Category: English

My husband went with me to the spa to get a body treatment. The outspoken spa owner didn’t hold back. “Bro, looking at how wide your wife’s hips are, she’s definitely had a few kids.” “She’s got stretch marks all over, too. What do you mean you guys don’t have kids? Is she some retired escort or something?” “I’ve seen this a million times. They specifically look for honest guys like you to settle down with. You’ve been conned.” I had explicitly told this owner that my husband and I didn’t have kids due to health reasons. Yet, she was acting completely ignorant, playing dumb. It seemed she wasn’t after my wallet; she was after my husband. Unfortunately for her, she picked the wrong target. My husband was nothing more than a kept man living off my dime… … My husband, Arthur, and I both happened to have a rare day off. I decided to go with him to pick up the sports car he’d been dreaming of, and then he accompanied me to get a facial. I frequented this particular spa. The owner was blunt and spoke her mind, and I actually appreciated her straightforward personality. More importantly, her massage techniques were rumored to be the best in the industry. If I enjoyed the service this time, I was planning to discuss partnering with her to turn her spa into a franchise. Arthur dutifully held all the shopping bags from our earlier spree. As I walked into the treatment room, he called out, “Honey, since you’ve been so great today, I’m rewarding you with a hundred-thousand-dollar VIP card. Where do I sign up?” Seeing his smug little face, I jutted my chin toward the front desk. I completely missed the flash of calculation in the owner’s eyes. During the body treatment, the owner was clearly distracted. Her massage technique was sloppy and unprofessional. But her mouth wouldn’t stop running. “Is that your husband? Wow, you are so lucky. He’s gorgeous.” “And he just drops a hundred grand like it’s nothing! Where did you snag a rich guy like that?” For some reason, the word “snag” rubbed me the wrong way. I replied dismissively, “Yeah, that’s my husband. He’s just like that.” The owner ignored my annoyed tone and said with a hint of disdain, “Did you hook up with him while you were working retail? I’m telling you, the most important thing for us women is marrying a good man. Look at me…” I cut her off sharply. “What do you mean ‘hook up’? We had a normal relationship. It was love at first sight. Why does it sound so trashy coming from you?” Since when was this owner so incredibly chatty? Seeing I was actually angry, the owner pursed her lips. “You know how I am, I just speak my mind. It was a joke! Don’t take it so seriously.” “I’ll stop talking. I won’t say another word, okay?” Even though she stayed quiet after that, I felt incredibly irritated. The mood for relaxation was completely ruined. It wasn’t until she applied my face mask and left the room that the suffocating feeling lifted slightly. A little later, I needed to use the restroom and stepped out of the room. Right as I reached the door, I heard the owner chatting with Arthur. “Bro, is the lady in there your wife? She’s so lucky. You really don’t hold back when spending on her.” “But bro, looking at how wide her hips are, she’s definitely had a few kids.” Arthur frowned, clearly unhappy. “What are you talking about? My wife has never had children.” The owner gasped, covering her mouth as if she’d made a terrible slip of the tongue. “Her hips are so wide, I just assumed she’d given birth.” “What do you mean you don’t have kids? Is she a retired escort or something?” “While I was doing her body treatment, I saw stretch marks all over her. You only get those from having babies, right?” “Oh, I must have seen wrong. You know me, I have this terrible habit of just blurting things out.” The owner feigned a look of horror, acting as if she had accidentally revealed a terrible truth. The anger in my chest exploded into a raging inferno. Children were the absolute most sensitive topic for Arthur and me. We had been trying for years without success. The doctors said the issue was with me. Desperate to conceive, I took a bunch of “miracle” supplements my mother-in-law gave me. I later found out they were packed with hormones. They caused me to gain a massive amount of weight, and I had to work incredibly hard to lose it over the last few years. My skin had stretched and shrunk, inevitably leaving behind stretch marks. It was my deepest, most hidden insecurity. And now, this woman was broadcasting it loudly to my husband. It felt like my entire body was on fire. The owner kept going. “Bro, you look like an honest guy. I’m a straight shooter, so I’ll just tell it to you straight.” “The woman lying in there? She was probably turning tricks a few years ago. Having abortions ruined her body. That’s why she’s never had a kid but still has all the aftereffects.” “You’ve been played for a fool, you rich, clueless sugar daddy.” The owner patted Arthur’s shoulder, wearing an expression that screamed, ‘I’m just looking out for you.’ I let out a cold, sharp laugh and stepped out. “Oh really? So I found myself a clueless sugar daddy, and now you want to take over?” “Why don’t I just wrap him up in a bow for you!” Chapter 2 Arthur jumped like he’d been electrocuted and quickly scrambled over to my side. When the owner slandered me earlier, implying I had given birth because of my hips, Arthur should have immediately defended me. Instead, he hadn’t said a single word. He just stood there, dumbly listening to her talk trash about me. Half of my fury was directed at him. But I would deal with him later. As for the spa owner, I wasn’t going to let this slide. “Everything you just said? I recorded every single word on my phone.” “Get ready to be sued for defamation.” I waved my phone at her, a tight, cold smile on my face. Hearing this, the owner immediately plastered on a fawning, sycophantic smile. “Girl, you know how I am! I don’t have a filter.” “I was just joking around with your husband! Don’t be mad. Look, I’ll even slap my own mouth, okay?” She mock-slapped her own cheeks a few times, putting on a pathetic show of apologizing. “A joke? Why don’t you joke about yourself sleeping around until your brain rotted?” “If I stab you and then say ‘sorry’, does that mean I don’t face any legal consequences?” “Let me make this clear: this isn’t over. Furthermore, that hundred-thousand-dollar VIP membership my husband just bought? Refund it immediately. Otherwise, I’m calling the Consumer Protection Bureau to personally oversee your refund process.” Ignoring the owner’s frantic apologies trailing behind me, I turned on my heel and marched straight to my car. Right before I got in, I saw the owner weakly grabbing Arthur’s arm, looking like she was about to drop to her knees in front of him. But as she supposedly lost her balance, she very deliberately pressed her body against his. If I still didn’t understand what was happening, I would be a complete idiot. This bitch was trying to steal my husband! It took Arthur a full ten minutes before he finally strolled over and got into the car. He spent the entire drive nervously studying my face. Only after I finally shot him a glare did he cautiously speak. “Baby, how about we just let this go?” “Let it go? Your wife gets accused of being an escort, and you stand there like a spineless coward, and you’re telling me to let it go?” “I haven’t even settled the score with you yet. Someone slanders me like that, and you don’t even have the guts to defend me. Are you even a man?” Seeing I was genuinely furious, Arthur didn’t dare push it. He replied meekly, “I’m a business owner now, too. If I had started screaming at her right then and there, it would have been so embarrassing. Don’t I deserve some dignity?” “Dignity?” I scoffed loudly. “Then go spend the rest of your life with your ‘dignity.’ I’m staying at the office for a while. Don’t come looking for me until you figure out what you did wrong.” I slammed the door of my self-driving Xiaomi SU7 as it parked itself in front of me. It seemed Arthur had truly forgotten who held the power in this relationship. Ever since we got married and he got fired from his job, he had become a stay-at-home husband. Later, when I started having health issues, he claimed he needed to dedicate all his time to taking care of me and refused to go back to work. I gave him a six-figure allowance every single month, and I rarely ever asked what he spent it on. I always figured, he was a college grad from a good school, and an only child. If I couldn’t give him kids, the least I could do was make his life comfortable. Just last month, I even funded a private, upscale restaurant for him and spent a fortune hiring a top-tier PR firm to market it. It was actually turning a decent profit. He makes a few bucks, and suddenly it goes straight to his head. Now he’s talking to me about ‘dignity’. Chapter 3 That same afternoon, I received the hundred-thousand-dollar refund from the spa. I was so angry I didn’t go home for days, throwing myself entirely into my work projects. By the time I finally finished, half a month had passed. Right on cue, Arthur called. “Honey, I’ve thought about it a lot, and I was completely wrong.” “I just felt so insecure about relying on you financially. I was terrified you looked down on me, which is why I was so obsessed with saving face.” “I’m a man, too. Sometimes I just want my wife to look up to me. You understand, right?” “We’ve been through so much together. You know how much I love you.” Arthur was lowering his head and admitting fault. Even though I was still annoyed, I decided to let it go. Back when the doctors told me I likely couldn’t conceive, Arthur had fought his mother single-handedly and absolutely refused to divorce me. He even put her in the hospital from the stress of their arguments, but he never compromised. I believed he loved me. He just… needed his ego stroked a little. When I didn’t say anything, Arthur continued over the phone: “Today is your dad’s birthday, and it’s the Mid-Autumn Festival. To make it up to you, I booked a private room at that high-end medicinal cuisine restaurant, and I invited my parents too.” “We can all have a nice, happy family dinner together.” I thought about it and agreed. That evening, I went to the restaurant as planned. For years, Arthur and I had told everyone we were voluntarily child-free. His mother hated it at first, but eventually, she was forced to accept it. So, the family dinner was actually quite pleasant. Until someone completely ignored the waiters trying to stop them and barged into our private room. It was the spa owner. I had to admit, half a month later, she looked even more glamorous. I frowned, completely confused. I had only demanded a refund last time. I hadn’t actually called the police or sued her. What was she doing here? The owner suddenly dropped to her knees and grabbed my legs. “Please! I know I’m blunt and I offended you, but I’ll kowtow to you, okay?!” “My spa is just a tiny little business. Please, just let me go!” “I have a sick, elderly mother to take care of! I really can’t afford to lose this business!” She slammed her forehead against the floor three times. I was completely baffled. “I didn’t call the police. If your business is failing, what does that have to do with me?” I pulled my legs away from her in disgust and instinctively leaned back in my chair. “But you made such a huge scene at the spa that day! So many customers heard everything!” “They secretly recorded videos and posted them online! So many of my VIP members demanded refunds!” “I literally can’t survive anymore!” I honestly had no idea. I had been buried in work for the past two weeks and hadn’t spent a second online. But even so, what did that have to do with me? She brought this entirely upon herself. “So what do you want me to do? I can’t control what other people do.” The owner sobbed pitifully, looking like she was about to faint. “Just post a statement online! Say that everything I said that day was completely true, and that you only attacked me because you were embarrassed and exposed!” “I’m begging you! My mom needs money for her medication! I cannot lose this spa!” Hearing her insane demand, I almost laughed out loud. “You want me to publicly admit to your vile, defamatory lies?! Are you out of your mind?!” “Get out. You don’t belong here. If I ever see your face again, I’m calling the cops.” Chapter 4 It was honestly hilarious. To think I actually considered doing business with such a despicable person. Thank god I saw her true colors early on. Otherwise, my investment would have gone straight down the drain. I stood up abruptly. The owner, either from momentum or because I pulled away, dramatically collapsed backward. And landed perfectly across Arthur’s lap. Arthur jumped up as if he had been electrocuted. “Don’t touch me! Get away!” The owner, acting like a fragile, helpless leaf, was shoved aside by Arthur. I don’t know if she just decided she had nothing left to lose, or if her true malice simply took over. She suddenly stood up, pointed directly at my face, and started screaming: “You little bitch! I gave you an inch and you tried to take a mile!” “You ruined your own body sleeping around before you got married, and now you shamelessly claim you’re ‘child-free’? Spit! I despise cheap whores like you who live off men!” “I might have a sharp tongue, but every penny I earn is clean! Unlike you! You’re covered in stretch marks, your hips are wider than a woman who’s popped out eight kids, and you still have the nerve to pretend you chose not to have kids!” “If I were your husband or your mother-in-law, I’d throw you out on the street and tell you to go hang yourself!” Her sudden, vicious switch gave me whiplash. I was stunned for a second. SLAP! I instinctively grabbed my right cheek. The pain made my entire face go numb. My mother-in-law, her eyes bloodshot with rage, was trembling violently. She pointed at me and screamed: “I knew it! I knew there was no way my son would just randomly decide not to have kids! You’re just a barren old hen who can’t lay an egg!” “A cheap slut like you saw how honest my son is and decided to trap him!” “My son is a genius! He scored a 680 on his college entrance exams! Marrying a trashy girl from a trashy college like you is the worst luck he’s ever had! If I don’t beat you to death today, my name isn’t Martha!” My mother-in-law grew up working on a farm. Even though I had moved her to the city years ago and pampered her, she was still as strong as an ox. She lunged forward, shoved me violently to the floor, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and slapped me across the face again and again. My dad finally snapped out of his shock and kicked my mother-in-law hard, knocking her off me. Seeing his mother get kicked, Arthur flew into a blind rage. He punched my dad square in the face, knocking him to the floor. My dad’s head smashed directly into the sharp corner of a heavy wooden table. Blood gushed everywhere. My dad instantly lost consciousness. I was paralyzed with terror. My mom carefully laid my dad flat on the ground. I finally freed my hands to call 911. But the spa owner violently kicked my phone out of my hand. “Don’t let her call the cops! If she calls the cops, Arthur will get arrested!” Hearing that, my mother-in-law immediately grabbed my phone and threw it into a boiling pot of chicken soup. She blocked the door with her body, looking ready to murder anyone who tried to pass. “Let’s see who dares to arrest my son! You’ll have to step over my dead body!” I ignored the scalding heat of the soup and reached in to grab my phone, but it was already completely dead. By some horrible coincidence, my mom’s phone had died earlier that evening. “Arthur! This is your father-in-law! He’s always treated you so well! Call 911 right now!” I screamed frantically. But Arthur just stood there, watching coldly. “Honey, I have to say, you really pushed it too far this time.” “Your dad brought this on himself. Who kicks their own mother-in-law?” “If you promise, right here and now, that the second we walk out that door, you will not press charges against me… then I’ll call 911.” I looked down. My dad’s face was turning an alarming shade of pale. The blood was pooling, staining the floor a horrifying red. My mom was sobbing uncontrollably, holding my dad’s hand, shaking violently. Chapter 5 Waiters were pounding on the door from outside, asking what was wrong. My mother-in-law locked the deadbolt and kept her body pressed against the door. “Arthur, I promise you. The second we leave this room, I will absolutely not hold you legally responsible.” I swore, hitting my chest for emphasis. But then, the spa owner pulled out her phone, started recording, and shoved the camera right in my face. “Say that your dad hit his own head! Say that the reason you can’t have kids is because you ruined your own body sleeping around! Say it!” The phone was practically touching my nose. I looked at the man sitting comfortably in the captain’s chair. My heart shattered into a million pieces. “Arthur, is this really what you want? Fine. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” I stood up and stared dead into the owner’s camera. “I, Chloe Vance, declare that my father’s head injury… was caused directly by Arthur.” Thud. A heavy arc flew through the air. I kicked the spa owner squarely in the chest, sending her crashing into the wall. I spun around, grabbed a heavy meat fork from the dining table, and leaped in front of my mother-in-law. I jammed the fork directly into the side of her neck, right over her carotid artery. I only pushed it deep enough to draw blood. “Open the door. Or I will sever her artery and let her die right here alongside my dad.” Seeing the blood dripping down her neck, my mother-in-law started wailing like a banshee. She opened the door immediately. Waiters rushed in and carefully carried my dad out. My mother-in-law, clutching her bleeding neck, kept alternating between demanding someone call the police for her, and demanding they call an ambulance for her. Nobody paid any attention to her. After all, I was the one who owned this restaurant. Thank god my dad was okay. The doctor said if we had been even a few minutes later, he wouldn’t have made it. The moment I saw my dad was out of danger, something inside my brain simply snapped… The entire situation had been too chaotic for me to think clearly. But looking back now, the whole night was full of red flags. For example, how did the spa owner know exactly where our private family dinner was taking place? For example, why did the owner call Arthur by his first name when telling his mother to block the door? For example, when the owner fell onto Arthur’s lap, his reaction of jumping up seemed incredibly exaggerated and theatrical. My woman’s intuition screamed that this wasn’t just a simple coincidence. I accessed the security cameras in our house. I scrubbed back two weeks. Nothing unusual. I checked Arthur’s credit card statements for the last month. Just normal expenses—food, drinks, shopping. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. However, a single transfer to a real estate agency caught my eye. Following the paper trail, I quickly discovered the truth: Arthur and the spa owner were actually living together. Arthur had used my money to rent an apartment for the owner, located just a few blocks from her spa. I secretly trailed them for a few days. Sure enough, the husband who hadn’t shown his face once while my dad was in the hospital… Was playing the role of a loving, devoted husband to the spa owner. They went grocery shopping together, cooked together, walked the dog together, and even showered together. Since they were so happy, I decided to give them a very special gift. Chapter 6 I pressed charges against Arthur for Aggravated Assault and simultaneously filed for divorce, demanding he leave with absolutely nothing. The restaurant’s security cameras had captured him violently punching my dad and knocking him into the table in crystal-clear high definition. I was not letting this go. When Arthur was arrested and thrown into a holding cell, he looked at me with pure disgust. “You really don’t know how good you have it. You’re barren, and I didn’t even care, and you still called the cops on me.” “Lily was right. You’re just a cheap slut who found an honest guy to settle down with. Otherwise, how could a woman possibly have this much money?” “All that weight you gained ‘trying to get pregnant’? Lily told me everything. You gained that weight carrying a baby for your rich sugar daddy!” “If you want a divorce, fine! You think I’m scared of you? I’m not a loser. I have my own business now!” Arthur had completely lost his mind, rambling incoherently. The suffocating knot that had been tight in my chest for days instantly vanished. If he wanted to tear off the mask, fine. From now on, we walk our separate paths. I will thrive, and I will make sure you suffer. Arthur had signed an ironclad prenup before we got married. He couldn’t touch a single penny of my assets. Except, of course, for the private restaurant I had invested in for him. Furthermore, he was sentenced to six months in jail for assault and ordered to pay $20,000 in restitution. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was enough to make him miserable. As for the spa owner, Lily, I wasn’t letting her off the hook either. I hired a private investigator. Turns out, she was actually married. Her husband worked out of state year-round, so they rarely saw each other, giving Lily the perfect opportunity to play the field. I mailed photos of Lily and Arthur cohabitating directly to her husband. Sure enough, that very night, I received a video. Lily’s husband had beaten her to a pulp. They had smashed everything in their house to pieces. Lily, pointing a bloody finger at her husband, screamed that he was a useless loser. She told him not to get in the way of her getting rich. She bragged that once Arthur got out of jail, she was going to be a wealthy socialite. She said that even if he didn’t want a divorce, she was filing for one anyway. The couple fought for an entire night. Since I have such a kind heart… I also arranged for Lily’s mother-in-law to be brought into the city from her rural village. This old lady was a force of nature. She sat outside Lily’s apartment complex and screamed curses at her for seven days and seven nights straight. She even slept on a piece of cardboard by the front gate. She hurled every profane insult in the book, loudly proclaiming to the entire neighborhood that Lily was a cheap prostitute selling herself in the city. She claimed Lily’s “spa” was actually a brothel. And now that Lily had snagged a rich sugar daddy, she wanted to dump her son? Not a chance in hell. She swore that as long as she had breath in her lungs, she would never let Lily live in peace. The apartment complex Lily lived in was the one Arthur had rented. Now, her reputation in the neighborhood was completely destroyed. Desperate to marry Arthur, Lily sold her spa for pennies on the dollar. She paid her mother-in-law a $200,000 settlement just to get the divorce finalized. Then, she quietly moved into a rundown, anonymous apartment complex to wait for Arthur to get out of jail. I knew exactly what she was thinking. She was still dreaming her sweet little dream of becoming a wealthy socialite! Well, I was here to tell her: Keep dreaming! Because Arthur’s precious, one-and-only private restaurant was on the verge of bankruptcy.

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Every year on my birthday, my boyfriend would ditch me at the last minute because of his junior, Sienna. This year, I’d booked a restaurant, put on the dress he said he loved most, and waited for three hours. Finally, I got a message from him: “Sienna’s heartbroken and feeling down. I’m just going to talk to her for a bit. You go ahead and eat.” This time, I didn’t beg or cry. I finished my steak alone and ordered myself a slice of cake. I made a wish: I hoped that by next year’s birthday, I wouldn’t need him anymore. When Justin arrived, he saw me saying goodbye to the waiter. He looked confused. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” I smiled. “It’s fine. Go be with Sienna. I’m used to it.” 1 Back home, I headed straight for the guest room. Justin followed me, puzzled. “What are you doing in the guest room?” “Sleeping.” I opened the closet and began to pack my pajamas and toiletries. “What do you mean?” He frowned. “Are you mad?” I didn’t answer, simply and calmly placing my belongings, one by one, into a storage bin. Justin walked over, intending to take my hand, but I sidestepped him. “I really had something important come up. Sienna was particularly upset today…” he began to explain. “I know.” I cut him off, my tone flat. “Go be with her. I understand.” He froze, probably not expecting that response from me. Sienna was his junior, who later became his assistant. I’d always felt he showed a clear favoritism towards Sienna. In the past, every time he’d broken plans because of her, I would cry, rage, and demand answers hysterically. But now, I was truly exhausted. I carried the storage bin towards the guest room. Justin still stood rooted to the spot, his face etched with bewilderment. “You… you’re still angry?” He followed me. I turned to look at him, stating calmly, “I just want to sleep in a different room. Nothing else.” “But…” “Good night.” I closed the guest room door. Lying on the unfamiliar bed, I felt strangely peaceful. Tonight marked our third birthday together since we started dating, and it was the third time he’d stood me up. The first year, he said there was an urgent need for him at an art exhibition. I waited at home until midnight, the cake hardening. The second year, he said Sienna was sick and needed his care. I went to the restaurant alone, ate a mango cake I was allergic to, and ended up in the emergency room. This year, he said Sienna was feeling down again. Every single time, it was Sienna. I closed my eyes, recalling the wish I’d made tonight. By next year’s birthday, I truly wouldn’t need him anymore. I woke up early the next morning, quickly washed up, and left the house. Justin was still asleep; I didn’t wake him. I used to always prepare breakfast for him, but today, the dining table was bare. This time, I only bought soy milk and steamed buns for myself. 2 At three in the afternoon, I was in a meeting when Justin messaged me: “Sienna’s landlord is reclaiming the apartment, and she has nowhere to stay. Can she stay at our place for a few days?” I stared at the message, recalling two years ago when we first started dating. I’d suggested inviting my best friend over, and he’d said, “Home is a private space; maybe not have outsiders over.” Back then, my best friend was an outsider. Now, Sienna wasn’t. I didn’t reply. When I got home from work, Sienna was already in the living room. She wore Justin’s white shirt, her hair damp, sitting on the sofa watching TV. I recognized the shirt; it was one of Justin’s favorites. He’d usually tell me, “Don’t wrinkle it,” even if I just touched it. Justin saw me return and immediately walked over to explain, “Her clothes got wet in the rain, so I…” “Mm-hmm.” I nodded, changed my shoes, and walked into the kitchen. He followed me, lowering his voice. “You’re not angry?” “Why would I be angry?” I opened the fridge, starting to prepare dinner. “You said she had nowhere to stay; it’s perfectly normal for her to stay a few days.” Justin stared at me for a few seconds, as if checking if I was being sarcastic. I didn’t look at him, just calmly washed and chopped vegetables. Sienna’s voice drifted from the living room: “Justin, there’s a new mystery movie out tonight. Will you come with me to see it?” I heard Justin say, “Sure, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Then he turned to me, tentatively asking, “Do you… want to come too?” I dried my hands, calmly stating, “No, I don’t like watching movies. You two go.” He frowned. “Don’t you love watching movies?” I smiled, offering no reply. Two years ago, every time I asked him to watch a movie, he’d say, “Maybe another day, Sienna and I are swamped.” I asked him over a dozen times; he never agreed once. After that, I stopped asking. Now, he couldn’t even remember what I liked. Justin stood at the kitchen doorway, wanting to say something but stopping himself. In the end, he left with Sienna. I sat alone at the dining table, eating the meal I’d cooked myself. My phone rang; it was my best friend. “How was your birthday?” she asked. “It was good.” My voice was flat. “Who are you kidding? I saw your social media post—just a picture of cake. Where was Justin?” I paused for a few seconds. “He had something to do.” “Sienna again?” My best friend’s voice rose. “I told you…” “It’s fine, I’m used to it.” I cut her off. “Talk later, I’m eating.” After hanging up, I looked out the window. It was dark now; they must be at the cinema. Would Sienna lean on his shoulder, just as she had countless times before, saying, “Justin, you’re the best”? I picked up a piece of green vegetable, chewing slowly. I don’t know why, but I suddenly remembered the candlelight I saw when I made my wish. In that instant, I felt like I had truly let go of my expectations for him. At eleven o’clock, I heard the lock turn. Justin was back, a smile still on his face. He saw me washing dishes, paused, and came over, offering to help. I said, “No need, go rest.” He stood behind me, staring at my back for a long time. “What… what’s wrong with you?” he asked. I dried my hands, turned to face him, and calmly asked, “Nothing, was the movie good?” “It was alright.” He answered somewhat distractedly. “Why aren’t you angry?” “Why should I be angry?” I countered. He was speechless. Probably because the old me would have made a huge fuss over something like this. But now that I wasn’t fighting, he was unnerved. Men, they really are a pain. 3 Over the next few days, I deliberately avoided Justin. I left the house at seven every morning and didn’t return until ten at night. Even on weekends, I’d schedule meetings with clients or stay at my best friend’s place. When Justin invited me to dinner, I’d say, “I have a client meeting.” When he asked me to watch a movie, I’d say, “Working late, maybe next time.” When he asked why I was so busy, I’d say, “Lots of projects lately.” The truth was, I just didn’t want to be in that house. After Sienna moved in, the living room became her domain. Her cosmetics were on the coffee table, her clothes hung on the balcony, and her and Justin’s laughter always drifted from the living room. That house felt less and less like my home. On Friday night, I browsed rental listings on my phone. My best friend messaged me: “Are you moving out?” “Yeah, I want a change of scenery,” I replied. “Finally coming to your senses?” I didn’t answer the question, just kept looking at listings. Justin walked up behind me, saw my phone screen, and his face changed. “You’re looking for a place?” His voice was a little strained. “Yeah.” I locked the screen and put my phone down. He sat opposite me, his eyes complex. “Are you moving out?” I looked up at him, calmly stating, “This apartment is yours, and Sienna lives here too. I don’t feel very comfortable.” “Sienna’s moving out in a few days,” he quickly explained. I smiled. “It’s fine; I’m used to it anyway.” “You’re saying you’re used to it again.” He frowned. “What exactly do you mean? I told you, I only see Sienna as a sister.” I didn’t answer, just got up to get water from the kitchen. Justin followed me, pressing, “Are you upset with me?” “No.” I took a sip of water. “I just think it’s better to live somewhere more comfortable.” “But this is our home…” “It’s your home.” I cut him off, looking into his eyes. “I’m just temporarily staying here.” He froze. I turned and went back to my room, hearing his frustrated voice just before I closed the door: “Claire, you actually don’t believe me!” The next day, a colleague from work invited me to lunch. Mid-meal, she suddenly asked, “Are you and Justin doing okay?” I paused. “Yeah, why?” “Just… is he good to you?” My colleague hesitated. “I don’t mean to stir trouble, but I saw him with another girl the other day, and they were very intimate.” I smiled, saying nothing. My colleague sighed. “He cheated, why don’t you break up with him?” Then, she paused. “Forget it, pretend I didn’t say anything.” I knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say, you don’t look happy at all. She wanted to say, he seems to care more about that Sienna. She wanted to say, you deserve better. But I knew all these things myself. That evening, Justin messaged: “Let’s go out for dinner tonight. We haven’t eaten together in ages.” I replied: “No, I have a client meeting.” “Another client meeting?” He sent a question mark. “You’ve been busy every day this week.” “Yeah, a lot of projects lately.” My phone vibrated several times, all messages from him. “What exactly are you busy with?” “I miss you.” “Are you avoiding me?” I looked at these messages, finally just replying with two words: “No.” Then I silenced my phone and continued looking at rental listings. My best friend was right; I really should move out. I had already scheduled viewings for this weekend. 4 On Tuesday morning, I caught a cold. My head was spinning when I woke up, and my throat felt like it was being cut. I took my temperature: 102.5°F. I sent Justin a message: “I have a fever.” He quickly replied: “Drink plenty of water, take some medicine, and get some rest.” I stared at those six words for a long time, finally just replying with an “Okay.” I lay in bed until the afternoon, my head growing dizzier. I tried to get up to get some water, but the moment I stood up, my vision went black, and I almost fell. My phone rang. It wasn’t a call, but a message from Justin: “Sienna’s blood sugar is low, and she’s not feeling well. I’m taking her to the hospital, so I’ll be back later.” I looked at this message, then at my own temperature, which had climbed to 103.1°F, and found it oddly ironic. I made myself some cold medicine, took a fever reducer, and lay back down. Seven o’clock, eight o’clock, nine o’clock. I drifted in and out of sleep, the room quiet, just me alone. A little after ten, I heard the lock turn. Justin and Sienna were back. I heard his footsteps entering, and his voice talking to Sienna: “You go to your room and rest well. Call me if you need anything.” A little while later, he pushed open my door, saw me lying in bed, and walked over, asking, “What’s wrong?” “Cold.” I answered with my eyes closed. “Has the fever gone down?” “Not yet.” He reached out to touch my forehead, but I turned my face away. “Then get more rest.” He stood for a moment, then turned and left. I heard his footsteps fade, then voices from the living room. “Yeah, she’s resting… I bought you fruit and medicine… It’s nothing, you just rest well…” I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. He bought Sienna fruit and medicine. But when I was home with a fever, he only replied, “Drink plenty of water.” My best friend came to see me that evening. Seeing my fever-flushed face, she swore angrily: “Where’s Justin? Where is he?” “He’s taking Sienna to the hospital again,” I said weakly. “She has low blood sugar.” “Low blood sugar?” My best friend’s voice rose. “You’re almost at 104°F, and he’s with someone else for low blood sugar?” I said nothing. My best friend poured me water and gave me medicine, scolding me while taking care of me: “I really don’t know what you see in him. Two years, has he ever been good to you?” I swallowed the medicine, so bitter I wanted to throw up. “I don’t know either,” I said. “Maybe I just liked that he’s handsome.” “You…” My best friend sighed. “Forget it, I’m tired of talking to you.” She stayed with me until midnight, leaving only after confirming my fever had broken. 5 In the morning, I was still asleep when I heard the door lock click. Justin returned, carrying things. “Did you buy breakfast?” I walked over. “Yeah.” He turned to me. “Sienna has low blood sugar. She loves the soup dumplings from this place, so I specifically waited in line to buy them.” My hand froze. Sienna emerged from her room, her face lighting up when she saw the breakfast. “Wow, you really went and bought them? You remember even the casual things I say.” Justin smiled. “You’ve loved these since you were a kid; of course I remember.” I stood there, watching the two of them chat and laugh. I felt like an outsider. “You eat too.” Justin noticed me, gesturing to the porridge on the table. “I bought you plain porridge.” Plain porridge. The most ordinary kind of porridge. I suddenly felt that our love was like this bowl of plain porridge, utterly tasteless. I walked to the dining table and sat down, looking at the bowl of porridge, and suddenly asked Justin, “Do you remember what I like to eat?” Justin froze, clearly not expecting such a question. “Never mind, forget I asked.” With that, I stood up and picked up my bag to leave. Justin followed me. “Where are you going?” “To buy breakfast.” I said without looking back. “Didn’t I buy…” “I don’t eat plain porridge.” He followed me out, catching up to me downstairs. I stopped, turning to face him. “What’s wrong?” He stared at me, wanting to speak but holding back. I said calmly, “Two years, and you’ve never bought me breakfast once.” He froze, a hint of panic flashing across his face. I continued, “But you remember Sienna loves soup dumplings, and you even went and queued for them. This isn’t the first time, is it?” “I…” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Then I turned and left. His voice came from behind me: “Can you stop being so petty all the time!” I didn’t look back, just quickened my pace. When I got home, Justin was sitting on the sofa, his face grim. Sienna was no longer in the living room. As I walked past him, he suddenly spoke, “I’ll be more mindful in the future.” I stopped, looking at him. “I’ll remember what you like to eat, I’ll buy you breakfast, I’ll…” He stood up, his gaze earnest. “No need.” I interrupted him. “Really, no need.” “Why?” “Because…” I thought for a moment, then calmly said, “I don’t need it anymore.” His face changed. “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer, just returned to the guest room and closed the door. Sitting on the bed, I opened my phone and saw a message from the real estate agent: “Ms. Wright, the landlord of the apartment you liked has agreed to rent it to you. You can sign the contract this week.” I replied: “Great, I’ll sign on Wednesday.” After sending the message, I leaned against the headboard and closed my eyes. By next year’s birthday, I truly wouldn’t need him anymore. My wish was slowly coming true.

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On the third year of my runaway bride escapade, Jack found me in the back kitchen of a small diner. My hands were chapped from the cold, raw from washing dishes. He frowned, his handsome brow furrowed. “Alice, make your choice. Come back with me and be Mrs. Blackwood, or keep slaving away here.” Without a word, I put down the dish I was holding and went home with him. From then on, I became the perfect fiancée in Jack Blackwood’s eyes. I no longer begged for his love. I no longer demanded his fidelity. Even when the young student he was keeping showed up at our doorstep, I didn’t cry or make a scene. Jack thought I had finally learned my lesson. But what he didn’t know was that I was an awakened NPC. Washing dishes for three years was just to accumulate points. Now that I had enough points, I could finally change my character settings. 1. “Alice has learned her lesson.” In the private dining room, Jack exhaled a smoke ring, proudly boasting to his friends. “No way, the once wild and proud Miss Spencer would actually be well-behaved? When she gets here, let’s see just how well-behaved she truly is, haha.” Jack said he was throwing a welcome dinner for me, insisting on my attendance. It turned out he just wanted to show off the results of his three years of “taming” me. I stood outside the door, listening to the malicious laughter from within, my fists clenched tight. But then, I replaced my expression with a gentle smile and pushed the door open. Sure enough, besides Jack’s cronies, the college girl he was keeping, Chloe, was also there. She was clinging to Jack like a little bird, feeding him sliced mango. Seeing me, her face instantly went pale, and she quickly stood up, looking scared. “Alice, you’re here. I didn’t mean to be here, I’ll leave right away.” Three years. Her acting skills had improved significantly. Three years ago, on the eve of my wedding, I discovered Jack’s relationship with Chloe and went to confront her. Before I could even say much, she fainted. Afterward, Jack came to me and said: “Alice, the position of Mrs. Blackwood will only ever be yours, but you also need to understand that I, Jack Blackwood, will never have just one woman in my life.” At that moment, my entire world crumbled. I couldn’t believe these words were coming from the man I had grown up with, my childhood sweetheart, the one who had promised to pluck the stars and moon for me and love me forever. I cried, I made a scene, even storming into the lavish apartment Jack had set up for Chloe and smashing everything. All I got in return was Jack’s disgust and gossip throughout the upper-class circles about how the Spencer heiress had turned into a shrew. Now, looking at Chloe’s innocent and harmless face, my smile grew even more gentle. So, it’s an act, is it? I can play that game too! Jack pulled her back to sit beside him, his face full of indulgence. “I called you here, you don’t need to leave.” He then turned to me. “You still have some capacity for generosity, don’t you, Alice?” I hid the disgust in my heart, walked over, poured a full glass of wine, and offered it to Chloe. “My dear, I used to have a terrible temper. I apologize for that now. Thank you for taking such good care of Jack these past three years. I’ll be relying on you in the future too.” With that, I downed the wine. A deathly silence fell. Chloe, instead, looked uncomfortable. Jack’s expression was unreadable; he asked in a low voice, “Alice, are you sincere?” I smiled radiantly, “Of course, Jack. Don’t worry, what you used to worry about will absolutely never happen again. I’ll get along well with her.” The room again fell silent, then Jack’s friends burst into raucous laughter. “Jack, tell us, what’s your secret to making our Miss Spencer so well-behaved?” “What’s there to teach? Alice loves Jack to death. She must have been frantic when Jack ignored her for three years, so she had to come back and grovel.” I lowered my head and smiled. I once believed I loved Jack to death too. Until I awakened. I learned that I was supposed to run after Jack on our wedding day, only to be hit by a car and die, forever becoming his cherished memory, his “white moonlight.” But I chose to run away from the wedding, and that’s when the System appeared. The System said that if I accumulated enough points, I could change my character settings. I diligently washed dishes for three years, finally earning enough points. I used all my points to wish for a life swap with Jack. The System agreed. It said that if I could smoothly transition to the wedding day, then I would become the richest person in Northwood City. Now, the wedding was three days away. I raised my glass, gently and generously, to everyone present. “I truly love Jack Blackwood, so you all simply must come to our wedding.” 2. “Hahaha, look at our Miss Spencer, so sensible for the wedding. Jack, why don’t you bring Chloe back to the bridal suite tonight?” “She’ll surely cooperate.” Chloe looked bashful, but her eyes, when they met mine, were full of provocation. “I don’t mind, but I wonder if Alice does.” Just then, the clock struck midnight, and the wedding countdown became two days. My “showing face” task from yesterday was complete. I picked up my bag and smiled at Jack. “Jack, you can take Chloe home. I’m a little tired, so I’ll be heading out.” I expected him to proudly boast to his friends, but instead, his face suddenly darkened, and he looked at me with a complicated expression. What surprised me even more was that he actually took Chloe back to the bridal suite. “There’s going to be a thunderstorm tonight, and Chloe is scared. I’m bringing her over to stay for the night.” Jack said this while watching my expression. If this were before, I would have lost my mind, screaming and smashing things. But now, I considerately and generously took Chloe’s hand. “Alright, dear. Which room do you prefer? Pick one yourself.” Jack’s eyes darkened, and he grabbed my hand, his voice laced with anger. “You really don’t mind?” I subtly pulled my hand away from his. “I just want to be your most understanding Mrs. Blackwood.” Jack gritted his teeth. “You better be.” Chloe bit her lip and whispered, “Alice, I like the master bedroom.” I immediately instructed the staff to clear out the master bedroom for Chloe. Then, I packed a couple of outfits, preparing to leave. Chloe was actually doing me a favor; staying in a hotel was far more comfortable than staying in the bridal suite. Just as I was about to leave, Jack grabbed me again. He finally lost his temper and said, “Alice, you’d even give up the bridal suite? You don’t have to pretend like this. You can cry, you can scream. I’ll take her away right now.” Seeing him so enraged, I was a little puzzled. Now, I had finally become the sensible, obedient, and generous Mrs. Blackwood he wanted. What more could he be dissatisfied with? I gave him a bright smile: “Don’t worry, Jack. No matter what you do, I won’t run away from the wedding this time.” Jack angrily flung my hand away: “Suit yourself. I’d like to see how long you can keep up the act.” The door slammed shut in front of me with a bang. I merely smiled, unaffected, and enjoyed a comfortable bath at the hotel. The exhaustion from three years of washing dishes slowly began to dissipate. Jack, however, sent me a message then: [Come back as soon as you’ve calmed down. I’ve already sent Chloe back. Don’t worry, I won’t let her threaten your position as Mrs. Blackwood.] Along with the message came a pink diamond necklace, which he had bought for hundreds of millions three years ago. At the time, I always thought it was Jack’s wedding gift to me. It wasn’t until I saw it around Chloe’s neck that I went insane, storming into the villa Jack had bought her and causing a huge scene. The result was a slap from Jack and rumors of the Spencer heiress turning into a shrew. Now, looking at the necklace, I merely smiled faintly, tossing it into the trash can without a second thought. I slept comfortably at the hotel and woke up to go to the bridal shop for my scheduled wedding dress fitting. This wedding dress was one I had personally designed for myself three years ago. At the time, I desperately wanted to be the most beautiful bride in the world, so I poured all my heart into it. Later, after I ran away from the wedding, the dress was ruined, but Jack had someone custom-make an identical one for me. Unexpectedly, the wedding dress was now being worn by Chloe. She stood there in the perfectly fitted gown, turning to smile at me. “Alice, do I look pretty?” The identical pink diamond necklace around her neck gleamed brilliantly, momentarily making me lose focus. Chloe, however, had already walked up to me, her expression contorted, her voice sharp. “You think pretending to be generous will make Jack fall back in love with you?” “Hilarious. To tell you the truth, the necklace he gave you is just a fake. Mine is the real one.” “Also, what’s the big deal if you ran away? He still stayed with me last night, and he was very… passionate with me.” I looked at her self-satisfied face, and just as I raised my hand, an angry shout came from behind me. “Alice, don’t you dare go crazy!” 3. Jack nervously pulled Chloe behind him, shielding her, and glared at me. “Just because of a wedding dress, are you going to start throwing a tantrum again?” Chloe looked wronged. “Jack, I might never get to wear a wedding dress in my life. I just wanted to secretly borrow a little of Alice’s happiness.” “Chloe, it’s not your fault.” They were playing the role of a loving couple. I walked forward and straightened the crooked necklace around Chloe’s neck. “Don’t be nervous. I just think your necklace goes perfectly with the wedding dress. I saw it was crooked and wanted to fix it for you.” Chloe froze. Jack’s face darkened. After a long moment, Chloe shrieked as she finally reacted. “Alice, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but please don’t hurt me. I’ll give you back the wedding dress right now.” She fumbled nervously, trying to take off the dress while backing away, but she tripped and fell to the ground. With a rip, the wedding dress tore open at the bust, exposing a large expanse of Chloe’s cleavage. “Alice, I knew you were faking it all along. Is a necklace really worth all this? Do you really have to humiliate Chloe to be happy?” Jack rushed over and roughly pushed me away. He embraced Chloe and took off his jacket to cover her. Crash! The glass behind me shattered, and I, unable to dodge in time, fell onto the broken shards. Glass pierced my palms, and blood trickled onto the floor. I hissed in pain. Jack’s pupils constricted as he saw my bleeding hand, and a flicker of guilt crossed his face. He stood up, intending to help me, but Chloe conveniently collapsed into his arms. “Jack, my foot hurts so much, I think it’s broken! What should I do?” Jack hastily swept her into his arms. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” The two of them hurried away. The shop assistant looked troubled. “Miss Spencer, the wedding dress is severely damaged. I’m afraid we won’t be able to repair it in two days.” I casually pointed to another dress nearby. “I’ll wear that one.” The assistant hesitated. “Miss Spencer, that dress is a few years out of style.” “It’s fine. Any one will do.” The wedding itself was no longer important, so what did the dress matter? Jack sent a message: [That necklace was just borrowed by Chloe for two days. I’ll get it back for the wedding.] I smiled and sent a “hug” emoji in return. He typed for a long time before finally sending: [Alice, you’ve really changed. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a wedding of the century.] Wedding countdown: one day. My parents found me, saying that my running away from the wedding had disgraced the Blackwood family, and that for the sake of our relationship and reputation, I needed to apologize to my future in-laws. I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. When I first discovered Jack’s affair, I went home and proposed breaking off the engagement. To my shock, my father slapped me hard. “Do you have any idea how many interests are tied to the alliance between our two families? You want to break off the engagement over such a trivial matter?” “Unless you’re dead, you will crawl to that wedding if you have to.” I was held captive at home and only found an opportunity to escape on the wedding day. They cut off all my cards, allowing Jack to oppress me in various ways for three years. If it weren’t for my awakening, I probably would have died out there long ago. This time, I didn’t resist and obediently followed them to the Blackwood family estate. Unexpectedly, Chloe was also there. When we arrived, she was sitting with my future mother-in-law, laughing and eating bird’s nest soup. 4. When Mrs. Blackwood saw me, her previously smiling face instantly darkened. “You have the nerve to show your face here? If it weren’t for our families being old friends and business partners, you wouldn’t even step foot in my house!” “Look at you, you don’t even compare to Chloe!” “I’m not afraid to tell you, Chloe is pregnant. This is my Blackwood family’s first grandchild!” She was still rattling on when Jack, coming downstairs, stopped her. Jack looked at me with a completely justified expression. “I only found out about it yesterday when I took Chloe to the hospital.” “Don’t worry, this changes nothing. The child will be registered under your name when it’s born. You will be Mrs. Blackwood no matter what.” A flicker of resentment crossed Chloe’s face, but she quickly put on a smile, stood up, and affectionately took my hand. “Alice, don’t worry, I just want to be by Jack’s side. I won’t compete with you for anything.” She pretended to embrace me, but whispered in my ear, her voice chilling: “For tomorrow’s wedding, I’ve prepared a grand gift. You’d better be ready for it.” Oh, I raised an eyebrow, then I’m utterly looking forward to it. Jack, seeing our harmonious relationship, was deeply moved. He came over and took my other hand. “Alice, I can forgive you once, but not twice. Tomorrow, you absolutely cannot run away from the wedding again.” “Why would I?” I deftly pulled Chloe back to Mrs. Blackwood’s side, considerately telling her. “Sit down and rest quickly. You need to be careful with your body when you’re pregnant.” My parents were dumbfounded. Mrs. Blackwood wore a constipated expression, staring at me in disbelief. I then smiled at everyone and said, “Don’t worry, I will definitely be at the wedding tomorrow.” Jack observed my expression, his eyes filled with deep affection. “Alice, I know this situation has caused you distress. Don’t worry, I will treat you well after we’re married.” I looked back at him, my smile deepening. On the wedding day, Jack fulfilled his promise, making the spectacle even grander than three years ago. He invited hundreds of media outlets and live-streamed the entire event, declaring that he would make me the most beautiful bride. I stood in my outdated wedding dress amidst the incredibly lavish setting, ignoring the mocking glances of the guests. As the wedding progressed to the ring exchange, Jack’s phone rang abruptly. Chloe’s voice came through. “Jack, I thought about it, and I’ve decided to leave with the child. Don’t worry, I’ll raise him well. I wish you a happy marriage.” Clatter. Jack’s phone dropped onto the red carpet, and he turned to leave. I called out loudly, “Jack, are you running away from the wedding?” His face went ashen as he looked at me. “Alice, you’re the most understanding. I have to go after Chloe. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you with another wedding.” He left without looking back. Amidst the guests’ whispers, I received a system notification: [Wedding critical node triggered, character change complete.] At the same time, there was a boom outside. Guests cried out in panic: “Oh no, someone’s been in a car accident outside!”

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I picked my son up from kindergarten, and to my absolute shock, my ex-husband, Ethan, was standing right outside my door. It had been three years since our divorce. He crouched down and held out his arms. “Come here, son. Let Daddy hold you.” My five-year-old instantly hid behind my legs. Then, as if remembering something important, he poked his head back out and yelled, “Go away!” Ethan suddenly broke down. Weeping hysterically, he asked me, “Mia, they told me we got a divorce. I don’t believe it.” Three years after our divorce, he had suffered an accident that wiped his memory. He forgot that we were divorced. And he forgot that he was the one who cheated. 01 “Buy a few extra groceries. Ethan is here.” After reluctantly letting Ethan inside, I quickly texted my current husband, Liam. Liam replied almost instantly, thoughtfully asking, “Does he have any dietary restrictions?” I thought about it for a second and texted back, “He doesn’t eat cilantro.” Liam replied, “Got it.” Only then did I turn my attention back to Ethan. He was still crying. His face was a messy mix of snot and tears as he sobbed. “Mia, how could we possibly be divorced?” “My only wish since I was eighteen was to marry you.” “Is there a mistake? Did someone mess up the records?” … He had curled himself into a tight ball on the sofa. As he sobbed, his shoulder blades trembled, making him look like someone enduring a profound, agonizing tragedy. Right now, his tears were falling in massive, heavy drops. But three years ago, from the day I discovered his affair to the day we finalized the divorce, he hadn’t shed a single tear. I handed him a box of tissues from the coffee table and pulled out my phone to text his mother. “Auntie, Ethan is at my place.” She replied just as quickly. “Mia, I am so, so sorry. The doctor said it’s best not to contradict him right now or cause him any sudden stress. I’ll come pick him up a little later tonight.” Reading her message, I couldn’t bring myself to say no. After my parents passed away in a car crash, it was the Vance family—Ethan’s family—who took me in. They treated me like their own daughter. I never lacked for food or clothes. Even though Ethan cheated on me and we got divorced. Even though I now flat-out refused to call Ethan “brother” like I used to when we were kids. I still owed them for raising me. That was a debt I had to repay. I deleted the message I had just typed: “Can he go home by himself?” Instead, I replied, “Did the doctor prescribe any medication for his head injury? I can have Liam swing by and pick it up.” Liam Vance. My husband. We got married last year. The chat went silent for a long time. The “typing…” indicator kept appearing and disappearing. Finally, she sent a voice memo. Her voice sounded incredibly raspy and aged. The fierce, decisive woman from my childhood memories suddenly sounded like she had aged ten years overnight. “I’m so sorry, Mia. Please tell Liam I apologize for the trouble.” 02 “Mommy, I want to go to my room and do my homework.” Leo, sitting right next to me, tugged on my sleeve. He was five years old, an age where sitting still is usually impossible. This was the very first time in his life he had ever volunteered to go to his room to do homework. When Ethan and I divorced, Leo was only two. But as he grew up, the absence of a father figure was obvious. Liam, however, never hid the truth from him. So, Leo knew perfectly well that the man currently crying on our sofa was his biological father. The man who had abandoned us. I patted his head. “Go ahead.” Ethan watched him leave. Once the bedroom door clicked shut, he grabbed a tissue, haphazardly wiped his face, and turned to look at me. He offered a cautious, fragile smile, desperately trying to find something to talk about. “Our little guy is so big now. I swear, when I left for work yesterday, he didn’t even know how to walk yet.” “He used to just nestle in my arms and give me this huge, gummy smile whenever he saw me.” I listened to him quietly. I grabbed a glass, meticulously dropped in some dried jasmine flowers, poured hot water over them, and pushed the cup toward him. “Drink some tea. It’ll help your throat.” Maybe it was because I was being too apathetic. Or maybe I was just acting too calm. He didn’t touch the hot water. He just stared at me intently with those bloodshot eyes. After a long, suffocating silence, he spoke, his voice trembling. “Mia… you don’t love me anymore.” 03 At our age, talking about “love” felt a bit childish. But if we were really going to point fingers, I definitely wasn’t the first one to stop loving. I poured myself a glass of water and finally gave him a serious answer to the question he had been obsessing over since he walked through the door. “Ethan, we are divorced.” I looked down at the jasmine flowers floating in my cup, and added the final nail to the coffin. “Because you cheated on me.” He completely froze. He just kept muttering the same phrase over and over: “How is that possible? How is that possible?” I used to wonder how it was possible, too. We grew up together. After our high school graduation, he confessed his feelings to me, his face blushing bright red. During college, we were on opposite sides of the country. He traveled to see me so often that his stack of train tickets was thicker than a dictionary. Even my incredibly picky college roommates had nothing but good things to say about him. After we graduated, he started his own tech company. We lived in a tiny, cramped apartment. When we were at our brokest, we could only afford to order one single bowl of wonton soup for dinner. He stubbornly claimed he wasn’t hungry and tried to get up and leave the table. I split the soup into two bowls. When I pushed his bowl toward him, his tears fell straight into the broth. He looked at me and made a solemn vow: “Mia, I promise you. I swear I will give you a happy life.” We got married. The following year, we had Leo. His company started taking off, becoming more and more successful. Everything seemed to be heading exactly toward that “happy life” Ethan had promised. Except for the part where he cheated. 04 The first time I suspected something, Leo was a year and a half old. He spiked a sudden, terrifying fever in the middle of the night. I shook Ethan awake and told him to drive us to the hospital. He made a quick phone call. A car pulled up a few minutes later, but the person in the driver’s seat was a young woman. As she got out to let Ethan drive, she casually remarked, “Mr. Vance, I didn’t get to drive it fast enough tonight. You owe me dinner to make up for it.” I stayed completely silent the entire ride, until Ethan finally offered an explanation. “She’s the daughter of the CEO we’re partnering with. She insisted on taking my beat-up car for a spin.” He was being overly modest. That “beat-up car” cost more than our family’s entire living expenses for the first half of our lives. I didn’t press the issue. I only asked him one question: “When does the partnership contract end?” He rubbed his temples. “In half a month.” I thought we had an unspoken understanding. Even if something was going on, once that half-month was up, it had to end. But at Leo’s second birthday party, she showed up again. She laughed and pinched Leo’s cheek, but her sharp, acrylic nails dug painfully into his soft skin. Leo burst into tears. When Ethan quickly picked him up to comfort him, Leo’s flailing hand accidentally knocked Ethan’s glasses off his face. Ethan instinctively lowered his head to catch them. The woman smoothly took a step forward, her long hair cascading over his shoulder. She went up on her tiptoes, her manicured finger gently brushing against his temple as she casually pushed his glasses back up his nose. When Ethan put his glasses back on, he saw me standing just a few feet away. Absolute panic washed over his face. I took Leo from his arms. That night, I confronted him directly: “You’ve slept together.” He refused to admit it. He hovered around me, constantly trying to appease me. He swallowed his pride, said every sweet thing he could think of, and bought me round after round of expensive gifts. I still refused to speak to him. This dragged on for months. Then, one day… Leo was running a low-grade fever. I was holding him, trying to rock him to sleep. Ethan completely ignored the fact that our son was sick. He violently smashed a glass against the wall. A shard flew and sliced a long cut across my calf. He yelled at the top of his lungs: “Fine! Yes, we slept together! Are you happy now?!” I looked down at the thin line of blood welling up on my leg. I spoke very quietly. “Okay. Then let’s get a divorce.” 05 “How is that possible?” Ethan was still muttering to himself in disbelief. But sitting here now, looking at him, I thought: Why wouldn’t it be possible? If he could hit his head and develop selective amnesia, anything is possible. “Her name is Chloe Sinclair. She’s younger than me, and prettier than me.” “The heiress to the Sinclair Group. Optimistic, outgoing, beautiful, and young.” … “I only want you, Mia.” Ethan cut me off. He repeated himself, desperate: “Mia, I’m telling you, growing up, my only wish in life was to marry you.” He didn’t believe me. He was absolutely certain I was just making up a cruel lie to punish him. “Aren’t we already married?” “Did I do something wrong? Just tell me, I’ll fix it. I promise I’ll change.” “Please, don’t throw me away.” … It made sense. If someone had told me five years ago that Ethan and I would get a divorce, I would have thought they were crazy too. We had been together for so long. We were practically family; our lives were entirely intertwined. When we finally split, it felt like my skin was being peeled off and my bones ripped out. I looked at his stubborn, desperate face and sighed. “Nothing stays the same forever.” He kept acting like a petulant child. “I know I messed up. I’ll change. But you can’t just throw me away.” Before his memory loss, he rarely acted this childish. If he broke a promise or made a mistake, his go-to solution was to buy me an incredibly expensive, beautifully wrapped gift. Even our mutual friends would see them and joke, “Wow, CEO Vance really spared no expense.” But I hated them. I much preferred the simple, home-cooked meals he used to make for us on holidays when we were broke. Looking back now, the signs were always there. I had tried to reason with him, but he refused to accept reality. Suddenly, I just felt incredibly annoyed. Until the sound of the front door unlocking shattered the strange, suffocating atmosphere in the room. “Mia, I’m home.” I stood up and practically jogged over to take the grocery bags from him. He handed me a cake box he was holding in his other hand. Aware that we had a guest in the living room, I leaned in close and whispered, “That bakery is so far away. You must be exhausted.” He ruffled my hair, looked past me into the living room, and asked loudly, “Any dietary restrictions?” Hearing Liam’s voice, Leo immediately opened his bedroom door and came running out, his little feet slapping against the floor. He threw himself directly into Liam’s arms. “Daddy! You’re home!” Ethan stared at Liam, his entire body trembling violently. He froze, completely rooted to the spot. Seeing his expression, I finally realized something. He hadn’t known that I had remarried.

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After being blacklisted online due to a plagiarism scandal, I publicly announced my retirement from writing. My boyfriend, who had just been indignantly condemning me, froze. “What are you doing? Didn’t you say you still have a lot of debt to pay off?” His childhood sweetheart, the “victim” of the plagiarism incident, also panicked. “Vivian, you don’t need to punish yourself like this. I’m willing to give you a chance to start over.” Looking at the frantically flashing camera flashes below the stage, my expression didn’t waver. In my previous life, these two humiliated me while secretly working together to steal my creative work. In the end, the words I painstakingly wrote built Chloe’s reputation as a genius writer. Given a second chance, I directly deleted the pen name I had used for six years. I’ve had enough of squeezing into a tiny apartment. It’s time to go home and inherit the family fortune. As for Chloe, let’s see how you finish the remaining half of the book. 01 “Ms. Vance, you keep claiming you’ll produce evidence to prove you didn’t plagiarize, so where is it?” “As a former reader of yours, I really don’t want to believe you’d do something like this. Did you actually write your previous works yourself?” Faced with countless microphones thrust towards me, I was stunned for a moment, and then my heart started beating violently. I was reborn. Reborn on the day I held a press conference to prove my innocence. In my previous life, my boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart plagiarized a novel based on my own unrequited love story. On the day of its initial release, it shot to the top of the website’s charts, creating a best-selling myth in the young adult romance genre. After being shared by major influencers, countless netizens cried out that it was a tearjerker. I originally wanted to show my original drafts as proof. But unexpectedly, my files were wiped clean on the day of the press conference, leaving no trace. I experienced unprecedented cyberbullying, receiving funeral wreaths, black-and-white photos of myself, and terrifying packages from all over the country every day. I gritted my teeth and continued writing, but was ultimately tracked down by a rabid anti-fan and stabbed to death. Right now, I merely hesitated for a moment, and my good boyfriend of three years, Sean, couldn’t help but launch a passionate attack. “Vivian, if you claim Chloe is slandering you, then show the evidence! Don’t just make empty accusations and throw dirty water on people!” He glared at me angrily, but a flash of smugness crossed his eyes. Of course, how could he not know what was in my folders? What he wanted was to ruin my reputation and make Chloe the new generation’s most popular author. I lowered my eyes, picked up my laptop, and walked to the projection stand. Boot up, screen cast. The next second, under everyone’s shocked gaze, I deleted the pen name I had used for six years. Sean and Chloe immediately stood up. I spoke coldly: “Everyone, I have been wronged today, and my evidence has been destroyed by someone with ulterior motives, making it difficult for me to defend myself. “This pen name is void from today. I am sealing my pen and will never set foot in the web novel circle again!” 02 After speaking, I grabbed my laptop and was about to leave when Sean rushed in front of me like a speeding bullet to block my way. “What are you doing? Didn’t you say you still have a lot of debt to pay off? “You think you can just stop writing because you say so? Didn’t you say every day that writing is your biggest dream?” Chloe also panicked. She walked over, tears welling up in her eyes. “Vivian, you don’t need to punish yourself like this. I’m willing to give you a chance to start over.” I sneered as I watched the two of them perform. The next second, Chloe suddenly bit her lip and knelt down to me right there! “Vivian, I beg you, please don’t leave the industry over this little thing. Your readers will definitely not let me off! “I can delete all the information and pretend none of this happened. If you leave the industry, my sin will be too great. I won’t write anymore either…” The sound of camera shutters instantly focused on her. My former top-tier editor couldn’t help but walk over to pull her up. “Chloe, what are you saying? Why are you kneeling to a plagiarist? “She brought this upon herself. You just signed a top-tier contract with the company. Don’t forget, there’s still work to be done.” I was too lazy to stay here and be attacked, so I simply left the scene. To avoid being mobbed by reporters, I specifically took a detour and took a taxi back to my apartment from the back door. On the way back, my Twitter notifications kept popping up. I clicked open and found that four of the top ten trending topics were about me. #VivianVancePlagiarism# #VivianVanceChloe# #ChloeForcedToKneel# #ChloeGhostwriter# Crazed marketing accounts denied all the works I had ever created. They claimed I stole Chloe’s ideas and threatened her to be my ghostwriter. The comments under my Twitter were a chorus of curses. [Damn, this is so disgusting. I actually became a fan of a plagiarizing dog.] [I watched the live broadcast of the press conference. Vivian Vance was speechless when confronted, and she even forced Chloe to kneel at the end!] [Good thing you know your place and decided to retire, otherwise I’d ruin you!] [Even her own boyfriend stood up to point the finger at her. Vivian Vance, what exactly have you done?] [I bet she just grabbed enough cash and ran. I support Chloe suing her until the end!] My private messages were completely filled with foul language. In contrast, Chloe’s Twitter follower count was skyrocketing, and the comments below were all heartwarming encouragement. I left a comment. [Then I wish you can continue updating daily and finish the second half, don’t disappoint the readers.] I knew I didn’t have many unpublished drafts left. Chloe was too anxious, worried that I would publish the story before she finished hoarding drafts, so she decided to strike first. But she couldn’t possibly complete the foreshadowing and easter eggs I had buried earlier. Exposing her was only a matter of time. 03 I returned to my rented apartment. A 900-square-foot place, neither big nor small, warmly and comfortably decorated by me. On the old walls were photos arranged in the shape of a heart. Photos of Sean and me. Except every single one was secretly taken by me and developed. He never agreed to take a photo with me. He also refused to post about me on his social media, and on anniversaries, he would purposely give me the silent treatment and disappear. Over the years, I paid the rent and utilities, and I basically covered the costs of eating out and shopping. I immediately contacted the landlord to terminate the lease, bearing the pressure of paying the penalty fee. I threw away what needed to be thrown away and packed up as quickly as possible. Just as I was busy working, there was a knock on the door. I opened the door and found Sean and Chloe. “Vivian, are you moving?” As soon as Chloe entered, she hypocritically held my hand. I pulled my hand out with a cold face. Sean looked at me coldly, the disdain between his brows obvious. “Moving? As far as I know, her dad died of an illness a long time ago. All the money she worked so hard to earn from writing over the years went to pay off her dad’s medical debts. “She probably aches over the $2,000 monthly rent for this place. If she moves, she can only afford those shabby, single-room dorms.” I looked at him expressionlessly: “What do you want?” Sean spoke with disgust: “Apologize to Chloe and publicly admit that you plagiarized.” 04 My eyebrow twitched. Are those the words of a human being? I angrily questioned him: “Sean, don’t you know the truth? You’ve lived off me all these years. Where do you get the nerve to say such things now?” Sean’s expression didn’t soften in the slightest. He spoke righteously. “Because you are an unemployed vagrant with no parents, while Chloe has been the princess surrounded by stars since she was in school. I will help her get whatever she wants. “You probably don’t know, but Chloe’s parents are middle school teachers. She is a thousand times better than you in every way.” The boyfriend I had been in love with since college was now attacking me with the most vicious words. He only knew that I came from a single-parent family and moved out because of disagreements with my mother. But he didn’t know that my mother was the head of the Asia-Pacific region for a multinational conglomerate. My father left us an inheritance worth nine figures when he passed away. It’s fair to say that if I hadn’t chosen to stay here to escape inheriting the family business. I would be someone Sean could never reach in his entire life. Seeing my silence, Sean thought his attack had worked and continued with a sneer. “Some people are born princesses, while others, no matter how hard they try, are just maids who can’t see the light of day. “If I were you, I would leave with my tail between my legs right now and leave everything here for Chloe. “What are you standing there for? Log onto Twitter immediately and publicly apologize to Chloe, otherwise don’t blame me for not holding back—” However, the next second, I raised my hand and gave Sean a solid slap across the face. I slapped him so hard that Sean’s face turned to the side. His eyes widened, and the whites of his eyes immediately filled with bloodshot veins. “Vivian, you dare hit me?” Chloe screamed and immediately took two steps back to pull out her phone to record. However, I knocked her phone away first, grabbed a suitcase, and smashed it into both of them, pushing them aside. I frantically vented my resentment, smashing whatever was at hand. Anyway, I didn’t plan on taking anything with me. “Since you like my things so much, I’ll reward them all to you!” The surroundings were a mess, everything in sight shattered by me. I pulled open the door and strode out of the place I had called home for three years. 05 I called my mom. We hadn’t contacted each other for years, but when I dialed her number, she picked up immediately. In that instant, my tears flowed uncontrollably. In my previous life, from the time I graduated from college and left in a fit of pique until the moment I was murdered, I never got to speak a single word to my mother. I couldn’t imagine how heartbroken she must have been hearing the news of my death. This time, I just want to willingly be my mother’s little dependent. “…Just come home, just come home.” My mother’s voice trembled continuously, until in the end, she could only repeat those three words. Soon, I boarded a flight back to New York. Before boarding, I glanced at Twitter and saw that Chloe had hypocritically posted another tweet. [Sorry everyone, I’m taking a break from writing for a while. The recent events have left me feeling a bit overwhelmed, and Vivian is also a senior I’ve always respected. I want to take some time off to adjust myself.] And my former editor, Fiona, who used to show me the utmost care, quickly retweeted this post. [Fans, please give Chloe some time to produce even better work. Next month we will host a fan meet-and-greet event in New York, everyone is welcome to attend!] It was obvious they were trying to build Chloe into a highly marketable author. I sighed, turned off my phone, and fell into a deep sleep. When I got off the plane, my mom had already brought a driver and bodyguards in a Rolls-Royce to pick me up. She said she had heard about my situation and was preparing to have her friends handle the PR while contacting lawyers to file a lawsuit. “We will pursue this matter to the end. I will absolutely not let my precious daughter suffer any grievances.” I lay in my mother’s arms. Her hand continuously stroked my back, her chin gently resting on my forehead. In the car were various exquisite dishes and my favorite drinks from the past. My mom was afraid I would be hungry and started preparing the moment she received my call. I hugged my mom tightly. “Don’t worry, Mom, there’s no need to go to so much trouble.” I smiled and said, “Very soon, the real plagiarist will reap what she sows.”

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It all started because the landscaper told her I’d ruined his prize-winning roses. That was the day Mom planted Dad in the dirt. I watched the muddy slush swallow his head, and I ran to her bedroom door, pounding until my small fists ached. “Mommy, Toby can’t pull Daddy out! I promise I won’t play in the garden anymore! Please, just pull him out!” From behind the heavy oak door, I didn’t hear my mother. I heard the landscaper’s low, rhythmic voice. Then, Mom’s voice cut through, sharp and jagged with a sob-like rage. “You useless little mistake! You’re just like your father!” she screamed through the wood. “Let him stay in the dirt and think about what he’s done!” A few days later, a storm tore through the valley. The torrential rain washed away the topsoil, and Daddy’s head emerged from the earth. He was “hosting” the landscaper for a viewing of the blooms. “Go on,” Mom said, nudging me toward the muddy pit. “Tell your father you’re sorry. He’s in a good mood today; he might actually forgive you for being such a brat.” I stared into the hole. “Daddy drank too much water,” I whispered. “He’s starting to sprout.” 1 Mrs. Benson from next door was passing by our collapsed fence when she saw me. I was sitting in the mud, gnawing on a tiny, pale mushroom that had pushed its way up near the rosebushes. She froze, then lunged forward, hooking her finger into my mouth to fish out the half-chewed fungus. “What are you doing? You can’t eat that, honey. Where are your parents?” I was so hungry the world felt like it was spinning on a tilted axis. “Mommy is the gardener’s assistant now. And Daddy… Daddy’s in the garden drinking water.” “Drinking water?” Mrs. Benson started to say, but then she recoiled, gagging. “Oh god… how long has it been since anyone took out the trash here? The smell…” The rain had carved a deep vein into the soil. A flash of lightning ripped across the sky, illuminating the pit. It lit up the back of a head. Hair tangled with wet grass roots, the face pressed deep into the muck. Daddy was sleeping. I’d told him I was hungry, but for the first time in my life, he hadn’t gotten up to make me grilled cheese. Mrs. Benson took one step closer to the edge, peered down, and let out a shriek that sounded like a dying bird. she collapsed onto the muddy grass. “Lord have mercy!” she wailed, clutching her chest. “Arthur! That’s Arthur!” “They buried him alive? My god, poor Toby… he thinks his father is just drinking…” She began to sob, her eyes filled with a terrifying kind of pity as she looked at me. With trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and called the men in uniform. When they arrived, they dug Daddy out. They started to put him into a long, heavy black bag. “Don’t take him! I’ll be good!” I screamed, lunging for the bag. “I won’t go in the garden anymore! I’ll go inside right now, I promise!” The backyard filled with the sound of grown-ups crying. Someone—a woman in a uniform—held me so tight I could barely breathe. Mrs. Benson knelt beside me. She told me Daddy was tired of being a person. She said that from now on, the worms in the earth, the trees in the wind, the flowers in the garden—that would be Daddy. He would watch over me quietly. But I didn’t want a ghost. I wanted the man who tucked me in. “Daddy! I want this Daddy!” I kicked and thrashed against Mrs. Benson’s embrace. As the sirens faded into the distance, she and I sat on the ground, covered in filth. I knew then that Daddy wasn’t coming back to wash my grass-stained clothes ever again. She carried me into her house. Behind us, the night sky erupted in a brilliant display of fireworks, lighting up half the city in neon pinks and golds. I could hear the neighbors gossiping over the fence, their voices carried by the wind. “Talk about a change in fortune. Some people have all the luck—spend a few months growing flowers and suddenly you’re royalty.” “Tell me about it! I heard that landscaper is the new ‘Golden Boy’ of the floral world. His patron is throwing money around the city like it’s confetti to celebrate. That pretty-faced boy really hit the jackpot…” I knew who they were talking about. My mother. Mrs. Benson took me back to our mansion to gather my things, but the house felt hollow and terrifying. She told me to call my mother. To tell her they had taken Dad away. One call. Two calls. No answer. Finally, Mrs. Benson snapped and called from her own number. When Mom finally picked up and heard the news, she didn’t scream. She laughed. “Look, Mrs. Benson, I appreciate the neighborly concern, but you can tell Arthur that faking his own death is a bit much, even for him.” “I’m busy. Tell Arthur to grow up. We’ll be home soon.” Mrs. Benson started screaming into the phone, her voice shaking with rage. “Fine!” Mom shouted back. “Yes, I put him in the dirt. It was a lesson! The soil was loose; Dominic went back to check on him before we left, and he said Arthur was already out and brooding in the tool shed. Tell Arthur I still love him, but he needs to stop testing me. I’ll be back for Valentine’s Day to make it up to him. When you marry into a family like mine, you learn to follow the rules.” I wanted to tell her that the landscaper had used a shovel to pack the dirt down hard. I wanted to show her my fingernails, torn and bleeding from trying to dig him out. But before Mrs. Benson could find the words to scream back, the line went dead. “Grammy, she hung up,” I whispered, tugging on Mrs. Benson’s sleeve. “This is murder,” she breathed, her eyes wet. “This is… god, it’s a nightmare.” She pulled me into her lap. “We’re getting you out of here, honey. This house is poisoned.” She helped me call my real grandmother—my dad’s mother. She was out in the countryside caring for my great-grandmother, but she promised she’d be there in two days. 2 When the police came back to the house, Mom was still gone. They handed me a small, heavy box. “This is your father,” they said. Daddy had sprouted, but he hadn’t grown into a tree. He had shrunk until he fit inside a box. Mrs. Benson stayed with me in the big, empty mansion. “Your mother… she’s lost to us. I’ll help you, Toby. We’ll give your father a dignified goodbye.” She and a few of Dad’s old friends set up a small memorial in the foyer. They began sorting through his things. “That belongs to the landscaper,” I said, pointing to a designer coat. “That one too.” Every time I corrected them, they sighed—that heavy, wet sigh that adults use when they can’t handle the truth. “Daddy says sighing makes you old,” I told them. “I know, honey,” one woman whispered, her back to me. I knew she was crying. I pretended not to notice. Just like Daddy used to pretend he wasn’t crying when he thought I was asleep, back when the landscaper first moved in. The night before we were supposed to lay the box to rest, Mom came home. Her belly was slightly rounded now. Dominic, the landscaper, held her as if she were made of glass. They were pressed together, their lips moving against each other in a messy, wet way that sounded loud in the quiet house. I stood in front of Dad’s memorial box. I didn’t want him to see this. “Ah!” “You little creep! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Dominic hissed. He lunged forward and backhanded me across the face. I hit the floor hard. Mom just watched him with an approving smile. Clink. One of my baby teeth hit the hardwood, slick with blood. Dominic flipped on the lights. “Madeline, look at this! He’s got funeral kitsch all over the foyer. He’s trying to curse the baby!” Mom’s face contorted with fury. She grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and began dragging me toward the stairs. “Arthur, enough with the lies!” she screamed, thinking my father was hiding somewhere. “No wonder Toby won’t admit he ruined Dominic’s roses. He’s exactly like you! Liars, both of you!” I struggled, my knees scraping against the carpet, then the sharp edge of the wooden stairs. My pajamas tore. I felt the warm sting of blood trailing behind us, making the drag smoother, easier. She threw me against my bedroom door. “I’m not lying! Daddy sprouted!” I sobbed. “He’s downstairs!” Mom let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Sprouted? Dominic saw him walk out of that garden with his own eyes! You’re still lying!” “I am going to beat the honesty back into you if it’s the last thing I do!” She grabbed a hanger from the closet—a bright blue, limited-edition hanger Dad had bought for me. I reached for it, wanting to save the gift, but the plastic whistled through the air and snapped against my back. “It hurts! Please, stop, Miss Gardener! Don’t hit me!” “I don’t want a mommy anymore! You can have him! Give the landscaper everything! Just give me back my hanger!” She hit me harder. “Calling me ‘Miss’? Is that what Arthur taught you? Fine. If that’s how he wants to play it!” My back felt wet, just like my knees. I lost count of the strikes. Eventually, the plastic snapped, the jagged edge digging into my skin. “You like phones so much?” she panted, shoving my kid-sized smartwatch into my face. “Call him! Call your father and tell him to stop this ghost act!” “I’m not lying,” I choked out. “Dominic planted him. I couldn’t pull him out. He was too deep.” Mom paused, then gripped the broken hanger again. “Dominic said he was just scaring him. He went back to check! You’re both trying to ruin him because you’re jealous!” “I told Arthur I’d be home for Valentine’s Day! To have this little patience, to pull a stunt like this… it’s disgusting.” She swung one last time, the broken end of the hanger catching me right in the forehead. “Like father, like son,” she spat. “Tell your dad to come down and apologize to Dominic, or you stay in this room forever.” Blood blurred my vision. “Daddy is right there,” I whispered to the empty room. “He’s in the box. He’s never going to speak again.” 3 Suddenly, the door flew open. “An urn?” Dominic’s voice was high and panicked. He suddenly hit the floor with a thud. “Madeline, I feel sick! I can’t breathe! Call the doctor!” Mom’s rage vanished, replaced by frantic concern. She immediately called the family’s private physician. As she stepped over me to carry Dominic downstairs, her foot caught my chest, knocking me back against the glass railing of the landing. “I’m scared,” I whimpered. No one answered. But a few minutes later, Mom came back up. She didn’t hug me. She scooped me up like a sack of flour and carried me to the basement clinic where the doctor was waiting. “Harvest his marrow stem cells,” she commanded. “Dominic is perfectly healthy, but he’s suddenly anemic. It has to be the stress these two put him through. A ‘spiritual’ clash. We need to boost Dominic’s system.” The doctor, a man named Dr. Miller, hesitated. He looked at my pale, bruised face. “The boy is malnourished, Madeline. He hasn’t slept. Stem cells aren’t for ‘boosting’ a healthy adult, and taking them from a child this small is…” Mom’s eyebrows drew together into a terrifying line. “Can you do it or not?” Dr. Miller looked at me with an apology in his eyes. They strapped me to the table with leather belts. When the needle went in, a scream tore out of me that I didn’t recognize as my own. “Daddy! Daddy, save me!” “Mommy! Please! It hurts! It hurts so much!” Mom just paced the hallway. “Hurry up,” she snapped. “He’s too loud.” The world went quiet then. Daddy, you said Mommy worked late just for us. You said she was so happy when I was born. Was that a lie too? “There, see? If you don’t scream, it goes faster,” the doctor whispered. My body was slick with sweat. My head felt like it was going to explode. But as the needle withdrew, Dominic’s voice drifted in from the next room. “Madeline, I’m still so scared. What if Arthur tries to hurt me again?” Mom didn’t hesitate. “Take more. Create a reserve for Dominic.” Dr. Miller’s hand froze. “Madeline, he can’t take any more. His vitals are dropping. If we continue, he might not make it.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Arthur is out there playing God, scaring my partner. Let Toby pay the debt his father owes.” The needle went back in. “Toby! Toby, wake up!” I opened my eyes to see Dr. Miller’s panicked face. “She’s gone, kid. We have to stop. If I hadn’t given you that shot of epinephrine, you… you were gone.” Mom’s face appeared in the doorway, but before she could speak, Dominic let out a soft moan from the recovery bed. She turned back to him instantly. “Madeline, can we leave? I’m so cold. I’m scared of what’s waiting out there… those funeral things…” She pulled him into her arms, cooing like she was talking to a toddler. “Don’t worry, my love. I’m here.” “I’ll go clear out all that dead-man trash. Just wait for me.” She started to leave, but Dominic grabbed her hand. “No, don’t! If Toby sees you, he’ll think… he’ll get the wrong idea.” Mom glared at me over her shoulder. “Let him. I’ve indulged him enough.” She picked up a heavy metal stool from the lab and walked toward the stairs. 4 Panic gave me a sudden, sharp strength. I rolled off the table, hitting the floor with a groan. Every inch of my back screamed in protest, but I began to crawl. “Please don’t!” I croaked. “Mrs. Benson said that’s Daddy’s new house! Don’t touch him!” “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Mom said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous hiss. She kicked me squarely in the chest. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I was thrown backward. “Enough, Toby. The lie is over.” She turned and marched upstairs, leaving me gasping for air. “Toby, don’t move, let me help you,” Dr. Miller whispered. I pushed his hand away. “Daddy! Daddy!” By the time I crawled into the foyer, the memorial cloth was shredded. The incense burner was shattered on the floor. Mom was holding the box. I threw myself at her, clinging to her leg. “That’s Daddy! He’s inside!” “Give him back! Please, just give him back to me!” “I’ll admit it! I lied! I’m a bad boy! Just give me the box!” I saw her hesitate. For a second, her grip loosened. But then Dominic appeared behind her. “Such a cheap little box,” he mused. “Arthur couldn’t even pick out something decent for his own prank.” He reached out and flipped the lid open. “What is this? Gray dust? This is what made me so sick? This… dirt?” He tilted the box. Daddy’s ashes began to spill, drifting through the air like gray snow. I let out a guttural scream. “Give it back!” “You’re a monster! You buried him! Give him back!” “Oh!” Dominic cried out, stumbling backward though I hadn’t even touched him. The box fell. It hit the floor with a hollow thump, and a cloud of gray dust covered me. “Daddy…” I scrambled on the floor, my small hands trying to sweep the powder back together. But the dust was so fine, slipping into the cracks of the hardwood. The more I tried to gather him, the less there was. Tears began to fall, hot and fast. I choked back a sob, trying to stop the water. “No… I’ll get him wet. I have to keep him dry.” Mom didn’t even look at the floor. She was too busy fussing over Dominic. “Look at you! Acting! Still acting!” “You’re five years old, Toby. You’re too old for this. If you hurt Dominic or the baby again, I’ll drain every drop of marrow you have left.” Dominic’s oily voice cut in. “Be gentle, Madeline. He’s at the age where he remembers things. You don’t want him hating his new little brother.” Mom scoffed. “You’re right. He’s spent too much time with his father. He needs discipline.” “Let him spend some time with Titan. Titan will teach him how to be a good boy.” Dominic led Titan into the room. The Doberman was nearly as tall as I was, all corded muscle and bared teeth. He looked at me with cold, hungry eyes. Dominic leashed me to the same post as the dog and set a bowl of food down—next to the dog’s bowl. Titan lunged for his food, his saliva splashing into my small plastic bowl. “Eat,” Mom said. “And stop looking like a victim. No one is hurting you.” “Your father can call me and apologize for this ‘death’ stunt whenever he’s ready. Until then, you stay here. Dominic is far more forgiving than I am.” The house went silent. My stomach twisted. I hadn’t eaten since the day Daddy ‘sprouted.’ I was so hungry I couldn’t see straight. But every time I reached for the bowl, Titan curled his lip and let out a low, vibrating growl that shook my bones. “Eat!” Mom yelled from the other room. “Titan is perfectly trained. Stop being a coward.” She and Dominic walked out the front door, leaving me alone in the dark with the beast. I waited until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I reached for a piece of kibble. Titan didn’t growl this time. He lunged. His teeth sank into my shoulder, and he tore backward, taking a piece of me with him. I was going to be Titan’s dinner. The pain was so bright I couldn’t even scream. But then, the front door burst open. “Sarah!” I gasped. My grandmother was there. She didn’t hesitate. She began beating the dog with her heavy handbag, screaming with a primal rage until Titan backed away. She gathered me into her arms, shaking so hard I thought we’d both break. “God forgive them! Those monsters!” “My baby… my poor baby!” She carried me to a waiting car and sped to the emergency room. The nurses cried when they saw me. The doctor pulled my grandmother aside and asked if they should call the police. “I already called them,” she spat. “And I’m not stopping until they’re in cages.” Once I was stable, Sarah moved me to a private hospital near her home in the country. “It’s better there, Toby. We’re going to get you healthy again.” I clutched the small box—the one with just a dusting of gray powder left at the bottom—and nodded. It was Valentine’s Day. Dominic was twirling in front of a mirror, holding up a blood-red silk dress for Madeline. “Madeline, what do you think of this for tonight?” Madeline barely looked at him. “Who said I was spending tonight with you?” “But… you’ve been doing your makeup all morning. The flowers, the reservations… I thought we were having a candlelight dinner. Do you have a meeting?” She straightened her blazer, her eyes cold in the mirror. “I told you. It’s time. I’m going home.” “Don’t worry. You and the baby will be taken care of.” She drove back to the mansion, but the silence that met her was deafening. “Arthur! Enough!” she shouted into the foyer. “I’m home. If you don’t come out right now, I’m leaving for good.” She sent her staff to search every room. Nothing. Furious, she turned to leave, but the butler stumbled into the room, breathless. “Catch your breath, man. What is it?” The butler didn’t speak. He dropped to his knees. “Ma’am… Toby is gone. His grandmother took him. I couldn’t stop her.” Madeline laughed. “Of course. He’s involving his mother now. Arthur, this is pathetic! Using a child to win an argument?” She shouted at the empty air, then looked down at the butler. “Fine. Tell him I’m here. Tell him if he apologizes, I’ll forget the whole thing. The baby will even call him ‘Dad.’ He’s at the old farmhouse, isn’t he? I’ll go get him.” The butler was shaking, sweat pouring down his face. It took him a long time to find his voice. “Ma’am… Mr. Arthur has been dead for weeks.”

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My little cousin was using my photos to online date, posting my selfies on his Instagram every single day. I couldn’t take it anymore and texted him privately: “Are you ever going to stop?” “Sis, just bear with me a little longer. I’m just one rank away from the top tier. Once I hit it, I’ll break up with him.” Later, my cousin did break up with his online boyfriend. And the professor from the physics department next door explicitly called me to his office. 1 Lately, my high-school-aged cousin hadn’t been acting right. He was constantly posting my selfies on his Instagram story, paired with the weirdest, cringiest captions. For example: “The weather is so nice today, perfect for some boba.” Then, not long after, he’d post another story: “Thank you! Got the boba.” My eye twitched as I read them. I DM’d him: “?” “…Crap, forgot to block you from seeing that.” I hit him with the real question: “Are you using my photos to catfish guys online?” “Sis, he’s incredibly good at gaming! I just want him to carry my rank.” I didn’t pry too much, just warned him: “Play less games, and absolutely do not scam people out of their money. Otherwise, I’m telling your dad.” He was quiet for over a week, but then his Instagram updated again. It was one of my selfies, bizarrely juxtaposed with a picture of a massive Lego set. The caption: “My birthday is coming up. I really want this Lego set.” …Good lord, he was actually scamming people for money now. I couldn’t hold back and DM’d him again: “Are you ever going to stop?” “Sis, just bear with me a little longer. I’m just one rank away from the top tier. Once I hit it, I’ll break up with him.” I wanted to march over to his house and punch him in the face. “I don’t care if you play games, but stop ruining my reputation! If you want the Lego set, I’ll buy it for you.” Half an hour later, he finally replied: “No need, sis. I already got it.” “?” I immediately Venmo’d him the money. “Send the money back to him, and break up immediately.” My cousin accepted the Venmo and reluctantly replied: “Fine.” Still worried, I called him and gave him a stern lecture. He apologized profusely and promised he would change. I was in my final year of grad school, and with the holidays approaching, I was swamped with errands and research. I simply didn’t have the time to keep an eye on him. He stayed quiet for a while, not posting any new updates. 2 The holidays arrived as scheduled. I was curled up on the sofa devouring mandarin oranges when my best friend, Chloe, sent me a screenshot: “Your cousin is really something else.” I clicked it open. My cousin’s Instagram story was still exclusively featuring my selfies. He had completely exhausted the small handful of photos I actually posted on my own feed. Refusing to give up, he had somehow dug up my high school graduation photo, posted it, and added a fake, sentimental caption: “I’ve changed so much.” He said he would change… did he mean changing his privacy settings so I couldn’t see his posts?! I shot up from the sofa with a whoosh, sprinted into the guest bedroom, grabbed my cousin by the ear, and hauled him up. “Still stealing my photos?! Do you have a death wish?!” “Hiss… ow, ow, ow!” He dramatically covered his ear while begging, “Sis, you’re here just in time! He wants to do a voice call with me. Can you please just answer it for me?! I’ll give you all my holiday money this year, please?!” “In your dreams. You are going to confess and apologize to him right now.” “Sis, it’s the holidays! Telling someone they’ve been catfished by a teenage boy… breaking someone’s heart like that during the holidays is so cruel!” I punched him hard in the arm. “Oh, so now you realize you’re being cruel?!” “Just let me get through these next few days! I’m so close to my rank! Once I get it, I’ll tell him I need to focus on my studies and break up with him.” He held up three fingers. “I swear, this is the last time. I promise.” Under his relentless pleading, I finally, reluctantly, took the phone. “Summer, Happy Holidays.” The voice on the other end was deep, magnetic, and incredibly resonant. It stunned me for a second. This voice, which sounded like it belonged in an audiobook, actually made my long-dormant heart flutter a little. “Hi…” The moment I spoke, I realized I was unconsciously pitching my voice higher to sound cuter. I quickly cleared my throat and tried to sound as emotionless as possible. “Hi. Happy Holidays.” “Summer, what do you want for a holiday gift?” Hearing this, my cousin immediately sat up, wildly swiped across his iPad, and pulled up a picture of a Nintendo Switch. He pointed frantically at the screen, winking and gesturing wildly at me. I nodded calmly, signaling that I understood. Then I turned back to the phone and said: “For the new year, I want a complete, comprehensive set of SAT prep books and practice exams.” My cousin’s eyes bugged out of his head. In his look of sheer disbelief, I saw his heart shatter into a million pieces. Heh. Little brat. That’ll teach you to catfish people. “Hmm? Why do you want that?” the voice on the phone asked. “Because I have to take my college entrance exams soon. I want to focus on my studies, so I won’t be able to play games with you anymore.” “I see. In that case, you really shouldn’t be gaming. If you ever have trouble with any of the practice questions, you can still ask me.” The voice remained gentle and supportive. “Okay. Thank you.” I exchanged a few more polite pleasantries, hung up the phone, and shoved it back into my cousin’s dumbfounded hands. “From now on, I will be checking your progress on those practice exams every single month. Also, calculate how much those books cost and Venmo the money back to him. Consider it a self-funded purchase. If you don’t send the money, I’m telling your dad. Happy Holidays, little bro.” I walked away like a boss, leaving my cousin standing there, looking like he wanted to cry but had no tears left. 3 Back in the living room, I had unread messages from Chloe. “What exactly is going on with your cousin?” I furiously typed away, bragging about my masterful handling of the situation. “How was that? Pretty awesome, right? I put him right in his place.” “I bet my cousin is done with online dating forever.” Unexpectedly, Chloe completely missed the point. She just replied with: “Wow.” “Your cousin can find a boyfriend, but you can’t.” “…” Fine. I’ll shut up. Chloe and I were polar opposites. If we did an annual review, it would definitely look like this: “Beginning of the year: Chloe is dating John. I’m single.” “Mid-year: Chloe is dating Mike. I’m single.” “End of the year: Chloe gets back together with John. I’m still single.” Chloe was a magnet for romance. I, on the other hand, was apparently coated in a heavy layer of male-repellent. At first, watching Chloe post sweet couple photos every day made me feel a little restless. I tried talking to a few guys, but none of them clicked. So, I remained single all the way through grad school. I genuinely felt like the metaphorical deer in my heart had died of old age. It was only today, when I heard that voice on the phone, that it showed slight signs of resuscitation. But honestly, anyone who could be fooled by my cousin’s terrible acting was probably just a naive, inexperienced kid himself. Just a minor with a bit of pocket money and a nice voice. Over the next few days, I forced my cousin to break up with him and made him uninstall the game. Once he uninstalled it, I secretly downloaded Honor of Kings. If my cousin could find a guy using my photos, why couldn’t the actual owner of the photos? However, for the next few days, I only ended up playing with Chloe. She was barely a mediocre player herself, yet she had to drag my dead weight through ranked matches every day. I had absolutely no idea how to play. She told me to pick Arthur and gave me two golden rules. “One: Click whatever button lights up.” “Two: If you see someone, charge.” So, there I was, a young woman in her prime, playing as the burly old knight Arthur, wandering aimlessly around the canyon. Whenever I saw an enemy, I charged at them and mashed all the buttons wildly. By the end of the holiday break, forget about an online boyfriend—I hadn’t even heard a guy’s voice in the game. I had even dragged Chloe all the way down to Gold rank with me. Chloe sent me a screenshot of her rank. “I can’t rank up anymore. Can I use your photos to catfish a guy too?” I silently sent back a sticker: “Warning: Will block immediately.” 4 The holidays ended. It was the first day back at the university. My advisor suddenly called me: “Summer, Professor Sterling from the Physics department next door says he needs to see you urgently. Go to his office right now.” I hung up the phone, completely confused. Julian Sterling. The youngest and most ridiculously handsome professor in the Physics department. A candid photo of him teaching—wearing a crisp white shirt and gold-rimmed glasses—had effortlessly racked up hundreds of thousands of likes on TikTok. Logically speaking, a professor of his caliber wouldn’t need me to run errands for him, even if he was busy. Feeling slightly nervous, I knocked on Professor Sterling’s office door. I barely tapped it before it swung open. The first thing I saw was his perfectly tailored white dress shirt, faintly revealing the outline of an athletic, muscular physique beneath. My gaze moved up. A few buttons at the collar were casually undone, exposing elegant collarbones and a prominent Adam’s apple. I looked up further and crashed straight into his deep, dark eyes. “Professor Sterling, you asked for me.” I nodded politely, keeping my voice steady. No one could possibly know that internally, a million prairie dogs were screaming their heads off. “Mm. Come in.” He stepped aside. I obediently walked into the office. As I passed him, a faint, elusive scent of sandalwood drifted over me, almost stealing my soul away. Before I even stopped walking, Professor Sterling spoke. “Why did you break up with me?” I froze. I turned around and looked everywhere. No one else was there. I looked at his ears. He wasn’t wearing earbuds. “Huh?” I looked at him, completely bewildered. He lowered his eyes, his gaze locked intensely on me. “Didn’t you say that if I bought you the gaming console, you wouldn’t break up with me?” …I turned to stone. “G-gaming console?” “Mm.” He nodded slightly. “If you wanted something else, I could have gotten it for you. As long as we didn’t break up.” “Professor Sterling, do you… have the wrong person?” I asked carefully. Even though the “gaming console” clue was glaringly obvious, I still refused to believe that the brilliant, sophisticated Professor Sterling I admired would actually engage in online dating. Julian stared at me for two seconds, then looked down and woke his phone screen, showing it to me. “I don’t have the wrong person.” The lock screen on his phone was glaringly obvious. It was my photo. I was holding a strawberry macchiato, curled up on the sofa, looking incredibly happy. …That was the boba my cousin brought over when he visited my apartment. I remembered that he hadn’t started posting my photos on Instagram yet, so when he asked to take a picture of me, I didn’t refuse. Thinking back on it now, that boba was highly likely paid for by Professor Sterling. Seeing me standing there dumbfounded, Julian took a step closer. “Are you still going to deny it?” As he stepped closer, that faint scent of sandalwood returned. I struggled to find the words. “Professor, you might not believe this, but I think… you were catfished by my 16-year-old cousin.” “?” He frowned slightly. “I mean… the person you were chatting and gaming with was actually my cousin.” “You forgot, we spoke on the phone. I recognize your voice.” “It really was my cousin.” I quickly pulled out my own phone. “Look, this is my actual WeChat account.” He glanced at my phone screen. “Regardless of which account you use, add me back first.” “Professor…” I tried to explain further, but my phone rang. “Sis, I brought you the documents you asked for. Where are you?” Talk about perfect timing. Excitedly, I told him where I was and ordered him to get here immediately. Julian’s expression remained entirely neutral. He pulled out a book and started reading it. I couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. He sat in a leather office chair, his long legs crossed, his clean, elegant fingers turning the pages of the book. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting shadows across his face. He looked incredibly aloof and aristocratic. I couldn’t figure it out. How could someone this ethereal and refined fall for an online romance? More accurately, how could he fall for my 16-year-old cousin, and even get scammed into buying so many toys and snacks? Was his scam-prevention awareness really that terrible? The ringing of my phone broke my deep thoughts. “Sis, which building was it again? I can’t find it.” Exasperated, I ran downstairs to get him. It took forever before I finally saw him waving a folder in the air. “Sis, I’m over here!” “Mm, great.” I grabbed his sleeve and dragged him toward the stairwell. “What are you doing, Sis? Are you taking me out to eat?” he asked cluelessly as we walked. I offered a sweet smile. “No. I’m taking you to meet your online boyfriend.” “?” He stopped dead in his tracks and absolutely refused to take another step. “Sis, stop joking around.” I opened the office door. My cousin was still glued to the wall, refusing to move. I kicked him squarely in the butt, shoving him inside. “Professor Sterling, my cousin is here. You can hit him or scold him however you want. Don’t hold back.” The room fell dead silent. Awkwardness rapidly expanded in the air. My pathetic cousin, wearing his high school uniform and backpack, stared silently at Julian, who was wearing a crisp white shirt, black dress pants, and an incredibly cold expression. My cousin took one look at Julian, guiltily averted his eyes, and meekly stared at the floor, picking at his fingernails. “You loved lying so much, didn’t you?” I whispered harshly. “Hurry up. Introduce yourself.” Unable to withstand my glare, he spoke, his voice trembling on the verge of tears: “Hello, older brother. I am your online girlfriend, ‘Sweet Strawberry’.” Julian sat in his office chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk. His eyes were unreadable, radiating the intense, oppressive aura of an angry teacher. My cousin absolutely did not dare to look up. Standing behind him, I could see his shoulders shaking. He was definitely crying. I felt a little bad for him, but he totally deserved it. After a moment of silence, Julian turned his head to look at me. “Summer, your cousin played with my feelings. As an adult, shouldn’t you take responsibility for your cousin’s actions?” “Yes.” I kept my head down too, honestly admitting fault. “I’m so sorry, Professor Sterling. I will reimburse you for all your financial losses.” “I don’t need financial reimbursement.” He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s just that… now I don’t have anyone to play games with me.” “Huh?” I was confused. “My heart was broken by your brother. Shouldn’t you take responsibility for that?” I looked at my cousin, who was still standing there wearing his backpack, acting like an ostrich burying its head in the sand. My eye twitched. “My cousin… broke your heart?” Julian said very seriously, “Yes. I bought him boba, sent him gifts, and played games with him. Even though it was online, I took it very seriously.” Me: “…” Really? I don’t believe it. But I didn’t dare say it out loud. He raised an eyebrow. “Being scammed by your cousin hurt me deeply. I need companionship. Since your cousin has to prepare for his exams, I guess you’ll just have to fill in for him.” I was stunned. A faint smirk appeared on his lips as he added meaningfully, “I’ll be relying on you from now on, Summer.” 5 Walking out of the office, I was still in a daze. Professor Sterling, who had once been an unattainable dream for me, had somehow, inexplicably, become my online boyfriend. A massive stroke of luck had just dropped right onto my head. During my first year of grad school, I had a massive crush on Julian. I don’t know if I should call it a crush or just pure infatuation based on his looks. The first time I saw him, it was raining. I had just woken up from a nap. The dorm room was completely silent, save for the faint, steady sound of rain outside the window. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I opened the window to let in some fresh air. Julian happened to be walking by. Through the curtain of rain, he held a black umbrella. His pristine white shirt was completely dry, the sleeves rolled up slightly. His ethereal aura made him look like he didn’t belong in this world. Suddenly, he stopped by a willow tree and bent down. When he stood back up, he was holding a filthy, muddy white kitten in his arms. It was skin and bones. As he moved, it let out a timid, raspy cry that sounded bizarrely like a duck quacking. Because stray cats often can’t find food, when they’re desperate enough, they’ll eat anything—even rocks and pebbles. That’s why their voices get ruined like that. A cat that quacks like a duck is undeniably a bit comical. But Julian didn’t laugh. He simply pulled out a tissue, carefully wiped the rainwater off the kitten, and tucked it securely into his coat. His pristine white shirt was instantly stained with water and mud. In that exact moment, my heart started pounding frantically. After that, whenever I walked around campus, my eyes would involuntarily search for him. I started purposely showing up on his usual routes every single day. After doing it enough times, even Chloe noticed that my barren, dead heart was finally blooming. She encouraged me to make a move. But before I could even work up the courage, Julian went viral. A few candid photos of him spread like wildfire across the university, and the number of girls crushing on him skyrocketed. Only then did I realize he was a professor at the university, not a student. The massive gap in status between us made me immediately back down. And just like that, my crush died before it even started. As a memento, I found a way to adopt that little white kitten and named him “Ducky.” Ducky slowly grew chubby and fluffy, and Julian slowly faded from my life. I thought our paths would never cross again. I never imagined he would actually start online dating my cousin. And then, through a bizarre twist of fate, become my online boyfriend. “Sis, where are you going?” I snapped out of it and looked at my cousin, who was tugging on my jacket from behind. “I mean, I technically helped you find a boyfriend by accident, right? You’re not still mad at me, are you?” Oh, right. Almost forgot. I dialed a number on my phone and put it on speaker. “Hey, Uncle. My cousin used my photos to catfish a guy online and scammed him out of a bunch of gifts. Now the guy has tracked me down and is demanding compensation.” The next second, my uncle’s furious screaming echoed through the air. The brutal lecture lasted for a solid half hour before finally wrapping up. “Get your ass home right now! Immediately! This second!” My cousin trudged away, crying softly. I stood there, watching him leave. “You really are ruthless, aren’t you?” A familiar voice sounded right next to my ear. I instinctively turned my head, and my lips accidentally brushed against something soft. Taking a startled step back, I saw Julian’s face mere inches from mine. My brain completely short-circuited, going entirely blank. He must have been standing right behind me, leaning down to whisper in my ear. And then, completely by accident… I had kissed him on the cheek. Julian turned his head. His deep, dark eyes looked at me with an amused glint. He reached out and lightly tapped me on the head. “We agreed you’re just my online girlfriend. No taking advantage of me in real life.” My face burned bright red. “…I didn’t mean to.” Even though his cheek was soft and smelled amazing. Even though I really wanted to do it again just to memorize the feeling. It truly was an accident. Seeing my flustered state, he let out a low chuckle. “Alright, I know it was an accident. Don’t do it again.” “Let’s go. I’ll walk you home.” I followed silently behind him. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the tips of his ears were slightly red, too.

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After relentlessly chasing a poor, brilliant scholarship student, I finally got bored. I threw together a flimsy excuse and dumped him: “My family is loaded, and you’re broke. We’re from different worlds. It’s not going to work.” I blocked him immediately after sending the text, booked a flight, and spent three months traveling the world, having the time of my life. When I returned three months later, I discovered my “poor” scholar had miraculously transformed into the golden boy of the ultra-wealthy Sterling family. I was absolutely stunned. The entire socialite circle was dying of laughter, eagerly waiting to watch me crash and burn. —— At a high-society gala, the Sterling heir approached me, a champagne glass in hand and a freezing glare on his face. Terrified and weak in the knees, I backed up against a wall, grabbed his jacket, and screamed: “I’m pregnant! The baby is yours!” “You can’t hit me… and you can’t yell at me either!” “Waaah, I’m pregnant and you’re still giving me the silent treatment! You’re the worst!” 1 I yelled it at the top of my lungs. The moment the word “worst” left my mouth, the deafening chatter of the ballroom instantly died. Everyone exchanged bewildered glances. Arthur Sterling was so furious the veins in his forehead were practically throbbing. “We broke up three months ago. The last time we slept together was six months ago. At six months, you’d be showing. What exactly are you pregnant with? A ghost?” The room went from silent to absolutely dead. A muffled cough echoed from the head table. Old Mr. Sterling cleared his throat, took a sip of water, and awkwardly tried to smooth things over: “It’s nothing, just kids playing around.” “Mia, sweetie, come over to Grandpa.” Treating him like a literal lifesaver, I scrambled to my feet, ready to sprint toward the head table. But Arthur grabbed the back of my dress. He said, his voice dripping with menace: “Grandpa, this is between her and me. Stay out of it.” “I need to have a word with her. I’m taking her home. Everyone, enjoy the party.” With that, he scooped me up into his arms and marched toward the exit. In the ballroom, my dad, my brother, and even my lifelong nemesis—who usually couldn’t stand me—all shot me looks of deep pity mixed with intense amusement. 2 Actually, back at the airport, when my brother picked me up, he had given me a highly suggestive look and told me I was “incredibly brave.” When we arrived at the gala, my nemesis had practically sprinted over to me, her face glowing with excitement, to break the news. The “poor scholar” I had dumped three months ago because he was broke was actually the notoriously low-profile heir to the Sterling empire. “You are so dead,” my nemesis cackled gleefully. “He was just trying to keep a low profile, and you literally dumped him because you thought he was actually poor.” “He’s supposedly furious. He swore that the next time he saw you, he was going to slaughter you.” I shivered violently. My terror reached its absolute peak when Arthur unceremoniously dumped me into his car. I huddled against the car door, watching in horror as he started shrugging off his suit jacket and loosening his tie— “What are you doing?!” I tried to act tough. “It was just a breakup! Adults break up and get back together all the time! Why are you being so dramatic?” “A breakup?” He let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Is that how you break up with someone?!” “You send a text, block me on everything, and immediately fly out of the country? If your dad and your brother hadn’t sworn on their lives you’d come back, I would have thought you skipped town forever.” He stopped taking his clothes off. He slid into the car, yanked me across the seat, and locked me in his arms. His voice was dangerously low: “Explain.” “Explain what?” “Why did you randomly break up with me?” 3 Why else? Because I didn’t like him anymore. From our freshman year of college until graduation, I chased him relentlessly for three years. It wasn’t until our senior year that he finally took pity on me and agreed to date me. Dating him turned out to be an absolute nightmare. I’m pretty, my family is loaded, and my parents spoiled me rotten. I’ve always lived exactly how I wanted. But he insisted on forcing me to live by his rules. Eating snacks in bed? Absolutely not. Skipping breakfast? Not allowed. Staying up all night gaming? Definitely forbidden. His endless, suffocating rules gave me constant headaches. When I got mad and tried to fight with him, he’d just hit me with the silent treatment. I would cry hysterically, and he would just sit there quietly reading his documents. When I finally cried myself hoarse, he would look up and ask: “Are you done throwing your tantrum?” “If you’re done, go eat. I have to go to work this afternoon.” It felt like punching a brick wall. It was the absolute worst feeling in the world. However much I liked him while I was chasing him, that’s exactly how much I despised his condescending, “dad-like” discipline now. I had truly had enough! —— My dad always said that a spoiled, high-maintenance rich girl like me needed to find a soft, submissive man who would coddle me for the rest of my life. I never believed him before. But now, I realized my dad was absolutely right. I was spoiled, high-maintenance, dramatic, and prone to throwing massive temper tantrums. Since Arthur couldn’t coddle me, I needed to find a boyfriend who could. —— But I never, in my wildest dreams, could have imagined that Arthur was the mysterious heir to the Sterling empire. 4 If I had known Arthur was the golden boy of the Sterling family, I never would have dumped him. Even though I have no interest in the family business, I know perfectly well that marrying into the Sterling family comes with massive benefits. But he didn’t tell me. He lied to me for four years. Thinking about that made me angry all over again. I scrambled off Arthur’s lap, frowned at him, and demanded: “Didn’t you lie to me for four years? What right do you have to be mad at me for breaking up with you?” He seemed to realize he was in the wrong too. After a moment of silence, he said: “Fine, then we’re even. Let’s just pretend none of this happened.” He reached out to pull me back, his voice softening: “Mia, let’s go home. I made your favorite lotus seed soup…” Smack! I swatted his hand away. “Get one thing straight. I’m not throwing a tantrum. I genuinely want to break up with you.” “You lying to me was your mistake. Me forgiving you doesn’t mean I still want to be with you.” I took a deep breath, ignoring his increasingly terrifying expression, and finally blurted it out: “Arthur, I don’t like you anymore.” “Let’s just end this peacefully and walk away with our dignity intact, okay?” 5 The underground parking garage was dimly lit. Arthur stared at me coldly, his brow furrowing in deep annoyance. He warned: “Mia, you’re taking this too far.” “Apologize to me right now, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Otherwise, you aren’t getting out of bed tomorrow.” I shook my head without a second of hesitation: “I’m serious about breaking up. I’m not being dramatic, and I’m not throwing a fit.” “Arthur, I don’t like you anymore. I really don’t like you. I don’t like you at all. I hate looking at you. Do you understand?” I repeated “don’t like” several times. Arthur’s face grew darker and darker. He suddenly threw his arm around me, hauled me fully against his chest, leaned down, grabbed my jaw, and kissed me forcefully. “Arthur—” “Do you remember what I told you when we first started dating?” His voice was incredibly low. My brain was foggy from the kiss, but I dug through my memories and finally found the quote he was talking about: “My family is historically devoted. When we choose someone, it’s forever.” “Mia, if you choose to be with me, it’s for the rest of your life. Are you absolutely sure about this?” Back then, I had confidently answered, “Of course.” …But weren’t those just cheesy, romantic things couples say to each other?! If he wanted to hear them, I could promise him the moon and the stars! But how could anyone apply that to real life?! “I never say things I don’t mean.” Arthur gently nudged his nose against my cheek: “To me, dating and marriage are the exact same thing. Both mean I have committed to one person.” “In my world, divorce does not exist, and breaking up is not an option. The only reason I will ever separate from my partner is death.” “Mia, do you really want to test me again?” 6 Tyrant! I glared at him furiously and reached out to pinch his arm. He just let me pinch him, using his other hand to stroke my hair. Suddenly, he said: “Your dad has been trying to secure a partnership with the Sterling Group recently. Did you know that?” I shook my head. He continued: “Your family doesn’t have a competitive edge against the other bidders. Getting that project won’t be easy.” “I can help you, but you have to be good.” “You are never allowed to mention breaking up again. If there is a next time, I won’t be this forgiving. Understand?” “…You!” I stared at him in disbelief. “You’re actually using my family’s company to blackmail me?!” “Are you even human, Arthur?! You’re a heartless, cold-blooded, psychopathic monster—” “If you don’t know how to use big words properly, don’t use them. No one is forcing you to pretend you’re smart.” Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Mia, I just want you to be good.” “When you aren’t good, I can’t focus on work.” “I said I want to break—” “Alright, if you keep pushing this, I’m genuinely going to get angry.” He reached down, took my hand, and gently stroked my fingertips. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper: “Mia, you really don’t want to see what happens when I get angry.” I snapped my mouth shut instantly. 7 When Arthur got angry, it was terrifying. Literally terrifying. The last time he got angry, I had stayed up all night gaming while running a high fever, which developed into pneumonia. Arthur took care of me in the hospital with a face like thunder. The day I was finally healthy, he dragged me to the track and forced me to run a 5K. He ran the entire thing with me. By the end, I collapsed on the track, sobbing hysterically and screaming that he was a psychopath. He stood over me and asked, “Are you ever going to stay up all night gaming again?” “Who gave you the right to control me?! You’re out of your fucking mind! Waaaah, my legs hurt so bad…” “Excellent. You’re swearing now.” Arthur nodded. “Another 5K. When you finish, you can go home and sleep.” Seeing him dust off his track pants and reach down to haul me back up to run, my vision went completely black. I threw my arms around his legs and started wailing. “Hubby, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! No staying up late, no gaming!” “I’m sorry! Waaah, my legs actually hurt so much…” He sighed. He leaned down and patted my sweaty head: “See? If you had just been this good in the first place, we wouldn’t have had a problem.” That day, he carried me home, bathed me, and carried me to bed. I was as limp as a dead fish the entire time, and I couldn’t get out of bed for days. … Ever since that day, I never dared to stay up late gaming again. Even when we weren’t sleeping in the same bed, if I heard a notification sound from my game in the middle of the night, my legs would instinctively start trembling. When my dad and my brother found out, they both thought Arthur was incredible. They invited him over for dinner and actively encouraged him to discipline me and break me of all my bad habits.

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I was blinded saving Victoria’s life. She swore she would be my eyes forever, that she’d never leave my side. I threw myself into treatment, and on the day my vision was finally restored, I raced home, my heart pounding with joy, ready to share the incredible news. Instead, I found Victoria in my bed with her male secretary, tangled in a passionate embrace, their bodies moving in rhythm. In the throes of passion, Victoria moaned her secretary’s name. “Tori,” he whispered, “why don’t you just divorce the blind man? I’m the one who truly understands you, the one who loves you.” “Just a little longer,” she panted. “I need more time.” That night, a blizzard raged outside. I walked out of my own home in a thin shirt, my heart a frozen wasteland. I booked a flight. I was going back to the Enclave, a place where Victoria would never find me. 1 After booking the flight, I thought the two of them might have finished their sordid affair. When I steeled myself and walked back into the house, I found they had moved from the bedroom to the living room. They were still locked in a feverish kiss, the air thick with the scent of sex. Victoria’s lust-filled eyes met mine, and she bit her lower lip, stifling a moan. But Asher, her secretary, was deliberately cruel. He thrust against her, hard. “Relax, Tori,” he murmured against her ear, his voice a low taunt. “David is blind. He can’t see us.” He shot me a look of pure contempt. Victoria pinched his side. “Don’t be wicked. We can’t let him hear anything.” “Oh, but I think this is so much more exciting,” he chuckled. “Damn, I think we’re out. We need a new one.” He whispered something in her ear, and she stilled her movements, her gaze falling on me, sitting on the opposite sofa. “Should I get it, or should we make him?” Asher asked, his eyes glinting with malice. After a moment’s hesitation, Victoria gave in to his game. “David,” she called out, her voice husky. “My throat’s a little sore. Could you grab that box of cold medicine from the coffee table for me?” My face was ashen. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes hazy with desire, her hands still clinging to Asher’s body. I forced myself to control the tremor in my hands, clenching them into fists. I glanced at the so-called “cold medicine” on the coffee table. It was a box of condoms. Victoria was asking me to bring them a condom. My world turned to grey. Playing the part of the blind man, I fumbled my way to the table and picked up the box. “How did you catch a cold? Is it serious?” I asked, my voice shaking with a betrayal she couldn’t hear. “No, it’s nothing. I’ll just take the medicine and get some sleep.” Asher’s hands roamed her body, and she shot him a playful glare, silently telling him to stop. She took the box from my hand. “You should get some rest too. I’ll sleep in the guest room. I don’t want to infect you.” Then, Asher swept her into his arms, and they disappeared into the guest room. After they were gone, a bitter sting filled my nose, and my eyes burned. Even though I had already decided to leave her, the pain was a physical blow. Victoria had sworn she would never lie to me, never betray me. She had broken her vow. I picked up my phone and called my mentor, the Elder of my people. “Elder, it’s David. I am ready to come home and take my place as your successor.” “Are you certain? Once you return, you can never leave again. You know the valley is sealed, hidden from the outside world. Can you truly bear to leave Victoria?” “I can,” I answered without hesitation. The Elder was silent for a long moment. “Very well. Come back in seven days.” I had once hesitated to return, unable to leave her. Now, she had made the choice for me. I glanced at the closed door of the guest room, from which the sounds of their panting had already begun to emerge. “I have neglected my skills for too long,” I told the Elder. “I have a gift for medicine, yet I let it gather dust. Now, I am ready to take up the burden, to ease your worries.” “Good. You are a true son of the valley. You do not disappoint me. In eight days, we will all be waiting at the entrance to welcome you home.” “I will be there on time.” After we finished speaking, just as I hung up, the door opened. Victoria walked in, wearing nothing but Asher’s white dress shirt. Her neck and thighs were covered in love bites. She didn’t bother to hide them. After all, I was blind. 2 A wave of nausea, more intense than anything I had ever felt, washed over me. I retched. Seeing my reaction, Victoria rushed towards me, her face etched with concern. As she drew near, the cloying scent of Asher’s signature cologne enveloped me—a custom blend the perfume company had made just for him, a gift from her. The revulsion was overwhelming. I shoved her away, stumbling blindly towards the bathroom, my body itself rejecting her presence. I knelt before the toilet, dry heaving. When the spasms subsided, my eyes fell on the trash can. A pregnancy test. Two red lines. I stared at it for a long time, the two lines mocking my failure, my impotence. I couldn’t find the right emotion. I couldn’t cry. There was nothing left but an endless, hollow ache. Since I had lost my sight six months ago, Victoria and I hadn’t been intimate. There was no need to guess whose child it was. Victoria followed me, her voice laced with panic. She wrapped her arms around me from behind. “David, what’s wrong? Are you sick?” Her hands trembled against my waist. “You pushed me away just now… my heart just sank.” She held me tighter, as if I might vanish at any moment. One second, she was with another man. The next, she was whispering words of love to me. Victoria was a truly gifted actress. I pried her hands off me, creating distance between us. “It’s probably just my stomach. I’ve been having trouble keeping food down lately.” I didn’t know when I had learned to lie so easily. I had always despised dishonest people, and now I had become one of them. Hearing this, Victoria seemed to panic. The woman who was famously obsessed with cleanliness didn’t seem to care that I might be covered in filth. She clung to me again, her grip desperate. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t had time for you. You’ve been eating alone, not taking care of yourself. It’s all my fault.” She cupped my face, her brow furrowed with what looked like genuine pain. She led me back to the bedroom and pulled out fresh clothes for me. I stopped her, dressing myself. Victoria froze, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. It was the first time since we married that I hadn’t needed her help. Her heart seemed to skip a beat. I lay down on the bed, and she gently pulled the covers over me. “David, are you angry with me? For not spending enough time with you?” she whispered. “Tomorrow is your birthday. I’ll take the whole day off. We’ll spend it all together, just us. How does that sound?” The fearsome queen of the business world, a woman who made titans of industry tremble, was speaking to me with such humility. Was I fortunate or cursed? I was too tired to decide. As I drifted off to sleep, she must have thought I was already gone, because her phone vibrated. She quickly silenced it, then called my name twice. When I didn’t stir, she answered. “You little vixen,” Asher’s voice purred through the phone. “You ripped my underwear. Now, get me a new pair. Immediately.” “I’ll be right there.” Victoria glanced at me one last time, her hand gently stroking my cheek, then she left. I gripped the bedsheets, and the tears I had been holding back finally broke free. Asher hadn’t left. She was keeping him here, in our home, taking advantage of my blindness. It’s alright, I told myself. Just seven more days. Then, we will be finished forever. 3 The next morning, Victoria was up early, cooking a lavish breakfast in the kitchen. She had prepared all my favorite pastries and side dishes. She even held a piece up to my lips. “Open up, darling. Let me feed you.” Asher, sitting across from me, pouted. Victoria, right in front of me, texted him under the table: I’ll make it up to you later. Don’t cause a scene in front of David. I’ll give you whatever you want. A smug look crossed Asher’s face. He shot me a disdainful glance, then stood up. As he passed Victoria, his fingers brushed provocatively under the hem of her skirt before he walked out. I didn’t take the food she offered. I picked up my chopsticks and pretended to blindly find something else on the table. She thought I was still sulking. After breakfast, she insisted on taking me out. She had chartered a yacht and invited dozens of our friends for what she called a grand birthday celebration for me. All the way there, she held my hand tightly, as if afraid I might fall, chattering on about our sweet memories. I remained silent, the irony and pain a bitter cocktail in my gut. I once believed we would grow old together, inseparable. It had all become a joke. Victoria craved excitement, craved the thrill of a younger man. She had forgotten the vows we made. The path from the dock to the yacht was strewn with vibrant, fresh rose petals. I’ve always hated roses. Victoria knew this. Asher, however, loved them. So the rose petals were for him. Another lie in a celebration that was never meant for me. “David, this is where we had our wedding. It was broadcast live across the globe, so the whole world would know how much I, Victoria Thorne, adored you.” Her voice trembled with emotion, and a single tear traced a path down her cheek. She lifted my hand and pressed my fingertips to the teardrop. How much love does it take to make a woman cry with such sincerity? If it weren’t for her betrayal, I might have been moved enough to cry with her. She had loved me once. But that time was gone. Her love was now divided. I pulled my hand away, my expression as calm as still water. Victoria, lost in her own memories, looked hurt by my lack of reaction. But her sorrow lasted only a few seconds. Her eyes lit up, a smile playing on her lips as she looked towards the deck. Asher was standing there, dressed in a bespoke suit Victoria had made for him. He looked refined, elegant. Compared to my simple attire, I was utterly eclipsed. “Mr. Hayes, happy birthday,” Asher said with a smug smile. He walked to Victoria’s side and, ignoring everyone else, took her hand in his. “Ms. Thorne, everything is ready. I’ll count down from three.” “One!” “Two!” “Three!” Suddenly, the night sky erupted in a cascade of fireworks, painting the darkness with brilliant colors. The three of us stood there, Victoria and Asher’s hands tightly clasped. They looked like the married couple. I watched the explosions, and a sharp pain pierced my eyes. As the fireworks bloomed, they spelled out a name in glittering light: ASHER. Not David. The party, the fireworks—it was all for him. Suddenly, Victoria excused herself, asking a maid to look after me. “David, be a good boy and wait for me. I’ll be right back.” She placed a soft kiss on my forehead and then, taking Asher’s hand, eagerly hurried away.

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I had supported Lara for seven years, and loved her for just as long. She finally agreed to be with me. But later, I discovered her heart belonged to the childhood friend she grew up with. She had always hated me, believing I used my money to humiliate and demean her. For ten years of our marriage, she remained utterly cold, eventually moving out to live with her childhood friend. I, alone in an empty house, wasted away and died of sorrow. Then, I was reborn back to the day I first decided to help her. Lara’s childhood friend stood defiantly in front of her, exclaiming to me: “Do you think being rich makes you so special? We don’t want your money!” I simply smiled. “You’re overthinking it.” “I’d rather burn this money than use it to help you.” 1 “Ian, you just flash your cash around, don’t you? You think money makes you important? Well, we don’t want it!” Luke, standing defiantly in front of Lara, brought me back to reality. My gaze met hers. Twenty-year-old Lara still had a hint of youthful innocence on her face, dressed in a faded linen dress. Yet, she was incredibly beautiful; tall and slender, with porcelain skin and eyes that shone like stars in the sky. She somehow made the humble dress look elegant. I instinctively took a step back, leaning against a nearby table to steady myself. How long had it been since I last saw Lara like this? Ten years? Or twenty? It had been too long, I couldn’t even remember. After all, that was a lifetime ago. Lara seemed surprised by my retreat. Luke continued his endless rant, but his words faded into a muffled hum. Everything unfolding before me was an exact replay of my past life. Back then, she refused my help, yet I insisted on giving it. I had liked Lara for seven years, and I knew her family was struggling. Her father was a gambling addict who’d always come home drunk after losing all their money, verbally and physically abusing her and her mother. Her mother, unable to bear the torment, eventually took her own life. Lara had spent her childhood scavenging, working odd jobs, and relying on scholarships to stay in school. From a privileged background, our paths should never have crossed. But her excellent grades earned her a scholarship to our private high school, which valued its academic reputation. Our circle at school was filled with young heirs and heiresses, rich kids who barely bothered with their studies, just drifting through each day, waiting to inherit their family businesses after getting some superficial degree overseas. Lara was different. She was focused, diligently studying in class and heading straight to work after school. Despite her poverty, she never acted ashamed, always carrying herself with an unyielding dignity. She was utterly unique. Like a beautiful, resilient wild orchid blooming in a greenhouse, standing apart from the pampered, cloying fragrances around her. That’s when I fell for her. I loved her, and I couldn’t stand to see her suffer. Back then, young and foolish, I’d often push what I thought was best onto her, with an arrogant sense of entitlement. She worked nights and couldn’t make breakfast, so I’d bring her packed lunches from home. “Lara, our chef makes the best Wagyu beef! You have to try it!” “And foie gras, my dad had it specially flown in, it’s amazing.” As an only child, I had always lived a life of ease, waited on hand and foot. Everyone around me spoiled me rotten, leaving my mind empty of real understanding. All I wanted was to give her the best. I completely overlooked whether she actually wanted any of it. Other students would jeer, “Ian, what does she know about foie gras, ha-ha-ha! She probably can’t even afford chicken liver!” I’d snap back, “What the hell is it to you all?!” I didn’t see Lara’s fingers clench tightly around the lunchbox, her knuckles white. After a pause, she handed the box back to me, her voice flat. “Thanks for the thought, but no thanks.” “Oh, don’t be like that, Lara,” a girl nudged her, winking. “If you get together with Ian, you’ll never have to work again. Go on, snag him!” “Yeah, then your dad can gamble as much as he wants, and won’t be after your tuition money anymore, ha-ha-ha.” Everyone burst into laughter. I slammed my hand on the table and shot to my feet. “Everyone, shut up!” The laughter died down. But Lara suddenly stood up and walked out. I chased after her, trying to shove the lunchbox back into her hands. “Lara, don’t listen to their crap. Eat your food, or you won’t have the energy to work tonight.” She stopped, turning sharply. I froze. Her eyes were filled with unadulterated hatred and disgust. 2 Memories fade quickly for teenagers. I soon forgot that incident and continued to pursue Lara. For her, I even started studying hard, getting into the same university as her. My father was ecstatic, doubling my allowance. At university, Lara became even busier. Her scholarship application fell through, and the poverty aid slot was snatched by a classmate with connections. At her worst, she could only afford a single bun from the cafeteria each day, filling up on free soup. I couldn’t bear it, so I offered to help her financially, but she refused. She worked three jobs a day, eventually collapsing from exhaustion on the street. That’s when I lost my patience, dragging her and insisting she take the money. “Lara, why won’t you take my money? What are you trying to achieve by working yourself to death?!” I went to her dean and forcibly paid her tuition. By then, I had matured a little, understanding the need to respect her pride. So, I’d always pull her to eat with me, claiming I couldn’t finish my food and asking her to share. When we went out, I’d pretend to have scored free tickets, bringing her along. Slowly, my relationship with Lara seemed to grow closer. I continued to support her until she graduated, and to make her happy, I even helped her childhood friend, Luke. After graduation, Lara started her own business. Her academic record was stellar; she and a friend had developed a stock-trading software model while in college, but they hit dead ends everywhere, unable to secure any investment. Seeing her so down, I simply asked my father to invest in her. I remember Lara was very quiet that night. As I held her, almost drifting off to sleep, she suddenly spoke. “Ian, why are you doing this?” At the time, I thought she was going to say, why are you being so good to me, so I complacently replied: “Because I love you.” “Lara, do you love me?” I held her hand. “I’ve been so good to you, if you still don’t want to be with me, you’re completely heartless!” Back then, I was only joking. But Lara didn’t say anything, and I assumed she was agreeing. That’s how we got together. Two years later, Lara and I got married. The wedding was a quick affair. Lara said she didn’t like too many people, so we only invited a few close relatives and friends. All of them were mine. From her side, there was only her. After the wedding, Lara remained distant. I was so incredibly foolish then; I thought it was just her nature. I’d pursued her for so many years, surely if I kept being good to her, even a heart of stone would eventually warm. But I never imagined her heart was truly unyielding. Because her heart, from beginning to end, belonged to someone else. In the third year of our marriage, our conflicts became irreconcilable. I couldn’t tolerate her day-in, day-out coldness anymore. I accused her of being in love with her childhood friend. She just looked at me with cold eyes, saying nothing. When I pushed her too far, she would simply storm out. Her silent treatment drove me to become increasingly obsessive and frantic. When she returned, I’d interrogate her, curse at her. During our most intense arguments, I’d blurt out hurtful things: “I wish I’d known you were such an ungrateful wretch! I might as well have adopted a dog; at least it would wag its tail at me!” For a fleeting moment, anger flashed across her face, then she quickly regained her composure. After that day, she stopped coming home altogether. Later, I discovered she had already been with her childhood friend. They had built a new life together outside our home, and even… She was pregnant with his child. All those years, she lived a complete and happy life with him. While I guarded an empty house alone, my heart full of love curdling into a poisonous, hateful brew. Lara’s business flourished, and she became wealthier than my own father. There was nothing I could use to get back at her. The only thing I had left was our marriage. I gambled my own life to spite her. I refused to divorce her, no matter how much money she offered. She had ruined me, and I wouldn’t let her off easy. The man she loved would forever be a clandestine affair. Her child with him would always be a bastard, born in the shadows. Lara didn’t dare sue me for divorce. She feared that a public marital dispute would impact her company’s stock value, and her board of directors would never allow it. And so, she and I dragged out this charade for ten years. For ten years, no matter how hysterical, how frantic I became, eventually even resorting to pleading… she never softened. She never once came back to see me. In this daily despair, I grew thinner and thinner, falling gravely ill. Finally, I withered away. 3 “Ian?” I snapped back to reality, looking at Lara beside me. A profound hatred surged through every fiber of my being. My heart felt as if it would burst, and for a moment, I almost couldn’t stand. After I died, she finally got what she wanted, didn’t she? Perhaps, the way she treated me was always meant to torment me to death faster. I remembered my medication being suddenly swapped before I died. When I asked the butler, he merely said it was a milder kind. I didn’t suspect a thing. Yet, shortly after taking this new medicine, my health rapidly deteriorated until I couldn’t even sit up. Not long after, I died. It was her, wasn’t it? Who else could it be? Hating me so much, wanting me dead so quickly. She wanted to marry Luke. How utterly venomous. I looked at Lara, forcefully suppressing the urge to rush forward and kill her. I hated her so much! I believed that aside from being a naive idiot when I was younger and not sensitive enough to her pride, I had done nothing to wrong Lara. I hadn’t even forced her into marriage. I’d even asked if she was willing, and if not, I could wait. Yet, she hated me so profoundly. Luke, just like in the past, was yelling at me, “Ian, do you think money makes you important? How dare you insult people like this!” “Take your filthy money and get lost!” I looked at him. Luke was actually quite handsome, though his worn-out tracksuit made him look a bit shabby. He was staring at me, his expression agitated. This was the man Lara loved, the one she would kill for. It was the same in my past life. Lara and I were talking calmly; I was telling her that if she felt uncomfortable, she could pay me back for her tuition later, treating it as a loan. But then Luke suddenly accused me of throwing money around, saying I was insulting Lara. It was only through later arguments with Lara that I slowly understood. She had always felt I was using money to demean and humiliate her. Suddenly, I found it all so laughable. Seeing Luke’s protective stance, I curled my lips into a smile. “You’re overthinking it.” “I’d rather burn this money than use it to help you.” Lara’s face blanched. 4 Luke’s expression went blank for a moment. “…What did you say?” I smiled. “Don’t you think me helping you is insulting? As classmates, how could I insult you like that? In that case, forget it. You two can just keep working odd jobs.” Luke’s family situation was similar to Lara’s; his father owed debts and ran off with money, and his mother worked herself sick to put him through school, now confined to bed. Perhaps because of their similar circumstances, he and Lara had always been close, always hovering around her. He always liked to tag along whenever Lara and I went out. Sometimes I’d object, and he’d question me in front of Lara. “Ian, are you looking down on me because I’m poor? Don’t you want to be friends with me?” Before I could reply, Lara would link her arm through his and say in a flat voice, “If you think we’re not good enough, then don’t go.” I’d have no choice but to bring him along. At dinner, he’d stare at the lobster on the plate and say, “Do you eat such fancy food every day?” “We really aren’t from the same world.” There were several times when Lara and I were having a good conversation, and he’d suddenly interject with a remark like that. Lara’s smile would vanish, and she’d stop talking to me. At first, I thought he was just thoughtless. It wasn’t until one time when Lara and I were walking together, and I turned around to say something to him, that I caught his gaze. Luke’s face was expressionless, his eyes filled with a murky malevolence and resentment. When he saw me turn, he was startled, quickly forcing a smile. But all I felt was a chill down my spine. That’s when it dawned on me. He hated me. Or rather, he resented me. Actually, when Lara and I first got married, there was a brief period of harmony. Her company was on track then, having secured its first big contract. After the celebration dinner, she drunkenly hugged me, laughing and saying, “Honey, what do you like? Your wife will buy it for you.” I felt for her, knowing how hard she worked for her money, and held her, utterly content. “No need, your company is just starting, it’s where the money should go. Your thoughtfulness is enough for me.” But she wouldn’t let go, clinging to my neck, whining playfully, “A wife’s money is for her husband! I’ll buy you a car, what kind do you want?!” Even as she fell asleep, she was still mumbling. “Ian, I have money now.” “You don’t have to compromise for me or suffer with me anymore.” Sure enough, the next day she bought me a car. But before I could even say anything, Luke showed up. He looked at the car keys in my hand, and his expression suddenly turned odd. Then, he snatched the keys from me, smiling at Lara. “Oh, I remember Ian already had this car when he was in college. One of his friends gave it to him, right?” “He even complained it was too cheap to drive.” Honestly, I’d long forgotten if that was true. But Lara’s expression immediately soured. Then she took the car keys and left, her face unreadable. After that, she grew cold towards me again. And the next time I saw that car, Luke was driving it. He curved his lips into a smile, feigning indifference. “Ian, Lara gave me this car. You’re not angry, are you?” Of course, I refused, demanding he give the car back to me. A flicker of resentment crossed his face, and he loudly asked, “You have so many cars already, why do you have to fight me for this one?!” “You have so many, and I only have this one!” Lara, her face dark, pulled me away. “Let go! If you don’t care about it, why fight him for it? Or is it that you just like to fight for things?!” I was young and proud back then, and I couldn’t stand that kind of humiliation. We had a huge fight and parted ways angrily. Only later did I understand. Luke wasn’t talking about the car at all. He was clearly talking about Lara. He felt I had stolen her, which was why he hated me so much. 5 “Ian,” Lara, regaining her composure, frantically grabbed my arm. “Wait!” I turned back, but seeing her expression, I froze for a moment. Her eyes were a swirling vortex of emotions, as if something was about to break free and erupt! Even her voice trembled slightly. “No, this isn’t right!” “Ian, why aren’t you helping me anymore? Don’t you like me very much?!” Her frantic outburst startled me. What was wrong with Lara? Had she gone crazy? Or was she upset about my tone with Luke? But in my past life, at this point, I hadn’t even won her over yet, and she was always utterly cold and unsmiling towards me. Was she having some kind of episode? I tried to shake her off. “Let go!” She clung on even tighter, her eyes starting to redden. “Ian, don’t you like me anymore?” “Don’t you want me anymore?!” Now I was truly unnerved. When had Lara ever said something like that to me? I stared, wide-eyed. “Lara, what the hell is wrong with you? Did you take the wrong meds or are you possessed?!” But she said nothing, just stared at me unblinkingly, her expression fanatically obsessive. My temper flared. How dare she stare at me like that after everything she did to me in my past life?! “Didn’t you think me helping you was humiliating? Lara, or are you just shamelessly waiting for me to beg you, taking advantage of my kindness?!” Luke’s mouth hung open, as if he hadn’t expected me to speak to Lara like that. Indeed, in my past life, at this very moment, I was at my most infatuated with her. Every word I spoke was carefully chosen, fearing I might wound her pride. But now, I didn’t care anymore! “Lara, what kind of person are you?!” I sneered. Heartless, ungrateful. I truly wondered how I could have fallen for someone like that. Lara, however, wasn’t angry. The color simply drained from her face, leaving it pale. I roughly pushed her hand away and walked off without looking back.

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