? You’re 5’5” and 120 pounds, that’s a perfectly healthy weight! How could you possibly drop to 70 pounds? He’s just playing with you!” Lily nodded, agreeing with me, and soon started a new relationship. That was until she scrolled through her social media feed and saw his wedding photos. She completely lost it. She pressed a pillow over my face, suffocating me. “Christopher’s bride is only a tiny bit thinner than me! I could have been with him if I’d just lost a little weight, but you said it was impossible! You did it on purpose! You’re just jealous I found true love!” I gasped for air, and then I woke up. I was back on the day Lily returned from Silverton. My face remained calm. “What’s wrong with getting down to 70 pounds? Even 50 pounds isn’t impossible! True love is hard to find; any sacrifice is worth it!” In this life, I wholeheartedly supported her pursuit of true love. But this time, she was the one who regretted it bitterly. … “Big sis, you don’t know, Christopher is incredibly athletic! And so handsome!” Lily gushed, her eyes wide with adoration. “He’s 6’1”, with exquisite features, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist! The second son of Apex Corporation, rich and good-looking – I love him so much!” “But when we parted, he said he liked slender beauties and told me to get down to 70 pounds before I went back to him. What should I do?” Lily blurted out the entire story of her meeting her online boyfriend and the problem she faced, exactly as it had happened in my previous life. I sniffed, the lingering sensation of suffocation from the pillow still fresh in my memory. I thought back to before, when I’d painstakingly explained to her that 70 pounds at her height meant a BMI of 12.55 kg/m ², far below the healthy range. I’d even listed several fatal cases of anorexia, telling her Christopher was a liar and that his demand for her to lose weight was just an excuse to make her leave him. She’d listened. With her pretty face, she’d quickly found a decent boyfriend. But when she’d seen Christopher’s wedding photos and realized his bride was only slightly thinner than her, she’d been consumed by resentment. She’d blamed me for everything, saying I couldn’t stand to see her happy, that I was jealous she’d found true love. Seeing her distressed expression, a peculiar smile touched my lips. My gaze was firm as I said, “A socialite like Christopher, his wife will often be in the spotlight. Look at any famous actress; they’re all incredibly thin. Supermodel Kate Moss is practically skeletal, but she’s considered high fashion, isn’t she?” “As long as you have the determination, what’s wrong with 70 pounds? Even 50 pounds isn’t impossible!” Lily’s eyes lit up with wild joy. “Big sis, you think so too? I thought the same thing! For true love, what’s a little suffering?” To show my support, I immediately found an extremely strict “Celebrity Fasting Schedule” online. I analyzed it with a serious air, “You have a tendency to gain weight, so if you want to lose 50 pounds in a month, you have to be ruthless with yourself. From now on, you’ll follow this fasting plan.” Lily looked at the diet, which consisted almost entirely of water. First, she expressed concern, then nodded in resolute agreement, as if she could already see herself in a wedding dress. In two weeks, Lily had tormented herself into losing twenty pounds. Her once round cheeks began to hollow, her cheekbones protruded, and dark circles hung heavily under her eyes. Clumps of hair clogged the bathroom drain. Her prolonged low-carb diet had led to ketosis, filling the house with the smell of rotten apples. Watching Lily hold a cup with a few floating vegetable leaves for breakfast, our mom finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Lily, are you losing weight too quickly?” she asked, frowning, her eyes scanning Lily’s pale face. “Your complexion is so sallow; don’t ruin your health.” Lily was about to flare up, but I interjected, my tone confident and professional. “Mom, you don’t understand. This is called the fat-burning reaction.” I spoke nonsense with a straight face. “These are all toxins being metabolized. Once this phase passes, she’ll be completely transformed. Look at those actresses, which one hasn’t gone through this ‘ascension’ to become a goddess?” Upon hearing “ascension,” Lily’s dull eyes instantly brightened. She rushed into the bathroom, lifted her top, and started snapping photos of herself in the mirror. It had to be said, though her complexion was poor and her skin a little saggy from the weight loss, she did have an “A4 waist.” Her features looked more defined with the filter. Less than two minutes later, she burst out, phone in hand, a radiant smile on her face. “Big sis! Christopher saw my photos and said I look beautiful!” She shot a triumphant glance at Mom, then tilted her head back and gulped down the unpleasant vegetable juice. “Mom, did you hear that? Christopher likes me like this!” “But Lily, you shouldn’t bother Christopher too often. You agreed to only see him when you reached 70 pounds. Those wealthy bachelors don’t have much patience!” Lily quickly nodded. “I’ll surprise him when I get to 70 pounds.” Dad hadn’t said a word throughout the meal, but after, he quietly asked me, “Is that Christopher really a rich kid?” I looked at him as if he were slow. “You know ‘Apex Corporation,’ right? It’s his family’s company. The name is a combination of his and his brother’s names.” Dad said “Oh” with satisfaction, a proud smile on his face. A few days later, Lily’s beauty journey hit a snag. Her weight stalled at 90 pounds, completely unchanged for three whole days. She raged in her room, slamming the electronic scale. “Why isn’t it dropping? Why?!” Mom frantically swatted the apple out of my hand. “Eat, eat, eat! All you know is eating! Your sister is like that, and you can’t even help her think of a solution. What kind of big sister are you?” I gripped my finger, which had been nicked by the paring knife, blood dripping between my fingers. Mom ignored it. Ever since I was little, Mom and Dad had always emotionally blackmailed me by saying I was the older sister and had to act like one. Their idea of acting like an older sister was that I should suffer on Lily’s behalf, and she should get to enjoy all the good things. I retorted coldly, “What do you want me to do? Lose weight for her? Or convince her to give up?” Mom got even more agitated. “What nonsense are you talking about? How could she give up? Do you not want her to have a good life?” “If I could lose weight for her, wouldn’t you have made me do it a long time ago?” Mom was speechless. When we were in school, Mom would tell me Lily’s chore schedule in advance and make me do her cleaning. When Lily bullied classmates, Dad would drag me out and slap me in front of the bullied student’s parents, saying I’d instigated it. Dad saw the blood on the floor and impatiently asked what was going on. Mom quickly explained Lily’s stalled weight to him in detail, stating she was very anxious, and I was indifferent and even tried to make Lily give up. Now it was Dad’s turn to seriously criticize me. “Iris, how can you be like this? Your sister’s matter is huge. You should be helping to find a solution, not dragging your feet! Lily has the natural qualifications to marry into a prominent family; you can’t be jealous of that…” No wonder in my previous life, after Lily smothered me, Mom and Dad conspired to quietly bury me. They told everyone I was a disgrace and had run off with a married man. It turned out he also thought I was jealous of Lily’s beauty. Any lingering guilt I had vanished completely. I walked into Lily’s bedroom. “I heard that before Victoria’s Secret models walk the runway, they use special methods to achieve extreme figures. Things like ‘fairy tubes’ or powerful laxatives, where they eat, throw up, and get thin, not absorbing any calories.” Lily abruptly turned her head, staring at me intently. “Quick! Buy them for me! Buy them now!” I immediately placed an order for expedited delivery. When it arrived, I deliberately opened it in front of Mom. The transparent plastic tubes made my scalp prickle. “What is this stuff?” Mom asked suspiciously. “Imported dietary fiber tubes, they’re expensive, thousands of dollars a set,” I lied without batting an eyelid. “They’re for regulating Lily’s digestion, it’s all the rage in rich circles.” Mom’s mouth immediately closed when she heard the price, and she even cautiously touched them a couple of times. Late at night, heart-wrenching retching sounds came from the bathroom, sending chills down my spine. Mom knocked on the bathroom door, but got no response. She crept to my bedroom door and whispered, “What’s wrong with Lily? That sound makes my heart pound!” I rolled over, lazily responding, “Nothing, she’s practicing singing. She wants to surprise Christopher by singing ‘Love You Till Death.’ Don’t disturb her.” Mom mumbled something about “that child really working hard” and returned to her bedroom. I lay in the dark, listening to her dry heaves, a smirk on my face. To be a wealthy socialite, she was indeed working hard. Finally, Lily reached 70 pounds. Dad was ecstatic. He hosted a celebration party for Lily at home, inviting all our aunts and uncles. Also present was Mr. Harrison, a limping shrimp farmer from our hometown. Dad quietly told me, “Mr. Harrison is very wealthy. He just has a slight limp in his right foot. What does a limp matter? As long as he has money, right? You’re not like your sister, you don’t have the luxury to pick and choose! You just need a comfortable life!” I scoffed, a laugh escaping me. In Dad’s eyes, even marrying a limping man was me aiming high! “What if I don’t agree?” “Don’t make trouble! It’s good enough that he’s willing!” I was in the middle of confronting Dad when Lily emerged from her bedroom, wearing elegant makeup. The chatter among our relatives instantly ceased. Aunt Mae’s eyes widened, and she forgot to crack the melon seeds in her hand. Aunt Carol covered her mouth, nearly gasping aloud. Lily thought everyone was stunned by her beauty, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. Aunt Mae opened her mouth, then saw Mom and Dad’s triumphant faces and ultimately said nothing. Dad began to boast. “My Lily’s boyfriend comes from a prominent family in Silverton. The bar for marrying into such a family is high; the weight standard is strictly that of a supermodel. Fortunately, our girl is dedicated. After three months of rigorous figure management, she finally met the standard and will be getting married soon.” “Lily’s wedding is set. Now, what worries me most is our elder daughter.” Dad’s topic shifted, his gaze falling on me and Mr. Harrison. “Though Iris’s figure and looks are not as good as her sister’s, she’s been independent and strong-willed since childhood, perfect for settling down.” This was the first time in two lives Dad had ever complimented me, but it felt worse than being scolded. What did he mean, independent since childhood? It was because ever since Lily was born, I became the older sister and had to act like one. I had to do my own things, and I had to do my sister’s things for her. Mr. Harrison quickly chimed in. “Uncle, don’t say that. Iris is a good girl; it would be my blessing if things worked out.” I shot him a disgusted look. My cousin had told me that Mr. Harrison had a strange personality, hadn’t found a partner in his thirties, and might even be gay. He was also a heavy gambler, and his limp was supposedly from being beaten after losing too much and failing to pay up. Our relatives watched, eager for drama. I would never agree to this. “Hey! She and Lily are incomparable…” “Let’s exchange contact info. We should keep in touch.” Mr. Harrison interrupted Dad, holding out a QR code to me. Given that he’d stopped Dad, I scanned the code, saved him as “Limping Comrade,” and then ignored him completely. The entire dinner was filled with Mom and Dad’s bragging, as if Lily had already become the wealthiest person in the city. The day we left for Silverton, Lily specifically chose a tight, strappy red dress. It drew curious glances from everyone we passed. Lily put on her sunglasses, chin held high, and looked at my slightly plump figure with disdain. “I’m turning heads everywhere; being thin truly is the ultimate.” I nodded vigorously in agreement. “Yes, beauty lies in the bones!” Lily was overjoyed to hear this. Once we reached Silverton, she headed straight for the five-star hotel Christopher always booked. She wanted to surprise him. The elevator doors opened, and she bumped right into Christopher, who was on his way out. Lily excitedly threw her arms open and lunged at him. “Darling! I’m 70 pounds!” Christopher stiffened, a flicker of disgust passing through his eyes. “Li… Lily?” he stammered. “You… you’re amazing, I’m stunned. But there’s an urgent company matter, I have to go abroad for a month! Leaving immediately! Otherwise, I’ll miss my flight! Wait for me to come back!” As the elevator doors closed, I saw the look of sheer relief on his face. Lily turned abruptly, a little dazed. I thought she’d understood, but her reaction was: “Big sis, was he touched by me?” “He looked at me with such shock just now. He must not have expected me to be so hard on myself for him, right? But why didn’t he take me with him?” I curled my lips. “Yes, why indeed?” “Perhaps he still thinks 70 pounds is a bit too much? After all, those supermodels are all skin and bones!” Lily mused. I silently agreed. “If he still thinks it’s not enough, then I’ll keep losing weight. I’ll go down to 52 pounds, which means ‘I love you’! I want to be his cherished bride! I’ll let him see an even more perfect me in a month!” “Mom and Dad won’t agree,” I reminded her promptly. She immediately called Mom and Dad, saying Christopher had agreed to marry her and she needed to stay in Silverton to prepare for the wedding. She also asked them to transfer ten thousand dollars for her wedding preparations. Less than ten minutes later, twenty thousand dollars was directly deposited. Any lingering tenderness in my heart completely vanished. Mom had chased me for three days to pay back the twenty-eight dollars for an air conditioner cover she’d bought me. Lily merely opened her mouth, and they poured everything they had into her. Was I even their real daughter? Lily rented an apartment in Silverton and began her “ascension” journey. Every day, she survived only on vitamin supplements. Occasionally, she’d call me to complain. “Big sis, I’m so hungry, my heart is racing…” I would encourage her. “Hold on, you’ll soon have an ‘ultimately slender’ soul.” And she would reignite her confidence. Mom and Dad worried that Lily’s wedding preparations might not be lavish enough for a wealthy family, fearing she’d suffer after marriage. They demanded Mr. Harrison front fifty thousand dollars to help Lily with her wedding expenses. They also hoped I’d understand that the Davies were a prominent family, and Mr. Harrison’s family couldn’t compare! I just wanted to curse. Fortunately, Mr. Harrison could distinguish right from wrong. He told me that the first time he came to my house, he already knew my family status. He was on my side and told me to let him know if I needed any help. I asked him to pretend to be my boyfriend to appease Mom and Dad, but not to give them any money, and he played his part perfectly. Soon, Lily’s weight settled at 52 pounds. She happily video-called me. In the video, she was wearing a princess dress, twirling in front of a mirror. Her cheekbones were prominent, her eye sockets deeply sunken, and her limbs were so thin you could count every bone, like a living skeleton. “Big sis, how do I look?” “So beautiful! Lily, you have amazing willpower! Long live love!” I cheered for her. She told me she had custom-ordered a wedding dress and booked the largest commercial square screen below Christopher’s company building, preparing to officially propose to Christopher. I said I would come to her proposal ceremony to witness her shining moment! “You can come, but don’t be jealous, okay?” Lily teased me over the phone, her voice brimming with pride. I teased back, “Not jealous, just full of hate!” She thought I was joking, but I was telling the truth. Silverton’s most bustling commercial square was teeming with people. Suddenly, the advertisements on the large screen transformed into a declaration of love. “Christopher, I love you! I want to be your cherished bride!” Colorful heart shapes filled the screen, incredibly romantic! Lily stood in the center of the square, dressed in her wedding gown, waving to the onlookers. A chorus of screams erupted from the crowd. Cell phone cameras furiously filmed her. Lily’s face was beaming with pride as she held the microphone and loudly declared her love. “Christopher! Look! I’ve become the slender girl you like most! Thinner than any celebrity! This is the strength your love gave me! I went from 120 pounds to 52 pounds, enduring a lot of hardship, but for you, it’s all worth it!” The scene erupted. Christopher didn’t appear. Lily called out again, “Christopher! I know you’re watching! Come out now! I’m waiting for you to take me home…” Thunderous applause filled the square. Still, Christopher didn’t appear. After a few awkward minutes, a handsome man walked up to Lily. He handed her a letter. Lily took the letter and excitedly showed it off to the crowd. “Christopher wrote it, he’s quite romantic! I’ll share it with everyone!” She eagerly tore open the envelope. The moment she unfolded the letter, her face instantly turned ashen, and she collapsed to the ground. She stared intently at the words on the letter, unable to utter a sound. The onlookers, always eager for a show, started to jeer. “Read it out! Is it a proposal vow from the wealthy heir?” “Don’t be shy, beautiful, let us share in your joy!” Someone held up their phone, live-streaming. “Folks, this is the ruthless person who lost 52 pounds for love! Look at how touched she is!” Lily sat on the ground, completely distraught. She suddenly lunged to stuff the letter into her mouth. I quickly stepped forward to “help” her. I gently but firmly pulled the crumpled letter from her hand. “I’m her sister; I’ll read it for her.” Lily rose, trying to snatch it back, but I sidestepped. “Lily, I’ve never liked you. Asking you to lose to 70 pounds was purely to make you back off. I can’t believe you actually did it!” I declared indignantly, shouting to the crowd, “What a scumbag!” I continued reading. “When I saw you at 70 pounds, I was already scared. And now 52 pounds! You’re completely insane! The first time I didn’t reject you wasn’t because I liked you. When something’s offered, well, you know how men are. I didn’t want to say anything too harsh, but I was afraid you’d be misguided. Go home, stop this nonsense. We can still be friends!” After reading, I adopted a protective sister stance and demanded that everyone help my sister get justice. Christopher probably thought Lily would save face, quietly take the letter, and leave. But I definitely intended to fan the flames. “Holy crap, this guy is such a jerk, but this girl is also a freak.” “I knew it, who would like a skeleton like that? Turns out she was just played.” The live stream comments exploded, filling the screen with “Clown,” “Serves her right,” and “LOL.” Lily lay on the ground, sobbing. Her proud love, the figure she’d fought so hard for, had now become a complete joke. “No… this isn’t real…” I helped her up, wiping her tears. “Wake up, he’s a liar!” The onlookers also started to chime in. “Yes, girl, a man like that isn’t worth ruining yourself over.” “Don’t be so vain!” Lily’s public humiliation was utterly boundless. She suddenly rolled her eyes and fainted. After being rushed to the hospital, the doctor shook his head at the test results. “Severe malnutrition, electrolyte imbalance, multiple organ dysfunction. This isn’t weight loss; it’s slow suicide! If she continues like this, she’ll be headed straight for the crematorium.” Lily quieted down, but online public opinion soared. The online video titles were more sensational than the last. “Skeleton Bride Publicly Demands Love: Scumbag or True Love?” “Starving Herself to a Corpse for a Wealthy Marriage: Is This Human Perversion or Moral Decay?” “This girl’s brain must be fried, 52 pounds? My dog weighs more than her.” “This whole family is strange. The sister even read out such nasty words from the guy; clearly, apples don’t fall far from the tree.” I sat on a hospital bench, scrolling through these comments, feeling completely unfazed. Mom and Dad arrived, dusty and disheveled, rushing straight to me. Dad grabbed my collar, and before I could speak, a slap landed across my face.

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I rushed back from out of town to attend my nephew’s parent-teacher conference, only to be mistaken for a kept man by my future brother-in-law. He brought a group of his buddies, smashing classroom furniture, and repeatedly declared that I would pay the price. The moment I stepped through the door, he struck me with a stick, sending me sprawling to my knees. “You lowlife, daring to seduce my wife and trying to mess with my son? If I don’t teach you a lesson today, I’ve lived for nothing!” “Once I cripple you and you’re bedridden for the rest of your life, let’s see how you leech off rich women then!” He, in front of numerous parents, repeatedly struck me with a toilet mop handle. I covered my head, scrambling away like a stray dog, while his laughter grew increasingly maniacal. A second before I lost consciousness, my sister finally burst into the classroom. 1 When I received a call from my nephew’s teacher saying someone claiming to be the child’s father was causing trouble, I floored the gas pedal and sped to the school. My brother-in-law had passed away five years ago, and the more I thought about it, the more frightened I became. I called my sister several times on the way, but all calls went unanswered. Then I remembered, she hadn’t paid much attention to my nephew’s school affairs these past few years, probably didn’t even know which way the classroom door opened. So I headed upstairs myself, phone clutched in hand, ready to call the police at any moment. Before I even reached the classroom, the tumultuous noise already threatened to shake the building apart. A man’s vulgar curses pierced my ears. “Don’t blame me for interrupting the parent-teacher conference. This kept man outside is practically riding over my head!” “He sends my wife harassing messages all day, hotel receipts, expense statements—he’s spent all her dowry money!” “And today, he brazenly wants to attend my son’s parent-teacher conference? How am I supposed to tolerate that?” “Any decent person would be furious!” “I’m a fitness influencer, half a public figure, at least. Today, I’m making him pay for his actions!” Hearing this, I hurriedly quickened my pace. The moment I reached the classroom door, a group of parents were stirred into righteous indignation by his words. “Go ahead, buddy! We’ll pretend we didn’t see anything! The parent-teacher conference can wait; we absolutely can’t let a kept man like that off the hook!” “I despise scum who break up families, born of a mother but raised by no one!” The man, encouraged by the cheers, rolled up his sleeves, eager for a fight. “Thanks for the support, everyone. You don’t mind if I livestream this, do you? Let the whole internet recognize that kept man!” The more I listened, the more something felt wrong. Standing at the door, I craned my neck to look inside, only to lock eyes with a familiar face. Wasn’t that Liam Ellis, my sister’s soon-to-be new husband? I’d been living on my own these past few years after my family kicked me out for not marrying, so I’d only seen his photos on my sister’s social media. My sister had mentioned he was a fitness influencer, and I’d even thought about asking him for some pointers. But my sister said there’d be plenty of opportunities after they got married, and the matter was dropped. Now, looking at his face, red with rage, I quickly pulled out my phone to call my sister. I called three times, still no answer. I sent her a message. 【Did you do something to upset Liam? He’s causing a scene in our nephew’s classroom!】 【Now that your career’s taking off, you can’t be fickle. If there’s a misunderstanding, clear it up with him quickly! Mom and Dad are already angry enough about my situation; if your wedding has any problems, it’ll kill them!】 Just as I sent the second message, a pair of clean athletic shoes suddenly appeared before me. Before I could even look up, my short hair was violently yanked. A powerful force dragged my entire body into the classroom. Then a kick landed squarely on my lower back, sending me sprawling to the ground, out of control. When I looked up, a phone was practically shoved into my mouth. Liam snarled, “Everyone, take a good look! This is the kept man I was talking about!” “He was just hiding by the door, probably heard me talking and didn’t dare come in!” “What, you do something so disgusting, and you’re still afraid to admit it? If I were you, I’d hide my face in my pants when I went out!” With that, he tightened his grip, and the camera directly smacked my lip. A professional fitness enthusiast’s blow was not light; my lip quickly swelled up into a large lump. Seeing my miserable state, not a single person around stepped forward to defend me. Instead, they pointed fingers and cursed at me. My lips were numb for about ten seconds before I recovered, then I looked up at Liam and urgently began: “You’ve misunderstood, I’m not a kept man, I—” Before I could finish, he swung his sports bag, forcefully hitting me in the face. Blood immediately gushed from my nose, and my phone fell to the side, its screen cracking. He snatched it up, clutching it in his hand, and said coldly, “Still saying it’s not you! This is the phone my wife bought! I even screenshotted the payment bill! You just wait for the lawsuit and pay back the money!” 2 I wanted to explain that it was my sister’s birthday gift to me last year, a way for her to encourage me to go home and apologize to Mom and Dad. But the words caught in my throat, replaced by a gush of metallic-tasting liquid. It choked me, and I clutched my chest, coughing. Liam looked up at the surrounding parents, roaring, “See that? I just lightly tapped him, and a grown man can be this weak? What an act!” “No wonder my wife spent her dowry money on him! A man like this is utterly despicable!” My face flushed crimson, my eyes streaked with blood. The parents in the classroom looked at me with venomous, hateful stares. I furrowed my brow, suppressing the indignation, and spoke sternly, “Liam, I told you I’m not a kept man. How exactly did you come to that conclusion?” After all, he was my future brother-in-law, and I wanted to avoid a nasty public spectacle later on. I wanted him to show proof; business dealings often required social graces. If it truly was my sister who had wronged him, I was prepared to apologize on her behalf. But hearing my words, his anger surged. He shoved the camera closer to my face. “See that, everyone? On the verge of death and still won’t admit it!” “If I don’t make you understand what you’re dying for today, I’ve wasted my time coming here!” With that, he put a lit cigarette in his mouth, then pulled out another phone and opened it in front of me. Soon, several photos of me and my nephew at an amusement park appeared. Liam snorted coldly, “What do you have to say now?” “These were found on my wife’s phone! You really hid it well, reaching out to my son to climb up the ladder! I’m warning you today, if you touch a single hair on my son’s head again, I’ll use you as a barbell!” My brows knitted tightly; all my words instantly became powerless. That was just for my nephew’s birthday. My sister didn’t have time to accompany him, so I took him to the amusement park to take photos for her to see, never imagining it would lead to such a misunderstanding. Seeing my silence, he said coldly, “Nothing to say, huh? Brothers, hit him! Just leave him enough breath to speak!” “Ruin his face, let’s see how he leeches off rich women then!” As a group of muscular men rolled up their sleeves, ready to surround me, I quickly propped myself up to explain, but opening my mouth tore at the blood scab on my lip, making me gasp in pain. “You’ve misunderstood, I’m his uncle! Eleanor Carter is my sister, we’re siblings!” Liam glanced at me, scoffing disdainfully. “Siblings? Her own mother doesn’t even know she has a son!” “I’m about to marry my wife, and I’ve never once heard her mention having a brother!” “What kind of brother are you? A lover? Are you trying to fool me like I’m an idiot? If I don’t teach you a lesson today, you really won’t know what kind of trash you are!” His curses stunned me. I never imagined my mother would be so angry as to disown me! Sweating profusely, I frantically asked the surrounding parents to call the police for me. But no one bothered to respond. Everyone merely looked on, enjoying the show. Someone even picked up a pencil from a desk and threw it at my head. The pencil lead lodged in my scalp, and the shaft snapped on impact. My face contorted in pain. Liam’s expression grew even more ominous. Anger burned in his eyes; he was about to step forward and attack me. I quickly spoke, “I’ll call my mom, alright? I’ll put it on speaker, and you listen!” A flicker of suspicion crossed Liam’s eyes, and he tossed my phone back in front of me. “You try to trick me, and you’re dead!” While I was dialing, Liam’s crew of brothers were already flexing their muscles, eyeing me menacingly. The phone rang, and my heart leaped into my throat. The next second, my mom abruptly hung up, then added me to her blacklist. My phone hit the ground, and my face instantly turned ashen. Liam sneered. “My mother-in-law probably thinks you’re making harassing calls. You’re still putting on an act!” Thinking of my nephew, my eyes lit up again. “Wait, where’s my nephew? He can vouch for me. I’m here to attend his parent-teacher conference today!” At that, Liam quickly stepped forward and delivered a hard punch to my face. A wisdom tooth instantly fell from my mouth to the ground, faintly stained with blood. “Enough! I told you you don’t deserve to mention my son! Stay away from him from now on!” 3 From the whispers of the surrounding parents, I gathered that all the students in the class had been taken to the office by the teacher. No wonder the teacher hadn’t shown up yet. She was already overwhelmed just managing those kids. Now, truly, no one could vouch for me. I was sweating profusely in a panic, but Liam gave me no time to think. With a single glance, his group of brothers immediately began trashing the classroom. Their wild, uncontrolled actions forced even the watching parents to retreat from the classroom. This became the muscular men’s personal domain for revenge. Liam aimed his livestream camera at the classroom, panning around. Desks and chairs lay shattered, white paint flaked off the walls. In just five minutes, the perfectly fine classroom was reduced to utter wreckage. The front and back blackboards were splashed with red paint, a terrifying and unsettling sight. He saw this and laughed even more wildly and uncontrollably. Speaking to the camera: “This kept man said he wanted to attend my son’s parent-teacher conference. Today, I’ll give him a memorable one!” “Working out and lifting weights every day, wasn’t it all for this?” Seeing this, I couldn’t help but interject, “If my sister finds out what you’ve done, you’ll regret it!” “Do you know what you’re doing? When my identity is revealed, you’ll be truly finished!” He curled one side of his lip, his face full of mockery. “Folks, this kept man is threatening me! I’m so scared! Stealing my woman and then trying to dominate me!” With that, he stepped forward and raised his bag, striking my head again. After several heavy blows, my head reeled, and I lost the ability to think. He furiously stormed out the door. More and more parents gathered outside; people from adjacent classrooms were drawn in. Now, many had their phones pointed at my face, recording. My weak pleas for help were drowned out by the insults. I couldn’t even manage to crawl to get my phone back and call the police. I forced myself to prop up my upper body, but just as my hand brushed the edge of my phone, a heavy blow landed on my back. Liam stood before me, mop in hand, his face etched with fury. A faint, disgusting yellow stain still clung to it. “Run? Where do you think you’re going to run!” “Today, the only person walking out of here standing is me!” “If I don’t teach you a lesson, my one hundred and fifty pounds were lifted in vain!” I was beaten to the ground, my gaze falling on the onlookers outside the window. Everyone was cheering for Liam. I was the sole culprit. The vast classroom had no clear space left to stand. A moment later, one of his brothers stepped forward and kicked me hard. My body felt weak and limp, like a piece of rotting flesh. My suit was drenched in blood and covered in dust, making me look utterly pathetic. “This is too easy for him! Doesn’t he want to attend a parent-teacher conference? We’ll give him a chance!” In Liam’s bloodthirsty, excited gaze, he said, “Drag him to the broadcast room and make him confess to the whole school that he’s a kept man!” Hearing this, I widened my eyes in terror, shaking my head desperately. Two muscular men grabbed me by my armpits, one on each side, hoisting me up. My lower body dragged on the ground; I was as helpless as a chick. As I struggled, my car keys fell from my pocket. Liam’s eyes instantly turned bloodshot. He angrily picked them up and violently smashed them into my face. The keyring grazed my temple, leaving a fresh red mark. “You kept man! You even had my wife buy you a car! She never even agreed to buy one for me! How dare you!” With that, he glanced at the car model, his gaze growing increasingly vicious. A parent, kindly watching the show, quickly spoke up. “Is it that one downstairs? I think I saw him get out of it just now! He drove it right in, not even worried about hitting a child. That kind of person has no conscience!” The moment the words left his mouth, Liam’s eyes blazed with fury. He immediately leaned over the railing and looked down.

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I spent seven years as the dirty little secret of my sister’s best friend. She was drunk—or playing at it—when she looked at me across the dimly lit VIP booth, a cruel, lazy smile on her lips. “Cole, I should just set you up with someone better. That way you can finally stop suffocating me, yeah?” My expression didn’t shift. I just looked at her and calmly said, “Okay.” Because I remembered another lifetime. A life where I didn’t agree. A life where I stubbornly married her anyway. In that life, she treated our marriage like a prison sentence. She froze me out, entirely indifferent to my existence. And when a semi-truck ran a red light and T-boned my car, leaving me bleeding out on the asphalt, she was miles away, watching the Northern Lights with her ex-boyfriend. That was when I finally learned that human hearts are fickle, fleeting things. You cannot beg someone to love you. … I said “okay,” and Stella froze. She hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. The amber lighting in the private room flickered, casting shadows over her bare, un-made-up face. There was a flush to her cheeks, but her eyes were razor-sharp, completely devoid of the drunkenness she had been feigning just seconds before. I sat perfectly straight, a faint, meaningless smile lingering on my lips as I looked back at her. Stella dropped the lazy, teasing act. Her voice hardened, taking on a defensive edge. “Cole, did you hear a single word I just said?” I nodded once. “Loud and clear.” In the past, if she had said something like that, I would have panicked. I would have feigned anger, cut her off, and begged her not to joke about giving me away. But now, I felt like a ghost inhabiting my own body. I felt absolutely nothing. It was like listening to the weather report for a city I didn’t live in. “Cole, you…” Before she could finish her sentence, my older sister, Tessa, pushed the heavy door open, letting in a blast of cold air from the main bar. She had a wicked, entertained grin on her face. “Guess who I just saw out there?” Without waiting for a response, Tessa forged ahead. “Your ex, Christian. He looks totally trashed. A couple of cougars were basically dragging him toward the back rooms…” Stella shot up from the leather sofa like she’d been burned. She shoved past the table, practically sprinting out into the corridor. A minute later, the unmistakable sound of a scuffle—shouting, a glass shattering violently against the hardwood—echoed down the hall. I stayed right where I was, casually peeling a mandarin orange from the fruit platter. Stella loved fresh fruit, but she hated the sticky feeling of peeling it. For seven years, I had painstakingly peeled everything for her, placing the segments on a napkin just so she would take a bite. Tessa used to watch me do it and laugh. “You treat her better than you treat your own flesh and blood. Don’t tell me you’re in love with her, little brother.” I had almost confessed so many times. But Stella would always interlock her arm with mine, flashing a sweet, warning smile at my sister. “Maybe Cole just thinks I’m a better sister than you are. Is it a crime for him to spoil me?” Eventually, I learned the script. She didn’t want anyone to know about us. So, I swallowed the truth. For seven years, not a single soul knew we were together. Tessa stood in the doorway now, craning her neck to see if she needed to break up the fight. She glanced back at me, still eating my fruit, and raised an eyebrow. “Your girl Stella is throwing hands out there. You’re really not going to play knight in shining armor?” I swallowed the last slice of citrus and shook my head. “It’s a catfight over a guy. Why would I get in the middle of that?” Tessa looked surprised, but she didn’t press it. She jogged out to help. I sat alone in the quiet hum of the booth. I waited until the shouting died down completely before I finally stood up and walked out into the corridor. The first thing I saw was Stella. Both of her hands were tightly wrapped around a man’s arm. It was Christian. The ghost of her past. The one she could never quite let go of. He was heavily intoxicated, his body slumped against hers like he had no bones. And Stella didn’t push him away. Instead, she held him up, pulling him flush against her side. Her dark eyes were blazing with anger at whoever had touched him, but beneath the rage was a tender, aching worry she didn’t even realize she was showing. Tessa saw me and nudged my shoulder. “Cole, what do you think? Any chance those two are going to rekindle the flame?” She didn’t speak softly. Stella heard every word. Her head snapped up, her eyes locking onto mine where I stood a few feet away. For a fraction of a second, a flicker of guilt flashed across her face. “I have no intention of getting back together with him,” she said, her voice defensively loud. “He’s just drunk. I’m helping him out.” I gave her a soft, accommodating smile. “I get it, Stella. Christian looks like he can barely stand. You should get him home safely.” Stella frowned, a subtle tightening of her jaw, as if my casual, distant tone bothered her. But she didn’t reject the out I gave her. As she turned to leave, supporting his weight, she called back to my sister. “You two head home soon, okay? Don’t stay out too late.” Watching their retreating backs, a familiar, needle-like pain pricked at my chest. It was just so profoundly, bitterly ironic. In my previous life, I had gotten exactly what I wanted. I married Stella. But I never got the happiness I bargained for. On my birthday, I had just wanted a quiet dinner at home. She had scoffed, slipping on her coat. “I’m slammed with work. Can you stop nagging me for one night?” An hour later, I saw Christian’s Instagram story: a picture of the two of them hitting the slopes in Aspen. When an acute stomach ulcer left me doubled over in agony, I begged her to drive me to the ER. She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not a doctor, Cole. If you’re dying, call a cab. What do you expect me to do about it?” The next day, I saw her in the same hospital lobby, keeping Christian company for a mild sinus infection. The bitter end came on our anniversary. I had prepared a surprise, rushing home, only to be struck by a speeding car. When the ER trauma surgeon called her emergency contact number, begging for consent to operate, her voice over the speakerphone was ice-cold. “Is he dead yet? If he’s not dead, don’t bother me.” And then, right before the line went dead, I heard Christian’s exhilarated voice in the background: “Stella, look! The aurora is incredible. This trip was so worth it.” As the dial tone hummed, the blood from my crushed ribs soaked through the stark white hospital sheets. Remembering the agonizing, suffocating phantom pain of a dying heart, I gasped for air, clutching my chest in the present. I let out a pale, hollow laugh. Stella, since you feel my love is such a burden, I simply won’t love you anymore. Tessa and I didn’t stay out long. We went home early that night. When I woke up the next morning, groggy and disoriented, my phone screen lit up. It was a message from Christian. He had sent a picture of Stella, fast asleep, tangled in the sheets of his bed. The caption read: Stella stayed over to take care of me last night. I stared at the screen. I felt nothing. No jealousy, no rage. Just a profound emptiness. I typed a single letter: K. He wasn’t satisfied. A few minutes later, another photo buzzed through. Breakfast. Two plates. A perfectly cooked heart-shaped fried egg. Stella made me breakfast, he wrote. Even cut the egg into a little heart. During our seven years together, Stella had never once stepped foot in my kitchen. She used to tell me she was raised like a princess, and she wasn’t about to start scrubbing pots just because she had a boyfriend. So, to make sure she ate well, I had enrolled in an expensive, intensive culinary arts program. I made sure that whenever I was around, she always had a hot, gourmet meal waiting for her. Seeing what she was willing to do for Christian made me realize what a spectacular fool I had been. I put the phone down, didn’t bother replying, and went back to eating my own cold toast. Five minutes later, Stella texted. She didn’t mention where she was. She just demanded, casually: “Those homemade tortellini you made last week were amazing. Make another batch and bring it to my office for lunch.” “Oh, and remember, no basil.” The screen glared back at me. My eyes darkened. Stella had never hated basil. In fact, she loved it. She used to order extra pesto whenever we went out for Italian. I sat in the quiet of my kitchen for a long moment. Then, I typed: Sure. I opened a delivery app, ordered a mediocre, mass-produced pasta dish from a chain restaurant, and had it delivered to her corporate lobby. That evening, Tessa and I went out to a newly opened steakhouse to celebrate a work win. We had barely sat down when I saw them. Stella and Christian, walking through the glass doors, their arms linked, laughing brightly at some private joke. The second Stella saw us, she instinctively dropped his arm and walked over. Christian’s smile faltered for a microsecond before he put on a charming grin and followed. “What a coincidence. Looks like they’re totally booked, though. You guys wouldn’t mind if we crashed your table, right?” Without waiting for an answer, Stella slid into the leather booth, directly next to me. Tessa’s eyes went wide. She immediately stood up to switch seats. “What are you doing? Why are you sitting next to my brother while your first love is standing right there?” Stella was practically shoved across the table to sit opposite me. She looked incredibly displeased, staring at me like she expected me to defend her. I avoided her gaze entirely. I pushed a menu toward Christian. “Go ahead and order whatever you’d like, Christian. My sister and I already put ours in.” He took the menu, chuckling smoothly. “You know, Cole, that lunch you made today was incredible. So much better than anything you can buy at a restaurant.” So, my suspicion was right. The tortellini she demanded was for him. I just smiled and took a sip of water. Tessa laughed, a bit of teasing pride in her voice. “He lost his mind a few years ago and took all these intensive culinary classes. He was the only guy in the room. I thought he’d quit, but he stuck with it.” “Now he can hold his own in a Michelin kitchen. Whoever ends up marrying him is going to be incredibly lucky.” Stella had been wearing a faint smile, but at Tessa’s words, the warmth vanished from her face. She took a slow sip of her wine, her tone cool. “Is Cole looking to start dating?” I looked up at her, feigning innocence. I thought about what she had said in the bar. I gave a slight nod. “I’m twenty-six. It’s probably time. If you know anyone good, Stella, I’d love an introduction.” “Finally!” Tessa slammed her hand on the table, thrilled. “I’ve been trying to set you up for years and you always shut me down! Now that you’re finally open to it, I am going to find you the perfect girl.” Stella’s lips were pressed into a thin, bloodless line. She stared at me unblinkingly, as if trying to dissect the lie on my face. Christian noticed the shift in her mood. He smiled pleasantly. “Cole is a lucky guy, having an older sister to look out for him. I’m almost jealous. Honestly, I think Stella would be…” “Don’t be ridiculous. Cole is like a little brother to me.” Before Tessa could react, Stella cut him off, her brow furrowed. The words sounded like a reprimand, but her expression betrayed a deep, unsettled panic. I nodded enthusiastically, backing her up. “Exactly. I’ve always seen Stella as a second sister. You shouldn’t make jokes like that, Christian.” “Besides,” I added smoothly, “I think you and Stella are a much better match.” Stella’s face darkened instantly. A storm brewed in her eyes, and she let out a sharp, breathless laugh. “Is that right? Fine. I’ll set you up with someone. You’d better make time to meet her.” “Sounds great. Thanks, Stella,” I said, my smile blindingly bright. I didn’t contact Stella for the next few days, and she didn’t reach out to me. Instead, Christian showed up at my apartment. Tessa was over, lounging on the couch, when I let him in. “Alright, what do you want?” Tessa asked, not bothering to mince words. Christian looked at me, feigning a sheepish smile. “Tess, you know Stella and I go way back. We’re each other’s first loves. We had our ups and downs, but the connection never died.” “I was an idiot for letting her go. I want to officially win her back. I’m going to propose that we start over, and I need your help setting it up.” In another lifetime, I would have yelled at him to get out. I would have boldly declared that Stella loved me. She would never agree to it, I would have said. But living through that past life had burned the delusion out of my brain. I knew the truth. She loved him. They really were made for each other. “Sure, why not?” Tessa shrugged. “It’s obvious she’s never gotten over you. If you make a big romantic gesture, she’ll definitely say yes.” Christian’s smile widened. He looked at me, his eyes gleaming with a strange, competitive triumph. I just shrugged, completely unbothered. Two days later, Tessa and Stella’s inner circle of friends devised a plan. They decided the best way to trigger a confession was an adrenaline-fueled setup. They booked a weekend at a rustic lakeside lodge in the Catskills, timing it perfectly with the town’s famous summer bonfire and fireworks festival. The lakeside was packed. I hated crowds, so I tried to hang back near the treeline. But Christian wasn’t about to let me escape. He grabbed my shoulder, dragging me straight to the front row, right up against the safety barricades. When the massive bonfire roared to life, shooting towering sparks into the night sky, Christian strategically flinched, stepping back until his shoulder brushed Stella’s. Stella saw him ‘trembling’ and her eyes softened with pure affection. She looped her arm through his, teasing him softly over the roar of the fire. “You know you hate fire, you idiot. Why did you insist on coming right to the front?” “Because you’re here,” he murmured, leaning in. “When I’m with you, I’m not scared of anything.” Her eyes practically melted. She reached out and intertwined her fingers tightly with his. Staring at their clasped hands, my mind drifted back to the early days of my marriage in that other life. I had been so hopelessly eager to build a home. I handled every chore, cooked every meal, trying to surround her with warmth. Until the night I went to pick her up from a bar. I stood in the shadows of the hallway and listened as she drunkenly slurred to Christian. “I feel like I didn’t marry a husband. I feel like I married my father. He suffocates me, Christian. He manages my life down to the minute. It’s exhausting.” “Not like you,” she had whispered. “You always knew how to give me space.” A sudden scream yanked me back to reality. A stray, massive dog had slipped off its leash and was tearing violently through the crowd, snapping its jaws. Panic erupted. People shoved each other, scrambling to get away. The dog was charging straight at me. I grabbed Tessa’s jacket to pull her back, but suddenly, a hard hand shoved me squarely between the shoulder blades. Before I could catch my balance, I was pushed forcefully over the wooden safety barricade, landing hard in the dirt on the wrong side of the fence. Screams and the chaotic noise of the crowd swelled around me. And then, through the sea of panicked bodies, I saw a slender figure running toward the barricade. For a split second, an old, pathetic instinct flared in my chest. A delusion that Stella was rushing to save me. But she didn’t even look down at where I had fallen. She vaulted right over my legs, throwing her arms around Christian, who had also stumbled over the line. Cole, what on earth were you hoping for? I wanted to laugh, but the bitter irony choked me. Thank God for Tessa. She fought her way through the chaos, grabbed my arm, and hauled me up, helping me limp away on a twisted ankle. Once we were out of the crush of the crowd, Tessa wiped the sweat from her forehead. “The proposal setup is ready by the garden. Come on, we have to go watch.” She slung my arm over her shoulder, supporting my weight as we hobbled toward the lodge’s courtyard. Stella’s friends had transformed the massive oak tree by the patio. Fairy lights shaped like hearts hung from the branches. Polaroids of Stella and Christian’s teenage years were clipped to twine. Old love letters. Ticket stubs. Christian stood in the center, holding a massive bouquet of pink roses—her favorite. He was speaking softly, pouring his heart out, asking for a second chance. Stella stood in front of him, absolutely stunned. A warm summer breeze drifted past, rustling the leaves. Even the wind seemed to be cheering for them. They were in love. They belonged together. Listening to the crowd cooing and cheering around me, I raised my hands and started clapping. “Say yes! Say yes!” I chanted loudly. Hearing my voice, Stella snapped her head toward me. Her eyes were wide with utter shock and horror. “Cole, are you out of your mind?!” she screamed over the music. “I am your girlfriend!”

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Arthur’s little secretary broke my favorite teacup. Furious, I punished her by making her act as my maid for the day. In retaliation, she turned around and climbed into Arthur’s bed, sending me photos to show off. “Mrs. Sterling, what makes you think you’re guaranteed to be the lady of the Sterling house forever?” “I’m younger and prettier than you. Who gets the last laugh is still up in the air.” I slapped her so hard she ended up in the hospital with tinnitus. Three days later, Arthur punished me by forcing me to kneel and apologize to his little secretary. Looking at the hickeys on his neck, I rewarded him with a slap too. Arthur touched the red mark on his face and chuckled. “Mrs. Sterling.” “It seems you have plenty of energy. How about I cut off your allowance? Let’s see how you throw your little princess tantrums then.” He exiled me to the suburbs for six whole months. Six months later, Arthur finally remembered me. He arrived at the villa door, acting like he was bestowing a great favor, and asked if I had learned my lesson. Carrying a designer bag, I had just stepped out of my boyfriend’s luxury car. I met Arthur’s shocked, slightly red eyes. My boyfriend laughed. “Mr. Sterling, if you won’t take care of your wife, she’ll just find someone else who will.” 1 Oliver thoughtfully opened the car door for me. “Chloe, remember to get a good night’s sleep tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow to go to the art exhibition.” I nodded, keeping my eyes straight ahead as I walked toward the villa. “Chloe!” Arthur’s exasperated voice rang out. With bloodshot eyes, he stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. “How can you be so cheap?” “I told you to reflect on your actions in the suburbs for six months, and this is how you reflect?” His eyes seemed to shoot fire as he looked back and forth between me and Oliver. “I was wondering why you didn’t send me a single message these past six months.” “Turns out you found another man to keep you a long time ago.” “Two-timing me. Are you that cheap?” I wasn’t angry; I just let out a soft sneer. “And what about you, Mr. Sterling?” “When we remarried, didn’t you promise to cut ties completely with Mia?” “Yet you’re still stringing her along, two-timing me.” “What right do you have to insult me?” We were just the pot calling the kettle black. We were exactly the same. Arthur was choked, unable to speak. But men never reflect on their own actions. Even when they’re in the wrong, they just look for another angle to attack you. For instance, he insulted my lowly background. “Back then, you couldn’t even afford to go to school. You couldn’t even scrape together $100 for monthly living expenses.” “Chloe, don’t forget, if I hadn’t funded your college education, if I hadn’t married you and given you resources and status, how could you possibly be where you are today?” His furious tone made him sound like a rabid dog. But I just looked at him flatly. “Even without you, relying on myself, I would still be exactly where I am today.” To me, men were just a stepping stone. That man could be Arthur, or it could be someone else. It made no difference. This was a truth I only understood after divorcing and remarrying him. The first divorce happened because Arthur cheated. Just like a cliché plot from a trashy CEO romance novel. He fell in love with his young, pretty secretary, Mia. At a cocktail party, the two of them ended up rolling around together, clothes disheveled. And just like every other woman in that situation, I threw a crazy fit, grabbing anything I could find and throwing it at them. Arthur, however, silently shielded Mia. He stared at me like I was insane. “Chloe, are you done throwing your tantrum?” “Look at yourself right now. You look like a shrew. Aren’t you embarrassed?” With red, swollen eyes, I screamed hoarsely. “Arthur, I’ve been with you since I was 18! Now that you have everything, you cheat on me. Have you no shame?!” Arthur sneered lightly and grabbed my wrist. “If you had any shame, you wouldn’t have given yourself to me when you were 18.” That single sentence completely shattered all the love I had for him. This man, whom I had loved so deeply I felt drunk on it… For the first time, he made me feel alienated, made me feel it wasn’t worth it. I couldn’t tolerate a single grain of sand in my eye, so I demanded a divorce. Arthur agreed very readily. After signing the divorce papers, he mockingly said to me, light as a feather: “Chloe, if you can’t survive out there, come find me. I might just give you a chance to remarry me.” Three months after the divorce. I searched all over Seattle for a job, but no one would hire me. In that moment, I finally understood Arthur’s words. I understood what he meant by “if you can’t survive.” At the same time, the projects Arthur was handling couldn’t proceed without me. Taking what we both needed, we remarried. At the time, I specifically warned Arthur. “Tell your little secretary to get lost. Keep her out of my sight.” “Otherwise, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” But she intentionally provoked me. If she wasn’t spilling water on my documents, she was breaking my teacup. I was just keeping things professional, punishing her according to office rules. But Arthur got angry. He punished me by exiling me to the suburbs to reflect for six months, and I obeyed. But now, why is Arthur the one getting so exasperated? I let out a cold laugh. “If there’s nothing else, please step aside, Mr. Sterling.” “I’ve been on dates all day. I’m very tired and need to go inside and rest.” Arthur gripped my wrist tightly. “Weren’t you so obsessed with me?” “Didn’t you use to check up on me every few days? Why don’t you care anymore?” He frowned, completely baffled. “Chloe, how did you turn into this?” 2 I paused. Was I the one who changed first? I turned my head to look at Arthur. “Mr. Sterling, is your memory failing you?” “You were the one who said that after we remarried, if you cheated even once, the marriage was automatically annulled.” “It was you who continued messing around with Mia after we remarried, and I generously chose not to make a fuss about it.” How dare you push your luck? And what’s this about checking up on you? That felt as distant as a past life. I had long since felt it was beneath me to do something like that. I looked at Arthur flatly, then shook off his hand. I even flicked imaginary dust off my sleeve where he had touched me. Seeing my actions, Arthur’s face instantly darkened. Oliver chuckled, proactively stepping between us. “Mr. Sterling, it seems Chloe doesn’t really want to see you. You should go back.” Arthur clenched his fists and glared at him. “This is between husband and wife. What right do you have to interrupt?” “Chloe.” Arthur frowned. “I came today to bring you back. My relationship with Mia isn’t rekindled.” “She’s only acting as my secretary temporarily. I’ll have her transferred in a few months.” “I told you this when we remarried.” “What happened before was a mistake. Mrs. Sterling, there will only ever be you.” I froze for a moment, looking down, wanting to laugh. “Mr. Sterling, you don’t need to explain this to me.” After all, before we remarried… Arthur was the one who disdained explaining things the most. If he slept with someone, he slept with them. He didn’t need excuses or reasons. Even when I caught him in the act, he was so self-righteous, saying casually: “Mrs. Sterling, you’re late.” “If you had come a little earlier, you might have caught a live show.” Because of his dismissive attitude, Mia never took me seriously. She intentionally broke my cups, ruined my clothes, and even secretly sold my designer bags for cheap. Relying on Arthur’s indulgence. She knew she wouldn’t be punished. So her behavior escalated day by day. Right now, looking into Arthur’s incredibly sincere eyes, I almost couldn’t resist throwing the provocative photo Mia sent me right in his face. And telling him coldly: “She already sent me pictures of you two in bed. What else is there to deny?” But I didn’t. I didn’t throw the photo. And I didn’t say the words to shut him down. I was too lazy to bother. I sighed, “Arthur, go back. I’m living a very happy life right now.” “Even though I haven’t seen you for six months, the upside is that my boyfriend is pretty great.” “Oh, right, how did you describe that little secretary of yours before?” I smiled mockingly. “A life assistant by day, a bed assistant by night.” “This boyfriend of mine is also very competent.” With every word I spoke, Arthur’s face turned a shade greener. Watching me hook my arm through Oliver’s, walking into the villa together like a perfect couple… “Chloe, you’re doing this on purpose!” The veins on the back of his hand bulged. He grabbed a rock from the ground and hurled it at Oliver. Oliver couldn’t dodge in time. The rock hit him squarely on the head, bright red blood streaming through his fingers. In that instant, my expression changed. “Oliver!” I frantically supported him and pulled out my phone to call an ambulance. “Hold on, I’m taking you to the hospital right now.” I didn’t spare Arthur a single glance. Arthur, however, let out a desolate, cold laugh. “Chloe, stop acting.” “You love me so much, how could you possibly fall in love with another man?” “Even if you put on a great performance,” “I’ll never believe it.” 3 My movements froze as countless fragmented memories drilled into my brain. The reason Arthur was so certain I wouldn’t fall for another man… Was because there was a precedent. I remembered back when Arthur first cheated on me and betrayed me. To make me make a mistake, He hired men to seduce me into cheating. He threw check after check in the faces of those male models. “Whoever can make Chloe fall for him,” “Gets this $1,000,000 check.” Those male models fought over it like madmen. They approached me like crazy. They even reported my every move, every single detail, back to Arthur. However, I was completely unaware of all this. I thought those men were “prey” I had carefully selected myself. But without exception, every single one was sent by Arthur. They used every trick in the book to seduce me. Every time the relationship was about to progress to the next step, I found myself unable to continue. “I’m sorry, I just can’t do this.” I grabbed my bag and fled in panic. I could only hastily break up with them. And every time I returned home… I was greeted by Arthur’s cold sarcasm. “Mrs. Sterling, did your recent little boyfriend fail to please you?” “Seems he wasn’t dedicated enough. Tsk, tsk, he zoned out while kissing you, and he wasn’t forceful enough either.” “Want me to find you a different one?” In that moment, I felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me. I felt subjected to absolute humiliation. “You’re stalking me?” Arthur laughed, completely unbothered. “Not stalking. Those little boyfriends were sent by me to serve you in the first place.” “The facts prove, Mrs. Sterling, that you really do love me.” “You love me so much that—” “You won’t even let any strange man near you.” I completely broke down, frantically demanding to know why Arthur would do such a thing. But he just watched me go crazy with absolute calm, even gently stroking my hair. “Mia is my little princess. She can’t leave me right now, and I don’t want to cut ties with her.” “Mrs. Sterling.” “Why don’t we just maintain an open marriage? Wouldn’t that be nice?” “You can keep up appearances in public and continue being Mrs. Sterling.” “And I can love whoever I want.” “For this, I was even generous enough to personally select little boyfriends for you. I’ve done everything I could, haven’t I?” Hearing those words back then, I thought it was completely absurd. But now. I could casually throw those exact words back at him. But when it was his turn to hear them… Why did Arthur get red eyes and become so furious? He even ran up to me to play the role of the deeply devoted husband. My thoughts returning to the present, I watched the blood pooling on Oliver’s head and my gaze turned cold. “Arthur, please get out of the way.” “You injured my boyfriend. Right now, I need to focus on treating him. I’ll settle the score with you later.” It was too late to wait for an ambulance. I helped Oliver into the car and buckled his seatbelt. “Oliver, hang in there a little longer.” “I’m taking you to the hospital.” With that, I got into the driver’s seat with practiced ease, turned the steering wheel, and the car’s engine roared to life. The mocking smile froze on Arthur’s face. He stared at me in shock. “Chloe, you… when did you learn how to drive?” I ignored him. For the past six months, he only cared about traveling the world with his little secretary. He had no idea how I was living my life. He had never truly understood me. I slammed on the gas, and the car sped away. “Chloe, if you dare drive away with that man today, we are completely finished!” But his voice was drowned out by the rising dust. Blown away by the wind. Impossible to hear. 4 The bleeding on Oliver’s head was stopped. The doctor required him to stay in the hospital for three days for observation, so I sat by his bed to keep him company. Even while asleep, Oliver called my name. “Chloe, don’t hurt Chloe.” My heart softened, and I held his hand. For the past six months, Oliver had been pursuing me. But I was a hard-hearted woman. I only ever held his hand, delaying any further progress. Even if I didn’t say it, Oliver understood. He would always look at me gently and say, “Chloe, I know the time isn’t right yet.” “I’m willing to wait.” “I will wait until the day you willingly accept me.” He brought me back this time, and we unexpectedly ran into Arthur at the villa entrance. I blurted it out, using him as a shield by calling him my boyfriend. Seeing Arthur so furious did give me a slight sense of satisfaction. But I also felt bad for using Oliver. I went back to grab some change of clothes for him, and picked up a couple of outfits for myself while I was at the villa. But as soon as I opened the door, something felt wrong. Someone was inside. Looking up, I met Arthur’s gaze from the sofa. “Finally decided to come back?” Arthur sneered, “That little boyfriend of yours isn’t hurt that badly. He’s not worth you looking so forlorn.” I froze in place. “None of your business.” I turned to go to my room, but Arthur grabbed my wrist and pinned me against the wall. “How far have you progressed with that man?” “Did you do it?” He stared at me coldly, his eyes like he was assessing prey. I suddenly laughed. “So what if we did? So what if we didn’t?” “Mr. Sterling, this isn’t something you should be worrying about.” “Didn’t you say it’s nice to maintain an open marriage like this?” I intentionally leaned close to his ear, smiling provocatively. “He… his body is much better than yours. He’s better than you in every way.” Arthur’s face instantly darkened. “Liar.” He suddenly went crazy, viciously pinning me into the corner. “Mrs. Sterling, we haven’t seen each other for six months, but your mouth is still as stubborn as ever.” “Are you acting this jealous because Mia sent you another message?” “After being lonely for six months, I think you must have missed me a lot.” He leaned in to kiss me. But I turned my face away, shoved him hard, and slapped him with a backhand. “Arthur, control your actions.” “Don’t act like a rabid dog in heat.” It was truly laughable. I was already disgusted by his touch because his body was dirty. Yet he thought I was acting out of jealousy. Arthur’s face was knocked to the side by the slap. He held his cheek, refusing to look up at me. Perhaps his male ego had taken a beating. He coldly scrutinized me for a long time. He dropped the line, “Chloe, you’ll regret this,” And stormed off. Soon, my phone started buzzing continuously. Without even looking, I knew it was provocative photos and messages from Mia. Arthur got mad and went looking for his little secretary again. Over the past six months, every time they hooked up… Mia would send messages to provoke me, like she was reporting back to me. I was sick of looking at them. I didn’t even open them; I just deleted them and drove to the hospital. When I arrived at the room, Oliver was already awake. He only smiled when he saw me. “Chloe, you’re finally back. I’ve been looking for you.” “Oliver,” I took a deep breath, “I’ve made up my mind. I accept your pursuit. I will be your girlfriend.” Oliver looked at me, surprised, seeming somewhat shocked. After a long time, his eyes filled with heartache again. “Chloe, I hope you’re not sad.” Oliver cupped my face, his eyes so gentle they seemed to sparkle. “It doesn’t matter to me if we have a title or not.” “As long as I can see you, I’m perfectly content.” I smiled and shook my head. “But this time, I want a divorce.” I didn’t want to waste any more time with Arthur. Before we remarried, I was the one pretending to be strong. I thought that as long as I held on long enough, Arthur would eventually change his mind. Even though Arthur had shown sincerity. Saying he would absolutely never bring Mia in front of me again. And that he would never have any ambiguous relationship with her again. But I knew that if the boy cried wolf too many times, no one would believe him. I didn’t believe that a man who loved sneaking around with his secretary… Could truly cut ties completely and become loyal. What’s more, the messages and ambiguous photos Mia had sent countless times over the past six months explained everything. Countless times, I felt a nausea like swallowing a dead fly stuck in my throat. As long as I stayed in this marriage… I would have to keep feeling that nausea. But now, I wanted to let Arthur go, and let myself go too. So, the day before Oliver was discharged… I proactively asked to meet Arthur at a coffee shop. He was at Disneyland with Mia. Upon receiving the message, he immediately ditched the little secretary to come meet me. But he put on a haughty act. “Mrs. Sterling, I knew you couldn’t keep up the act anymore.” He lifted his chin, revealing an expected smile. “Speak up. What are your terms this time?” “As long as you ask, I’ll give you a way out…” Looking at the faint lipstick mark still visible on the collar of his white dress shirt… “Arthur.” I said calmly, “Let’s get a divorce.”

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When I was four, I was finally found by my biological parents and brought to a hillside mansion that looked like a palace. It was my first time being escorted by bodyguards. The fake heiress, wearing an exquisite tutu dress and a hair clip worth thousands, walked up to me and asked, “Are you the daughter of Mrs. Davis, the cleaning lady?” She looked so innocent and pure. Based on the personality my adoptive parents had beaten into me, I should have been terrified and completely overwhelmed by the grand scene. But… sorry to disappoint. I’ve been reborn. 1 I opened my eyes. Outside the car window, the scenery blurred past. Aside from me, curled up tiny on the plush leather seat, there was only a bodyguard in a black suit and sunglasses in the driver’s seat. I stared blankly out the window. My eyes held no childlike innocence, only a hint of boredom. I couldn’t understand why a chance at rebirth was given to me, someone with absolutely zero desire to live. Let’s see… I tried to recall. In my past life, I think I committed… suicide? Yeah, I think so! The car sped along, following the exact trajectory of my past life, heading toward the place that had trapped me forever. The mansion oozed luxury from every corner; only those at the pinnacle of high society had the right to live here. Inside resided the happiest family of four: a father who was an immensely powerful CEO, a mother who was a beautiful and elegant socialite, a gentle and handsome brother who doted on his sister, and an innocent, obedient younger sister who was the apple of everyone’s eye. The family adored their youngest daughter so much that they couldn’t bear to send her to preschool until she was four. Ironically, it was during her admission health checkup that they discovered the shocking truth: the precious jewel they had loved with all their hearts for four years wasn’t biologically theirs! Their true biological daughter had been swapped at birth and had spent the last four years living in a backward, remote fishing village. Although it was hard to accept, the wealthy parents immediately brought their biological daughter back from the fishing village. What they couldn’t foresee was that later on, for the sake of the fake heiress, they would say to this returned daughter: “You are so vicious! I wish you had just died out there!” The brother, who was always warm and gentle to everything, would shield the fake heiress, glaring warily at his own biological sister, and warn her: “Learn to be forgiving.” The fiancé, arranged since childhood and whom she had barely met, would look at her with eyes full of disgust. From the moment she was found, everyone thought the fake heiress was better, more obedient, and more pitiful. The true heiress, who seemingly returned to a life of luxury, lived her entire life being compared, despised, and framed. Desperate for love, destroyed by it. I felt a warm, wet sensation on my cheeks. Tears. But I didn’t feel a shred of sadness. I tried to jumpstart my dull, numb brain. After a long moment, I could only curse this body for being so dramatic. I remembered a voice whispering in my ear right before I fell into darkness in my past life: “The protagonist’s halo cannot be fought…” Cannot be fought? If it can’t be fought, then why let me be reborn? Didn’t you get enough entertainment watching me act like a pathetic, trapped beast in my past life? Or did you think my past life wasn’t laughable enough? The car was completely silent. No one gave me an answer. 2 I was brought inside the mansion. Richard and Eleanor Sterling were already waiting on the sofa, with their nine-year-old son, Oliver, beside them. Perhaps they hadn’t anticipated it, but no one had changed me into clean clothes before bringing me here. I was still wearing the filthy, worn-out undergarments handed down from my adoptive parents’ older son. On my feet were a pair of dirty sandals with the soles peeling off. My dry, yellowish hair was matted into clumps. I didn’t miss the flash of surprise and complex emotion in their eyes. I didn’t know if they were disgusted by my clothes or by me. “Mommy~” From the spiral staircase, a girl wearing a tutu dress and sparkly hair clips in her slightly curled hair walked down step by step, closely followed by a nanny. Her dress was truly beautiful—bright colors with delicate embroidery of little bunnies and flowers. See! In an instant, she drew everyone’s attention. I have to admit, in my past life, I secretly envied Mia too. Even while I ridiculously tried to put on airs as the true heiress, I envied her. Her parents loved her, so much that they swapped me out to give her a better life. My parents loved her too; barely anyone knew she was fake until right before I died. My brother loved her and favored her constantly. Everyone who was supposed to be mine loved her… I was the only one who hated her. 3 My name is Chloe Sterling. Before my biological parents found me, my name was Chloe Fisher. Because I lived in a fishing village, they stuck “Fisher” in my name as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and I had no choice. Later, Richard Sterling changed my last name, giving me a name that meant “beautiful and intelligent.” I was so happy, like a dusty pearl finally wiped clean and plucked from the mud. Only later did I realize the meaning didn’t matter, only how it sounded. In their eyes, I was just an “extra”—superfluous no matter where I was. My lifelong nemesis was named Mia Sterling. The name meant “lotus rising from the water,” a beautiful wish and hope chosen by Richard and Eleanor together. Everything she had, before and even later, was originally mine. She was manipulative, but her disguises were clumsy, easily seen through with a single glance. Yet, I still couldn’t beat her. The ending was that I lost. I didn’t want to fight anymore. I was tired. I could no longer feel any joy from the tiny scraps of attention they occasionally threw my way. “Mia!” Eleanor instinctively stood up from the sofa and walked toward her. Then, remembering something, she stopped and cast a complex look at the nanny behind Mia. The nanny lowered her head awkwardly. Mia walked toward me. Like natural enemies, she noticed me immediately. Or maybe my attire was just too conspicuous among these wealthy people. I looked like a little beggar; even her nanny was dressed better than I was. She rubbed her slightly red eyes, as if she had just been crying, her tone somewhat innocent: “Who are you? Are you the daughter of Mrs. Davis, the cleaning lady?” The exact same words. Before Richard and the others could react, the people in the room watched us like an audience at a play. What did I do in my past life? Oh. In my past life, I was so terrified I plopped right down on the floor. Amidst my panic, I couldn’t help but think how soft the floor was. It was covered in a beautiful rug, softer than the sand after high tide. First impressions are crucial. Mia had a massive, inherent advantage. From our very first meeting in my past life, I lost spectacularly. She was pale, chubby, and adorable, while I was sallow, emaciated, petty, and annoying. Tears fell from my eyes, plop, plop. My voice was tiny and timid: “Did my mommy sell me here? She said if I wasn’t a good girl, she would sell me. “Chloe is a good girl.” I suppressed my sobs, trying my best to show the audience the image of a pitiful little girl who was scared but trying hard to be brave. Mia loved using this trick. It instantly aroused everyone’s sympathy, as if she were the most pitiful person in the whole world. I despised it in my past life, but now, I found it quite fun. She was never smart to begin with, and her tricks weren’t clever. Relying on that so-called “protagonist’s halo,” she received endless, mindless favoritism, causing me to suffer untold grievances. Now, I wanted her to taste that feeling for herself. Fighting fire with fire, isn’t that right? From the sofa, I heard Eleanor’s heartbroken sobs. I thought with self-loathing: Is she really that sad? Could she guess that one day she would become one of the straws that broke my back? Forcing me to watch as my belongings were slowly taken over by Mia. I looked at Mia in front of me; her focus seemed entirely on me. A hint of a smile flashed across her lips. My pitiful state gave her pleasure. Like a princess, she looked down at me, skinnier and smaller than her, and said condescendingly, “You’re so pitiful. I’ll talk to my mommy later, and you can be my little maid from now on.” I laughed inwardly at her clownish behavior, waiting for the real decision-maker to arrive. 4 “Nonsense!” A woman in her forties, looking regal and elegant, walked in through the doorway. An assistant carrying a briefcase stood beside her. The moment she spoke, the grand hall fell silent. Even my mother stopped sobbing. “Grandma~” With a sweet voice, Mia lifted her skirt and trotted over. It was obvious she was highly favored by her grandmother. But to her dismay, the elder she adored walked right past her and crouched down in front of the girl she considered a little beggar. Grandma stroked my dry, yellowish hair, her smile incredibly kind: “What’s your name?” I dropped my previous act, my gaze very calm. “My name is Chloe Fisher.” I pointed at Mia, who was standing a few steps ahead of me: “Did you bring me here to be her little maid?” I suddenly started crying as if I had suffered a massive grievance: “Can I refuse? I don’t want to be someone’s little maid.” “The money my mommy got for selling me… I’ll pay you back double when I grow up.” I choked back a sob. In my past life, she was the only person not bewitched by Mia’s protagonist halo. She was also the one who paid attention to my growth, saw my progress, and praised me. Of course! I wasn’t narcissistic enough to believe I could defeat Mia’s protagonist halo. It was just that Grandma prioritized family bloodlines and interests above all else. She would spoil you because you had Sterling blood, and she would abandon you if you didn’t. To firmly grasp this singular source of attention, I desperately tried to grow into the person she wanted me to be. Even so, I still couldn’t match the weight Mia held in everyone’s hearts, and I still fell into Mia’s clumsily constructed traps. I think, in the end, she must have been disappointed too… “Good child. Of course, Grandma wouldn’t let you be a little maid. Do you know? You are Grandma’s biological granddaughter. You are the little princess of our Sterling family!” she declared solemnly. She was saying this for me, but also for everyone else in the living room to hear. “Grandma! Waaah~ I am your granddaughter!” Mia ran over and threw her arms around her. The assistant instinctively pulled her away, and she struggled, crying even more hysterically. Eleanor covered her mouth, crying as if her heart was broken. Grandma stood up, took my hand, and led me to the sofa: “Chloe is a child of our Sterling family. The paternity test results show a 99% probability of biological relationship.” The assistant let go of Mia and took the paternity test report out of the briefcase. Mia seized the opportunity to run to Eleanor’s side, and Eleanor hugged her, crying sorrowfully. I felt absolutely nothing inside. In my past life, scenes like this played out frequently in the house. The result was always complaints directed at me, telling me to accommodate her, asking why I couldn’t be more generous since Mia was so pitiful. Actually, they were just resenting me for being the biological daughter, getting in the way of the deep mother-daughter bond between Eleanor and Mia. “Our Sterling family bloodline has been wandering outside for four years. The incident of the babies being swapped back then looks suspicious to me. If it was a mistake, we can’t pursue it. But if it was intentional, our family won’t be made fools of.” She glanced at Mia, who was shrinking back. “Furthermore, Chloe has suffered so much out there in Mia’s place. I don’t care about scandals. Pick a good date, announce this to the public, and let Chloe regain her rightful identity as soon as possible. “Richard, you are the father. You make the decision.” The man sitting on the sofa, who had been silent the whole time, nodded, his stern expression unwavering. He glanced at his wife: “I agree. I’ll have someone handle it in the next few days. During this time, let little… Chloe rest and recover at home. “As for Mia…” Grandma cut him off: “Even though our Sterling family can easily afford to raise another child, the situation between Chloe and Mia is awkward. Mia has also occupied Chloe’s place for so many years, enjoying everything that was meant for her. It’s best if she returns to where she belongs.” “Whether that Fisher couple did something despicable back then is still unclear. But regardless of what they did, the child is innocent. Our Sterling family isn’t heartless. We can provide Mia with some financial assistance, enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life.” She turned to look at me, her decision swift and resolute: “While the children are still young, it’s better to get things back on track early.” Mia, nestled in Eleanor’s arms, half-understood, but she knew they were going to send her away. She cried and screamed, begging her parents not to abandon her, not to send her away, promising she would be a good girl and eat all her food from now on. Oliver stood by her side, gently patting her back to comfort her. I stared at the filthy sandals on my feet, feeling absolutely no anticipation. I already knew the ending to this farce. Eleanor couldn’t bear Mia’s heart-wrenching cries and desperate attempts to please her. Richard was a deeply devoted husband, naturally inclined to accommodate his wife’s wishes. In the end, Mia stayed in the house. It wasn’t even difficult; we lived together under the guise of being fraternal twins. In status, one was the eldest daughter of the Sterling family, and the other was the second daughter. Eleanor looked at me guiltily, then looked down reluctantly at Mia in her arms. “Mom, how about… we keep Mia? She’s the daughter I painstakingly raised for four years. “These four years represent over a thousand days of mother-daughter bonding. I didn’t know Mia… wasn’t my daughter. I always believed she was mine. I gave her the very best… “This mistake shows that Mia and our family have a destiny together. It’s not like our family can’t afford to raise one more child. “Chloe… she needs time to adjust too. Wouldn’t it be better for her to have Mia as a companion?” I blinked, wanting to sneer. She’s the daughter you painstakingly raised for four years. But me, your biological daughter? Not only did I not receive your meticulous care, I suffered for four years in someone else’s place. And in the end, I’m expected to understand your ‘painstaking effort’ and generously accept you continuing to raise the thief who stole my life? Where in the world do you find such a good deal? I tugged at the hem of Grandma’s skirt beside me. She looked down at me, before she could reply to Eleanor. “I’m hot,” I said. Everyone looked at me. It was August or September, the weather was scorching. The mansion had central air conditioning set to a comfortable temperature, but I was wearing a tattered, fleece-lined inner shirt suitable for late autumn, with sleeves that were a section too long. It was safe to say that after Mia’s biological parents swapped us, they never bought me a single piece of clothing. Everything I wore were hand-me-downs from their relatives’ kids—regardless of size or gender, as long as it kept me from being naked. Hearing that I was hot, the assistant asked if he should take me to change into something else. Grandma nodded, but unexpectedly, I resisted violently. She was confused, but since there were more pressing matters at hand, she told the assistant to just roll up my sleeves a bit to help me cool off. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, the assistant rolled the sleeve up to my forearm, revealing bruises of all sizes. I don’t know who gasped. Eleanor pushed Mia away and rushed over to me, but Grandma was already in front of her, gripping my arm and interrogating me. “How did this happen? Chloe, tell Grandma, who did this?” Eleanor stood to the side, covering her mouth and crying, wanting to get closer but having no chance. 5 The Fisher couple loved abusing children. Their dissatisfaction with life made it a habit to vent their frustrations on their daughter. Sons were treasures; daughters were weeds. Especially a daughter who wasn’t even biologically theirs. They believed the baby swap would never be discovered, so they acted with impunity. “If you dare tell anyone, I’ll beat you to death.” The warning after every punishment was deeply etched into a four-year-old child’s heart. Even after being brought back by her biological parents, she didn’t dare complain. Only the maid who took care of her knew, and a snobbish maid wouldn’t cause trouble for an unfavored child. Marks on the body eventually fade. When I grew up, I regretted keeping the abuse I suffered at the Fishers’ a secret. Maybe it was fear, or maybe a tiny bit of foolish pride. At four years old, I only knew that being beaten was bad; it meant I must have done something wrong. I didn’t want my parents to see the “bad” parts of me. But now that I’ve been reborn, I refuse to suffer that grievance again. It’s time for revenge. What does a four-year-old child need pride for?! I’m not going to be the silent victim this time! I stared at those bruises: “When Chloe is bad, Mommy and Daddy punish Chloe.” A folder slammed heavily onto the marble coffee table. Richard stood up, his face flushed with anger. Mia was terrified by my injuries and burst into tears. Grandma glanced over, her brow furrowing with absolute fury: “This is a slap in the face to our Sterling family! We treated their child like a treasure, and this is how they treat Chloe, a child so young! “That settles it. I don’t want to hear another word. Send Mia back!” Send Mia back?! The pain on my body was something I had long since learned to tolerate, but the slight deviation from the plot of my past life actually made me feel a bit of satisfaction. I just wondered if Mia’s protagonist halo could still keep her here in the end. The servants moved quickly. Mia’s room was cleared out in no time. It was the second-best bedroom in the mansion, right across from Oliver’s. I pouted. Playing the pitiful victim really did work. I never got to live in that room in my past life~ Two months passed. I gained some weight, my skin became lighter and softer, and my facial features gradually emerged, inheriting the best traits of Richard and Eleanor. This was one thing I always had over Mia. But my past life taught me that beauty doesn’t guarantee favoritism. A few days after I was brought back, Grandma resolutely sent Mia back to the Fishers. Even though Eleanor hesitated, the abuse crossed Richard and Grandma’s absolute bottom line, rendering her halo ineffective. They also set about uncovering the truth of what happened years ago and sued the Fisher couple for child abuse. But I knew Mia’s departure was only temporary. Sooner or later, she would return… 6 During these two months, Eleanor treated me impeccably. After all, I was the flesh and blood she carried for ten months. She wanted to overcompensate and build a bond with me. I just went along with it, comfortably accepting everything. Even though she would sometimes accidentally call me Mia, and in quiet moments, I could see her missing the child she had raised for four years. It didn’t matter. After being reborn, I felt like a spectator watching a story unfold. I couldn’t feel the highs and lows, the joys and sorrows, too deeply. My brother, who was five years older than me, was somewhat distant. Even though he was smarter than other kids and knew how to be polite and courteous, he still couldn’t hide his emotions completely like an adult. When Eleanor brought me to him, hoping to foster a sibling bond, he would find a reasonable excuse to decline, leaving Eleanor with nothing to say. He didn’t put up a hypocritical front for me. He probably thought I was too young to understand. The resentment in his eyes made me feel like I was a bandit who had torn apart his happy family of four, the little beggar who had driven away his sister. Fine! In a way, I was. But I found pleasure in that thought. In mid-November of that year, the family threw me my very first birthday party. It was exceptionally grand, as if to make up for the birthdays I missed in previous years. It was also an occasion to publicly announce my identity. Held in Richard’s arms, I calmly accepted the blessings of various important figures. They wished me joy every year, a smooth path ahead, and a life free of worry. They praised me for being adorable and inheriting my parents’ best features. For those few short hours, I truly felt like a princess held in the palm of their hands. But… being a princess has an expiration date. I was a Cinderella whose halo would fade when the clock struck. Richard had to stay at the venue to socialize, while Eleanor suggested taking me and Oliver home early. Her eagerness gave me a hunch. It was 10:30 PM when the car arrived at the mansion. In the foyer, Eleanor let go of the hand she had been holding and hurried toward the living room. Oliver, following behind us, also dropped his usual composure. “Mia!” Mia was sitting on the sofa, wearing a white dress. She looked much more sensible. She cried timidly in Eleanor’s arms, saying how much she missed Mommy, Daddy, and her brother. “Mia, welcome home!” Hearing the joy in my brother’s voice—the brother who didn’t like me—I walked alone from the foyer to my room. Good kids go to bed early and wake up early. The next morning, Mia was already sitting obediently at the dining table. It seemed the two months of hunger at the Fishers’ had cured her of being a picky, spoiled brat. When Eleanor saw me come down, she gently picked me up and placed me on a dining chair, softly asking if I slept well last night. Oliver’s attitude had also improved; he moved the milk I couldn’t reach closer to me. Mia, sitting next to him, looked at me timidly, not a trace of her former arrogance visible. “Chloe, Mommy wants to discuss something with you. Your sister’s biological parents made a mistake and were taken to prison by the police. She has no one to take care of her and nowhere to live. Can we let her live with us?” I took a sip of the milk. I could never get used to the taste; it was too gamey to swallow. I listened quietly as Eleanor explained how pitiful Mia was. Richard had gone to the company early, and Grandma lived at the main estate. The three people at the table were eagerly waiting for my stance. I glanced at Mia’s exposed, fair arms and lowered my eyelashes: “Isn’t this something Daddy and Mommy decide?” I want to say no. I want to throw her out. I want her to be despised and looked down upon. I want her to be beaten black and blue like I was. I want her to suffer what I suffered. Would you grant my wish? Eleanor stroked my head and smiled with relief: “Chloe is so understanding. We’ll be a family of five from now on.” The Fisher couple was sent to prison by the Sterling family, and Mia was removed from the Sterling family registry. She would have no inheritance rights in the future. Grandma turned a blind eye, and Mia—no, Mia Fisher!—finally stayed as the adopted daughter of the Sterling family. I had to marvel at the power of the protagonist’s halo. I seemed to have changed a lot, yet it felt like nothing had changed at all. 7 Eleanor loved the illusion of sibling harmony and always tried to group her three children together, but I clearly couldn’t blend in. At first, Mia was well-behaved. Her biological instincts made her wary of me, so she could only subtly emphasize her presence in the house. But I still couldn’t stand her “green tea” (manipulative and innocent-acting) posturing. When acting spoiled with Eleanor, she would always sneak a glance at me, as if showing off a possession. She would chatter endlessly, deliberately mentioning where the family had traveled or what gifts her parents had given her before I came back. She was even worse with Oliver: “Brother~ Why are you only holding my hand? Sister is right here too. “Brother, you are the best brother in Mia’s heart! We’ll be siblings for life.” Listening to her made me want to throw up. I couldn’t be bothered dealing with Mia’s weak, manipulative attacks. Instead, I picked one of her many personas from my past life—the sickly, fragile “Lin Daiyu” type—and started acting it out. Medical exams obviously wouldn’t find anything wrong with me, but after suffering four years of abuse since birth, wasn’t it perfectly normal for me to be a bit frail? The constant, suffocating care followed. Grandma came from the main estate and scolded Richard and Eleanor. It scared Mia so much she hid in her room like a frightened quail, not daring to come out. After all, she had heard with her own ears when Grandma ordered her out of the house. Despite her age, Mia was already quite scheming. If nothing else, at least I didn’t have to constantly sit between them, watching Mia’s amateur manipulation and Oliver’s brainless devotion. This persona was incredibly effective. In my past life, whenever Mia wanted something or was unhappy, she would just lie in bed for a few days, and someone would eagerly deliver it to her. But this time, the one waiting for things to be delivered was me…

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The fifth year after my son’s birth, the stark truth finally hit me: my wife didn’t love me or our boy. To escape that miserable marriage, I decided to take our son and leave. Fate, however, had other plans. A car crash. I lost a kidney, and my son, an eye. In my despair, my usually aloof wife knelt before me, publicly begging for forgiveness, promising to be our rock for life. My son and I decided to give her a hundred-day trial. If she passed, we’d stay forever. But on the ninety-ninth day… My son and I stumbled upon my wife talking to the lead doctor. “Ms. Cliff, was it really worth it, deliberately causing that accident to save Mr. Vance’s child, and then taking organs from your husband and young master?” “It was worth it. As long as Steve is happy, I’d do anything.” “What if your husband and young master find out?” Ms. Cliff fell silent, her hand instinctively going to her wedding ring. Her voice, when it came, was chillingly calm. “Then they must never know. All they want is a home, don’t they? I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to them.” So, her supposed change of heart was just a meticulously crafted deception. The happiness my son and I thought we had found was a dream she’d spun to protect the one she truly cherished. Every gift, it turned out, came with a hidden price. 1 The office hummed with a sterile quiet as Clara Cliff meticulously reviewed the report the doctor handed her. A heavy weight lifted from her chest. “Sterling’s eye works wonderfully. Knowing Vance can be discharged now, I feel much better.” The doctor bristled, unable to hold back a reminder. “Ms. Cliff! Mr. Vance, as good a friend as he may be, is not your husband. You privately took an organ from your own son for him. If that were discovered, this entire hospital would be shut down. Is this truly worth it?” Clara’s gaze hardened. She slapped the report down on the desk. “Enough. It’s not your place to dictate what I do. Steve only has Sterling. How could I bear to just watch? It’s just an eye, after all. It doesn’t affect his life.” The doctor, enraged, challenged her directly. “Ms. Cliff, can you guarantee your husband and son will never know the truth? What will you do if they find out you almost killed them for Mr. Vance?” Clara fell silent. She pulled out her phone and gazed at the happy family photo on her wallpaper, her eyes clouded with an unreadable emotion. “They won’t know. I’ve hidden it well. And…” She extinguished the screen, her voice filled with a chilling certainty. “Julian and Caleb, they love me very much.” My hand, clutching my son’s, tightened. A bone-deep chill ran through me, shaking me uncontrollably. I still remember that day, my six-year-old son lying in the ICU bed, asking me with a blank stare, “Daddy, where’s my left eye? Why is it gone?” That day, I cried until my voice was hoarse, until my body convulsed, even wishing I could just die. I hated myself for taking my son away. Hated myself for not protecting him. Hated myself for being an unfit father. But it turned out, the one I should hate most was Clara Cliff. My son, too, clamped his hand over his mouth, unable to believe that the person who’d cost him his eye was his own mother. Clara closed the report, her voice bright with anticipation. “Since Steve and his boy are recovering well, they should be back soon. Arrange it. And remember, never let Julian find out.” Footsteps approached. My son and I scrambled to hide. But it was too late. Clara had seen us. “Julian? Caleb? What are you doing here?” 2 Clara’s voice was a frantic whisper, her breath catching in her throat with tension. My son and I exchanged a look, silently wiping away our tears. I took a deep breath, then turned, calm on the surface. “We came looking for you, figuring you’d been taking forever with that report. We got a bit lost, almost went the wrong way.” A sigh of relief escaped her, a smile almost touching her lips before my next words froze her. “What’s that in your hand? Is it my son’s and my medical report?” I stepped closer, reaching out to take it, my eyes fixed on her face. Clara’s gaze flickered, and she tucked the report behind her back. “We…we can look at it at home. No rush.” Watching her lips, now pale with anxiety, a flicker of sarcasm crossed my eyes. I withdrew my hand and, taking Caleb, turned to leave. Clara paused, then hurried to catch up, scooping Caleb into her arms. Just like she had for the past ninety-nine days, with tender affection. But Caleb didn’t wrap his arms around her neck as he usually did. His body was stiff, his eyes distant. Clara, oblivious, held him until we were in the car. It was only when she was checking his car seat that she spoke, seemingly casually. “Honey, do you remember Steve Vance? His boy was sick before, right? He’s all better now and preparing to come back to the country. He doesn’t have much family here. I was thinking, maybe he and his son could stay with us for a few days?” She watched my expression, adding, “Of course, it was just a thought. If you or Caleb object, then we won’t.” “I don’t mind. Bring them home.” Clara paused, then a smile quickly spread across her face. “Thank you, darling. You’re so kind. It’s my blessing to be married to you.” I didn’t smile. I just climbed into the back seat, pulling Caleb into my embrace. A tear flashed in my eye, unseen. Back home, Clara immediately found an excuse to leave. I knew she was rushing to arrange Steve Vance’s return. I used the opportunity to talk with Caleb. I wanted to take him away, as far from this sickening home as possible, never to see Clara again. Caleb didn’t object. He just silently tore up the diary on his desk. It chronicled every day since the accident, of Clara with us. Day 1 of the accident, my eye was gone. I asked Daddy where it fell, but Daddy just cried and didn’t say anything. Mommy cried too. She hugged me for the first time and said she would be my eyes from now on. Day 3 of the accident, Mommy came to take care of Daddy and me every day. She said she loved Daddy and me very, very much, and wanted to be our support for the rest of our lives. I told her I loved her very, very much too. Mommy cried again. Day 21 of the accident, I was discharged. Ethan found out my secret and all the kids at kindergarten started calling me ‘one-eyed freak.’ They said I was disgusting and wouldn’t play with me anymore. I cried in the storage room for a long time. But it’s okay, Daddy and Mommy love me very much. Day 25 of the accident, Dr. Sterling gave me a toy eye. Mommy said no one would make fun of me anymore. I showed the eye to Ethan and told him I wasn’t disgusting. But Ethan poked my eye with a pencil and said I was a monster, that my eye couldn’t hurt. … Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I hugged Caleb close, my heart breaking, and sobbed. “Caleb, Daddy will take you away, okay?” My son touched his cold, prosthetic eye, his eyes red, and nodded. “Okay.” 3 I set my phone to a twenty-four-hour countdown. Time to pack. Every moment we stayed was another wound to my son. Countdown: twenty-one hours. I took Caleb to kindergarten to complete the withdrawal process. At the principal’s office, I was about to knock when I heard a familiar voice from inside. “Is…is Sterling doing okay? Does his eye still bother him?” Steve Vance chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “The doctor said Sterling is recovering beautifully, and the eye feels very comfortable. Clara, I really owe you so much.” Clara curved her lips, her smile genuine. “As long as you’re happy, I’d do anything.” Steve glanced at her, then said meaningfully, “What about your husband? If he knew Sterling was using Caleb’s eye, wouldn’t he be upset? Clara, I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” His familiar tone made me want to vomit. Steve Vance had always been like this—taking all the benefits yet pretending to be utterly innocent, making people fall over themselves to please him. Five years ago, on my son’s first birthday, Steve, whose birthday wasn’t even that day, deliberately posted about celebrating alone on social media to steal Clara’s attention. She abandoned my son and me at the birthday party, running off to spend the entire night with him. Before she left, I begged her to wait, at least to finish the party with our son. But she, worried about Steve’s loneliness, simply handed Caleb to a waiter and told me not to cause a scene. My eyes welled up. I was about to leave when the tardy principal walked past me and pushed the door open. Seeing my son and me, a flicker of panic crossed Clara’s eyes. “When did you arrive? Why didn’t you knock?” Noticing my gaze on Steve Vance, she quickly explained. “Darling, don’t misunderstand. I only just found out Steve had already brought Sterling back. We just ran into each other, and I was just helping them register for kindergarten, you…” “I understand.” I cut her off, turning with my son. Steve Vance, however, called out to me with a confident, sunny smile. “Julian, long time no see.” He pulled the little boy next to him forward and introduced him to my son. “Caleb, this is your older brother, Sterling. Say hello. You two have a special connection.” The boy leaned in, staring curiously at my son’s eye. Then, with a look of distaste, he said, “Daddy, his eye is fake. It’s disgusting.” Caleb’s face instantly paled, and he shrank behind me, ashamed. My whole body trembled with fury. But Clara, perfectly timed, stepped in front of Steve Vance and said awkwardly, “Darling, don’t be angry. Sterling didn’t mean it. He’s just a child, he doesn’t understand anything. We adults don’t need to argue with a child, do we?” Her words were entirely in defense of Steve Vance’s son. Caleb stared at her blankly, disbelief in his eyes. Just yesterday, Clara had flown into a rage over a single mocking word directed at our son. Now, she was brazenly protecting the person who had mocked him. It seemed that with a different person, her attitude changed completely. At that thought, the light in my son’s eyes dimmed. I had no more patience. I took Caleb’s hand and left. Clara was left staring frantically at our retreating backs until Steve Vance called her name four or five times before she reluctantly came back to herself. Countdown: nineteen hours.

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So, I got divorced. Three years ago, my shallow, looks-obsessed self agreed to a business marriage, all for the sake of Alexander Croft’s face. We signed a contract, a three-year deal. The bastard signed the papers and then vanished. I’d see him maybe once a year. He wouldn’t answer my calls, wouldn’t return my texts. I couldn’t even touch his hand. It was like being a widow while he was still alive. Even the hottest fire would turn to ice. So, the second our time was up, I couldn’t wait to shove the divorce papers in his face. But you know what he did? He just stared at me for a long moment and said, “You’re right, but the speed of light is 299,792 kilometers per second, a single chip can have billions of transistors, and humans evolved from apes, which is why sharks can’t ride horses.” “…The what?” “So, after we’re divorced… can I ask you out?” “…?” 1. Today was the day. I was divorcing Alexander Croft. To celebrate this glorious occasion, I dragged myself out of bed at the crack of nine, wriggled to the edge of the mattress like a worm, and slithered off the bed. I crawled my way to the bathroom in the shadows to brush my teeth and give my face a quick power-wash, then slid down the banister with a triumphant whoosh. A perfect landing. Ten out of ten! My parents and I never saw eye to eye on anything, from the proper way to descend a staircase to what I should major in at college. They provided for me, but they never understood me. Alexander was the same. In three years of marriage, he’d avoided me like I was radioactive. No hand-holding, no arm around my waist. We were in a state of perpetual cold war, twenty-five hours a day. I usually just called him “that ghost.” Because he’d left me to be a living widow for three years. Though, to his credit, he’d provided me with a gorgeous villa and a wonderfully attentive housekeeper, Mrs. Gable. She knew my morning routine and always had breakfast waiting on the table: a spread of fresh pastries, bagels, a fruit parfait, and half a corn on the cob. I grabbed the corn and took a bite. Yep, perfect temperature. My favorite kind, sweet and crunchy. A shame I wouldn’t be eating her cooking anymore. She was Alexander’s employee, after all. He’d barely set foot in this villa in three years. We’d only seen each other a grand total of three times: our wedding, his grandfather’s birthday gala, and once when I ran into him on a business trip while I was on vacation. I married him for his looks, even forcing myself to act like some prim and proper debutante for weeks before the wedding, only to see him less than once a year. And the man had the audacity to be a stickler for the rules, adding a “no-cheating” clause to our contract. While all my single friends were out flirting with cute guys, I was stuck at home, cuddling my hamster. My mistake. I never should have let a pretty face sway me. Still, the villa was huge. I could sleep in the master bedroom, on the living room couch, or on the ceiling if I wanted. And he was never stingy with the allowance for me and my hamster. Over three years, we both got a little rounder. Especially the hamster. He went from a furry pancake to a furry little sphere. Munching on my corn, I fed my hamster a tiny piece of a scone from a delicate porcelain dish. I left the rest of the food for Mrs. Gable, plucked a decorative flower from the breakfast arrangement, and tucked it behind my ear. Damn, I’m gorgeous, I thought with a sigh. I checked the time. Still early. I pulled out my phone and called my best friend. “Nina, you hitting the club tonight? Count me in.” Her voice was a mix of surprise and pure joy. “For real, Sylvie? Are you finally free?!” “You bet!” I said, striking a proud pose with a hand on my hip. “I’m a free woman!” “The three-year sentence is up! All hail the returning queen!” I could hear a sound like happy seal-clapping from the other end. “Just you wait. I know a few new models… six-foot-two, abs for days. I’ll book ’em for you right now!” “Heh, you know me so well…” The thought of being surrounded by handsome men, free to touch and admire, sent a wave of pure bliss through me. I started doing a happy little wiggle dance right there on the floor. But then, Nina’s voice turned serious. “But! No more making the models do your calculus homework for you!” What? Who, me? I would never. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “And yes, you would.” “…” Fine. I just like seeing handsome guys look all helpless and confused! 2. After the call, I grabbed the divorce papers I’d prepared long ago and had the driver take me to the ghost’s corporate headquarters. His assistant, Mr. Davis, heard I was coming and quickly escorted me to a meeting room to wait. But the place was a total bore. The sunflower seeds and bottled water they offered weren’t up to my hamster’s standards. I restlessly paced around, flattening myself against the wall a few times before deciding to go check on the employees. My family’s company has business with the Croft Corporation, so it was perfectly reasonable for me to be inspecting the workforce. It was almost lunchtime, and that half-cob of corn was a distant memory. My stomach was growling, so I grabbed a bowl of sunflower seeds and strolled into the main office area, cracking them as I went. The employees were all working diligently. I was pleased. The ghost might be a ghost, but he had a good eye for talent. No wonder my dad had pushed for me to marry him instead of some other CEO’s son from the Williams or Peterson families. But for such a huge office, where were the trash cans? What was I supposed to do with all these shells… Just as I was pondering this, a sharp, confident-looking young woman came striding toward me, her heels clicking decisively on the polished floor. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. Based on that rhythmic clicking, I’d bet a sunflower seed she’d studied percussion. She stopped right in front of me, looking annoyed. “This is work hours, and you’re just standing here eating sunflower seeds?” “Hm?” I tilted my head, thinking. Oh. She had a point. I shouldn’t be standing. So I sat down on the floor. I’m a guest, after all. A guest shouldn’t have to stand while eating sunflower seeds! Sitting is the proper etiquette! The woman froze, completely thrown off. For a moment, she was speechless. “You… you…” She finally sputtered, “What department are you in? Slacking off and wandering around during work hours!” Ah, she thought I was an employee. That explained it. She’d probably die of embarrassment if she knew who I was. Being the considerate person I am, I decided not to call her out directly. I just gave her a little hint. “What department are you a manager in? How can you not even recognize your own staff?” Get a clue, pretty lady. I’m just passing through! But my hint landed like a challenge. She stomped her foot, her voice tight with anger. “You’re the one Grandpa sent, aren’t you?! I knew they wouldn’t let me have a peaceful internship! It’s only been a few days, and you’re already here to make trouble for me!” “…” Whoa. All I did was a basic attack, and she used her ultimate ability. But her outburst jogged my memory. This naive firecracker was Alexander’s younger sister. I’d seen her at his grandfather’s birthday gala, but I’d forgotten her name. Back then, she was dressed to the nines, every smile and gesture radiating the innocent vivacity of a young girl raised in a bubble. A sheltered little princess. She was actually kind of cute. Just then, Mr. Davis rushed over. He looked at me sitting on the floor, then at his boss’s fuming sister, and was completely at a loss. With my ten years of novel-reading experience, I could tell he was already scripting a tragic romance in his head: I love him, he doesn’t love me, and his cruel sister is bullying me. Too bad. I’m just a certified nutcase. Alexander and I were never in love, and I sat on the floor all by myself. “Is Alexander free?” I asked the assistant. “Yes, the President just finished his meeting,” Davis replied. “Ma’am, are you…?” “Oh, just taking a seat.” I cracked another seed. “This floor is so clean. Am I not allowed to sit on it?” “…You are. Please, make yourself comfortable.” Davis was clearly a man of culture. I approved. But right now, the divorce was my top priority. Since the ghost was available, I didn’t want to waste any more time. 3. I handed Davis a napkin, placed my hamster and the pile of seed shells onto it, and then snatched up my divorce papers, happily skipping back to the meeting room. I left the assistant and the Croft princess staring at each other. The princess looked bewildered. “Mr. Davis, who is she?” Davis hesitated for a moment before replying, “A legend.” My hamster wriggled in his hand. He forced a tight smile, looking utterly confused. “Why did she give me the hamster? And why on a napkin?” “Because he poops,” I called out, poking my head back out of the room. “…” “If he does, just swap out the napkin. In the meantime, you can pet him all you want.” With that, I ducked back into the room, meeting Alexander’s complicated gaze. I had to admit, the man was distractingly handsome. But the moment I remembered he wouldn’t let me touch him—or anyone else—my heart grew colder than a fishmonger’s blade. I slapped the divorce papers down on the table. Alexander ignored them. “You said someone poops?” “Don’t you?” I retorted. “…” You know, the person who first questioned whether humans poop was a true genius. And I, for one, am a genius. Hehe. As I stood there with my hands on my hips, looking smug, Alexander’s expression soured, like he’d just eaten a chocolate bar filled with bitter melon. The bizarre look seriously detracted from his otherwise top-tier attractiveness. “…” Okay, maybe not hehe. But I was used to it. At least sixty percent of people I talk to end up with that same expression. So just sign the papers, ghost. We’re not on the same wavelength. We’ll never be happy! Under my expectant gaze, Alexander finally looked down at the papers. He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Do we really have to get divorced?” “Even though it makes no difference whether we’re married or not,” I answered without a second thought, “for the sake of getting my hands on some handsome men, yes, we absolutely must.” “…” He looked up at me. “You’re right, but the speed of light is 299,792 kilometers per second, a single chip can have billions of transistors, and humans evolved from apes, which is why sharks can’t use smartphones.” My brain short-circuited. I had no idea what he was talking about. “What?” “So, after we’re divorced… can I ask you out?” “…” Hold on, buddy. We never met before the wedding, you wouldn’t let me touch you after, and now that we’re divorcing, you’re asking if you can date me? Have you lost your mind? And I said as much. To which Alexander replied, “Can’t I?” His question was so matter-of-fact. My silence was deafening. I couldn’t imagine that someone who looked at me like he’d just swallowed a weird concoction could ever occupy the same padded cell as me. And I was done being swayed by his face. Three years of widowhood had turned my heart into a block of ancient ice. I needed a new, fiery-hot pretty boy to thaw it out. Under my dead-eyed stare, Alexander silently signed the divorce papers. When he was done, he said again, “I was wrong to ignore you before. I hope you’ll give me a chance to pursue you.” “No,” I refused, righteously. “That would interfere with my quality time with male models.” And just like that, the silence buff was passed back to Alexander. “Male models?” “Yes. Male models.” Thinking about the pictures Nina had sent me—all those gorgeous men with perfect faces and sculpted bodies—I let out a creepy, delighted cackle. When I went back to retrieve my hamster, I found Mr. Davis frozen like a statue. The second he saw me, he quickly shut off his phone screen and resumed his petrified state. I took the hamster from his hand and gave him a little poke. What was wrong with this guy? My hamster hadn’t turned into Medusa, had he?

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When Liam accompanied me to set off fireworks at sea to celebrate my birthday, a phone call lured him away. He never returned that night. In the quiet, empty expanse of the night, my loneliness didn’t last long. Mia, a female artist under his agency, posted an explosive social media update. It was a photo of a man and a woman’s hands intertwined on a bed. The caption read: “Saw the most beautiful white fireworks tonight. Thank you to my boss.” I knew then that I never wanted to see fireworks again. The love story between Liam and me was finally reaching its end. 1. “Ms. Hastings, this is the fake death service plan we’ve customized for you. It includes practical scheduling and arrangements based on your proposed boat explosion scenario. Please review it and let us know if you’re satisfied.” I took the proposal, skimmed it, and signed my name with a flourish. Seeing my decisiveness, the staff member couldn’t hide his surprise: “Honestly, many people still hesitate a bit at this stage. There are a lot of factors to consider. You are truly bold.” “Especially the scenario you requested… that’s an incredibly expensive, luxury yacht.” “And because of the fame you and Mr. Sterling share, the coast where that yacht is moored has become a highly popular landmark for couples on dates and singles seeking romance.” “Are you sure you won’t regret blowing it up just like that?” I lowered my eyes, my expression darkening. Regret it? Maybe a little. That yacht was Liam’s eighteenth birthday gift to me, worth nearly forty million dollars. And Liam was only eighteen himself at the time. At such a young age, such a grand gesture immediately dominated the entertainment news headlines, causing a sensation across the city. I was both shocked and playfully scolding him: “How could you be so impulsive, spending so much money all at once…” Liam pressed his fingertips against my lips, then smoothed out my slightly furrowed brow: “Don’t mention money. No amount of gold can buy my happiness. You should give our boat a name.” Since his public declaration of love had shaken the whole city, my answer slipped out naturally: “Love of a Lifetime.” On that night, with the moon bright and the wind gentle, Liam and I sailed out to sea on the Love of a Lifetime to celebrate my coming of age. Brilliant fireworks bloomed against the night sky, loud and fiery. I hugged him tightly, my left ear pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat, which was more vigorous and passionate than the fireworks. In our youth, we stood at the bow of the ship. Mimicking the characters from the movie Titanic, we shouted: “I am the king of the world!” “I am the queen of the world!” “You jump!” “I jump!” That night, we lingered in each other’s arms on the boat until the horizon began to glow with the hazy light of dawn. I felt myself completely melt, becoming the dancing waves beneath him. Liam and I were childhood sweethearts, inseparable since we were kids, naturally falling into a teenage romance. But I still felt that the night on the yacht when we turned eighteen was the true beginning of our love. Because that was the first time we connected physically as adults, and we solemnly promised to love each other for a lifetime. So, what that ship carried, besides our most inextricably sweet and passionate memories, was also my most fervent and earnest longing for our future. But… Last night, during our annual celebration on the boat, he was called away by someone else. I watched the loud, grand fireworks all alone, but my heart was as dim and desolate as the dark night that followed. Liam never came back. In the quiet, empty expanse of the long night, my loneliness didn’t last long. Mia, a female artist under his agency, posted an explosive social media update. It was a photo of a man and a woman’s hands intertwined on a bed. I had known Liam for so many years; I had held his hand since we were kids. It was as familiar to me as my own. So, I immediately recognized the man’s hand in the photo as his. Moreover, Mia’s caption directly called him out: “Saw the most beautiful white fireworks tonight. Thank you to my boss.” 2. There was no wind or waves, yet I still felt myself swaying. The storm inside me grew more intense, threatening to smash this huge ship to pieces and swallow me whole. I felt dizzy and disoriented, but I fought back the nausea. I thought about my past with Liam, and I thought about his intimacy with someone else. After the yacht birthday party back then, the romance of our eighteen-year-old selves became known to everyone in Seattle. The public, in a clichéd yet fairy-tale-like way, dubbed us the Princess and Prince of Seattle. At eighteen, I had already been discovered by a talent scout and debuted as a singer, so I stayed in Seattle for college. And Liam, in order to accompany me, forcefully rejected his family’s plans for him to study abroad, stubbornly choosing the university I attended. No matter how much others, or even I, tried to persuade him, he refused to leave. At that time, he said to me: “Any time spent without you is a waste to me. I don’t want to waste my life, not even for a single day.” During college, we were seen together every day, drawing everyone’s attention wherever we went. After graduation, to boost my career, Liam founded an entertainment company. He essentially stepped half-foot into the entertainment industry to build a career with me. We were still inseparable. Our love truly became a fairy tale whispered in the streets and alleys of Seattle. But it turns out, there are no fairy tales in the real world. I never thought that the relationship between Liam and me would be tainted by the typical decay found in the entertainment industry. During our twenty-eighth year, my world tour kept Liam and me apart for half a year. And in that blank space of my absence, Liam found someone else to spice up his life. Just like he had once gifted me a yacht. When Mia first appeared before my eyes, I was so shocked I couldn’t recover for a long time. That was only a few days ago. I had traveled a long distance to return from abroad. But among the people cheering and welcoming me at the airport, Liam was noticeably missing. Without a moment’s rest, I rushed to find him. In Liam’s office at the company. Her hand was intimately hooked with his, the glimpse of cleavage from her deep-V dress almost pressing against his face. Seeing me enter, they both panicked for a moment and pulled apart. But an indescribable, ambiguous scent lingered in the air. I didn’t say a word, just pulled a long face and slammed the door as I left. And Liam didn’t chase after me. My fury unabated, I didn’t go home that day but stayed in a hotel. It grew completely dark, and Liam still hadn’t contacted me. Sitting in the dark, my mind was a chaotic mess. Who was that woman? What exactly was her relationship with Liam? And before I pushed that door open, what were the two of them doing in the office? In the hazy confusion of the darkness, I remembered the way Liam looked at her. I remembered their disheveled clothes, the sneaky atmosphere in the office… And Liam’s neglect and coldness toward me. I had just walked away. He ignored me, didn’t even make a single phone call. A bone-deep disappointment enveloped me. Just then, a crisp sound echoed, sounding almost like the breaking of my own heart. It was a knock on the door. Liam had finally come. I moved toward the dark doorway, hesitated, and didn’t open the door. He turned and left without much persistence, leaving me in further disbelief. I slumped weakly against the door to the floor. I didn’t understand what was happening to us. How could everything have changed just because I left him for half a year? But just as tears streaked my face, I received a message from him. It was an aerial video. The dazzling large screens all over the city were displaying my photos, along with slogans congratulating me on the perfect conclusion of my world tour and welcoming me home… Then, brilliant fireworks bloomed outside the window. I ran over to look, and suddenly saw Liam’s figure under the night sky. He stood beneath my window, looking up with a gaze of foolish devotion, his dark eyes shimmering with tears. So, he didn’t come to find me immediately because he was busy doing all this? But was this a temporary apology or a pre-planned surprise? My phone rang again. On the phone, Liam said: “Please stop being mad at me, okay? I know you’re tired, and my heart aches seeing you tortured by these emotions.” My heart felt a mix of sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy, an incredibly uncomfortable feeling. I couldn’t understand how he could flirt with someone else while being so attentive to me. With no answer and unable to speak, I simply hung up the phone. But the icon of the entertainment app on my phone suddenly showed countless red notification dots. I clicked it. Unsurprisingly, Liam celebrating my return to the city was trending. The internet was flooded with comments of praise and envy: “Mom, I made it! I’m witnessing the magical romance between the CEO and the female star again.” “Mr. Sterling and Chloe are so sweet together. I’m willing to believe in love again.” “The fireworks are too flashy, Mr. Sterling and Chloe are too sweet. It’s so beautiful it revived this exhausted corporate slave working overtime.” … Most of these comments came from the “shippers” of Liam and me. I was very familiar with the usernames and avatars of those top fans. They were all good friends who had accompanied Liam and me along the way. Even they were so emotionally invested in our love, so my heart softened again. I rushed downstairs and tightly hugged Liam’s cold body, sobbing uncontrollably in his arms. “You made me angry today.” Liam wrapped his arms around me, burying his head in the crook of my neck, taking a deep breath as if craving my warmth: “If I hold you like this, are you still mad?” I bit my lip, staying silent. He kissed me gently: “It was my fault for forgetting to pick you up at the airport today, but there really is nothing between Mia and me. We’ve been together for so many years, don’t you trust me?” I believed him. But for the next few days, Liam became extremely busy. He would stay with me for a short while before getting a phone call, then use an emergency at work as an excuse to leave. Meanwhile, I was busy preparing for the final concert of my tour in Seattle. As a result, we rarely had time to be intimate together. I was conflicted, and my suspicions about what Liam was doing resurfaced. Yet, I didn’t know if I should make a scene again, or if I was truly making a mountain out of a molehill. Until yesterday, my twenty-eighth birthday. He decorated our Love of a Lifetime yacht with great care, making it look exceptionally beautiful. It was adorned everywhere with pink and purple ribbons and balloons. A massive display of Floyd roses spelled out our names. Liam popped the champagne himself, his eyes radiant: “Let’s remember every important day in our lives. Happy birthday, Chloe.” I thought he had been busy planning this surprise for me the past few days, and all my suppressed unhappiness was swept away. But when the fireworks bloomed, he lied and left once again, rushing toward someone else. The bubbles in the champagne were still fizzing upwards, like sounds growing within the wine. But the next second, the sea breeze scrambled that sound. I tilted my head back and downed the champagne… It turns out that many things are just like the foam in this wine—they surge to life for a moment, and then vanish without a trace. Then, Mia posted that social media update… It was as if the Sword of Damocles, which had been hanging over my head, finally fell. Liam had truly betrayed me! My mind went blank, seemingly visualizing the “white fireworks” belonging to Liam that Mia had mentioned. I knew then that I never wanted to see fireworks again. I never wanted to step onto that boat again. The love story between Liam and me was finally reaching its end. 3. At the fake death agency, before I could answer the staff member’s question about whether I felt regret, I suddenly received a call from Liam. The voice on the other end was full of tension and concern: “Chloe, where did you go? Didn’t we agree to have dinner at my parents’ house today? Why aren’t you home yet?” I took a deep breath. How I wanted to scream at Liam that I wasn’t coming home because he hadn’t come home for the entire night! Even if he used a fire in the company practice room and people being trapped as an excuse, I still knew what he did all night. Because last night, I also received a call from the female protagonist of that “accident,” Mia—perhaps calling it a live broadcast of his infidelity would be more accurate. On the phone, Liam and Mia’s voices intertwined. Each sound formed a massive net that blotted out the sky and heavily ensnared my heart. Liam’s voice was coarse and obscene in a way I had never heard before: “You dared to set a fire just to seduce me? Are you really not afraid I’ll have you thrown in jail?!” Mia just laughed: “Right now, Mr. Sterling, it’s you who has ‘gone in’.” Liam began to exert more force: “You caused trouble to seduce me back here, so you must bear the consequences yourself!” “Weren’t you acting crazy and giving it your all just now? Why are you moaning so weakly now, as if I’m forcing you?” Mia’s voice sounded pitiful, a mix of laughter and crying: “Does Mr. Sterling like me like this?” “I love it. That’s why I couldn’t bear to stay away.” … Like a fish caught in a net, experiencing a suffocating dull pain, I struggled through listening to over an hour of betrayal. After a long groan from Liam, the sound of running water came from the bathroom. Then came Mia’s satiated, sharp, and venomous provocation: “How was it, Ms. Hastings? Did you enjoy listening?” “I’m just being kind. Mr. Sterling told me you are rigid and boring in bed, so I’m giving you a chance to learn.” My mind was already at the breaking point. I had no energy, nor did I want to argue with her. But her words were truly sickening, so I gritted my teeth and let out a cold sneer: “I also think Miss Mia has a real talent in this area. You’d definitely have a grand career as an adult actress. Why bother being a singer here?” Mia laughed too, deliberately making her words vague and suggestive: “You don’t need to mock me. It’s my skill that keeps Mr. Sterling fascinated by my body.” “That’s why he spent so much money to sign me to his company, keeping me by his side every moment… anytime, anywhere…” I felt all the blood in my body turn cold. It seemed all the seawater rushed into my veins at that moment, making my head swell and my teeth chatter from the chill: “You think that’s love?” Mia laughed wantonly: “Why wouldn’t it be love?” “People say you can’t exchange true feelings for true feelings, but effort definitely exchanges for sound.” “You heard how loud we were screaming. It’s been a long, long time since Mr. Sterling put this much effort into you, hasn’t it? He loves me far deeper than he loves you.” “Besides, Mr. Sterling gives me money, resources, and connections. He’s very dedicated to helping me climb up.” “You probably don’t know this, but as soon as he signed me, he gave me major productions. I’m already the most popular female singer in Seattle.” “Oh, and that yacht symbolizing your ‘love of a lifetime’—I have one too.” “During the half-year you left Seattle, Mr. Sterling and I were intimately entangled on the boat he bought for me.” “My new boat is bigger and more luxurious. Your boat is old now, and so are you.” “So, I will completely replace you very soon. In bed, in your career, in life… in every aspect.” Every word she spoke felt like concentrated sulfuric acid, splashing heavily onto my heart, burning my skin and flesh. I never imagined my Liam would fall in love with someone else. Even more unimaginable was that Liam and Mia had only known each other for half a year, yet he could devote himself so fully to her! So what were the past twenty years between Liam and me? What was his promise at eighteen? What was our grand ship, the Love of a Lifetime? Or did the tragedy begin when we mimicked Jack and Rose’s sweet words? It turns out there are sudden disasters in this world, sudden partings, and naturally, sudden losses of love. The Titanic sank, and so would our Love of a Lifetime. After a night of agonizing reflection. Perhaps Mia was right. My ship was old, and so was I. But the Liam she had used was old now too. Then let’s discard all the old things. Whether it was the old yacht or the unfaithful Liam, I didn’t want them anymore. And to achieve this goal as quickly as possible, I brought myself to the fake death agency. I was going to blow up that ship. It seemed I had to use such a tragic and grand method to make Liam understand exactly what he had lost. 4. The extreme desolation in my heart had truly made me forget about the dinner with Liam’s parents. Until Liam called me. Although his heart had strayed and I decided to cut all ties with him, Liam’s parents watched me grow up and were very close to me. So, I decided to suppress all the displeasure in my heart and go to this dinner properly. To say a proper goodbye. Thus, I swallowed the sarcasm that almost blurted out to Liam: “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your parents. I’m preparing a gift. You don’t need to wait for me; I’ll head over there myself later.” “You’re always the most thoughtful and considerate.” Liam’s voice, which had just carried a hint of nervous tension, relaxed. I didn’t know why he was so nervous. Did he realize he couldn’t find me? Or was he feeling guilty about his absurd night with someone else? But that didn’t matter to me anymore. The story between us had already ended with his betrayal. Therefore, not wanting to waste any more time, I spoke decisively to the agency staff: “The yacht must be blown up. I don’t want people to continue flocking to a symbol of deteriorated and fake love. It’s best blown to pieces; there’s nothing to regret.” “Alright, the plan will be executed in three days. If there are no issues, please sign here.” “Okay.” Without any further hesitation, I signed my name with sharp, decisive strokes. From eighteen to twenty-eight, exactly ten years. Time has passed, and everything is so different now. The me of ten years ago absolutely never imagined that ten years later, Liam and I would fall apart so completely. And in such a resolute way. I buried my love for Liam in my heart. Let the sea also bury the ship that carried our most beautiful memories and our deep promises to each other. Let the story end exactly where it began. Turn the starting point into the breaking point.

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