Category: English

I once had a secret, hidden relationship with Roman Pierce. He paid for my tuition, and I slept in his bed. Later, he told me he was at the age where he wanted to get married and have kids. So, I unilaterally ended things. Years later, we met again. I was accompanying my academic advisor to pitch him for a research investment. After a few too many drinks, I pinched his face and drunkenly ran my mouth: “I have money now. Here’s two thousand bucks. Let me top you just once!” Everyone else froze in sheer panic, scrambling to explain: “Mr. Pierce, he’s just wasted and talking nonsense! He really doesn’t like men!” “Yeah, exactly! My senior colleague here has a girlfriend. They’re super serious.” He just stared at me, a smirk playing on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh, really?” 1 Professor Miller had dragged us out to another networking dinner. All the way there, he wouldn’t stop nagging us: “You kids, when I tell you to drink, you drink. When I tell you to talk, you talk. Stay sharp, all of you.” A couple of the younger grad students grumbled quietly: “We’re researchers, not escorts…” Word on the street was that tonight’s investor didn’t have much of a formal education. Apparently, he’d made his fortune scraping by in the gritty underworld years ago before hitting it big. The self-made, uncultured tycoons were always the worst at these dinner tables. We academics absolutely dreaded this part of the job. “Do you think I enjoy throwing away my dignity?” Professor Miller snapped. “Our research grants are gone. How am I supposed to support you guys? If we don’t land this investment, I’ll have no choice but to cut your stipends and send you back to basic lab work.” The van went dead silent. Everyone knew Miller wasn’t having it easy either. With the funding pulled, he was more desperate than anyone. We arrived at the private dining room. Soon, the heavy door was pushed open. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Professor Miller.” A deep, low baritone cut through the air. It immediately sparked whispers among the junior researchers: “I thought they said he was some uncultured thug? How is he this young and hot?” “God, his aura is insane…” I lifted my head, completely dazed. Five years. It was an encounter I was wholly unprepared for. Roman Pierce had changed significantly. He’d shed the jagged, reckless edge of his youth, dressed now in a perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit. Yet, the untamed wildness between his brows remained, only now it was tempered, making him seem heavier, more formidable. My advisor scrambled to his feet: “Mr. Pierce! A pleasure, truly a pleasure. These are my brightest doctoral candidates.” Roman offered a curt nod and took the seat of honor at the head of the table. His gaze swept coldly over us. Miller shot us a look, and we all stood up to toast him. The female grad students who had been complaining moments ago were now practically tripping over themselves: “Mr. Pierce, a toast to you. It’s inspiring to see someone so young achieve so much.” “Mr. Pierce, we are really looking forward to working with you.” I shrank back into the corner, lowering my head as far as it would go. “Mr. Pierce, this is Asher Blake, my star PhD student,” Miller announced, calling me out specifically. “Asher, don’t just stand there. Come toast Mr. Pierce.” I stood up rigidly. I picked up my glass, not daring to meet his eyes. “Good evening, Mr. Pierce.” He just sat there. He didn’t raise his glass. He just watched me in silence. Advisor Miller tried to smooth over the awkwardness: “This one is a bit of a wallflower. Usually just buries his head in his textbooks. Not much of a talker.” Roman’s gaze landed on my face, slowly tracing my features inch by inch. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his tone measured and slow: “Loving to study… is a good thing.” Miller quickly seized the opening: “Absolutely! Asher has been with me since his undergrad years. His capability is unquestionable. To be honest with you, Mr. Pierce, our project data is incredibly promising, it’s just the capital…” He shot me a pointed look. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to look up and meet his stare: “Mr. Pierce, our data is solid, and the market applications are broad. If you are willing to invest…” He let out a short scoff, cutting me off instantly: “Mr. Blake, I am a businessman. I only care about a beneficial exchange of interests.” The phrase “exchange of interests” pierced through me like a knife. Right. An exchange of interests. In the past, he gave me money, and I slept with him. Now, I had an education, but I still had to beg him for money. 2 When I was eighteen, my dad racked up a mountain of gambling debt and ran away, leaving me behind. The debt collectors smashed our house to pieces. I lived like a stray dog, hiding out wherever I could. After school, I didn’t dare go home. I barely had any money left in my pockets. There was a cybercafe near my high school where an overnight pass cost twenty bucks. The owner looked like a gang leader—a shock of bleached blond hair and sleeves full of tattoos. That place was a haven for delinquents, reeking of cheap smoke and clicking keyboards. I stood at the door, hesitating for a long time before I dared to walk in. “I… I want an overnight pass.” He looked up. He had high brow bones and narrow, sharp eyes. “You an adult?” He radiated a dangerous energy that terrified me. I frantically pulled out my ID. Thank God. I had just turned eighteen last month. The cybercafe had small private booths with a computer and a tiny, narrow sofa. I put my backpack down, read my textbooks, and did practice tests. When I got hungry, I gnawed on half a cold bagel I had saved from lunch. When I got tired, I curled up on that tiny sofa. It was hard, and it got freezing at night. But it was the cheapest place I could find. At least no one was coming in the middle of the night to smash windows or throw red paint. For the next few days, I went straight there after school. Finally, the umpteenth time I handed over my ID, Roman looked up, visibly annoyed: “You’re a student. Shouldn’t you be studying? Why the hell are you always at an internet cafe?” I opened my mouth, then lowered my head and muttered: “None of your business…” He cursed under his breath and ignored me. Until one late night, a drunk guy in the booth next to mine kicked my door open. “You little brat, hiding out here?!” “If you can’t pay back the cash, that’s fine. I know some guys who’d love a pretty boy like you. Come on, I’ll find you a way out!” I struggled frantically to get away. He kicked me to the ground, raising his fist: “Don’t be a ungrateful little bitch! You want me to kill you?” Hearing the commotion, Roman stormed over, grabbed the guy by the collar, and threw him out the front door. He kicked the guy viciously while he was down: “You dare start shit in my territory? You got a death wish?” He hit hard. The guy didn’t stop wailing. When Roman came back inside, his anger hadn’t faded. He glared at me: “If you’re not playing games, why the fuck are you practically living here?” “I… I’m surfing the web…” “Your monitor is turned off! What web are you surfing?!” He impatiently tried to kick me out. “Hurry up and go home! This ain’t a place for a good student like you!” I refused to move. After a long silence, I whispered: “I… I don’t have a home.” He scratched his head in frustration, grabbed my backpack, and said: “Follow me.” Behind the cybercafe was a rundown one-bedroom apartment. It was a mess. Clothes piled on the sofa, empty beer cans on the coffee table. He pointed to the room. “Here. Ten bucks a night. You staying or not?” I had no other choice, and no energy to worry about whether it was safe. “I’m staying.” He tossed me a spare key, turned around, and left. 3 Roman was rarely home. Sometimes he was at the cafe, sometimes God knows where running the streets. I went straight there every day after school. I’d buy an extra plain roll from the cafeteria at noon to eat for dinner. On the fifth day of living there, I was gnawing on my cold roll when he pushed the door open. “Move,” he grunted, frowning. I clutched my bread and automatically scooted over on the sofa. He dropped a massive bag of takeout BBQ on the table and started eating. The smell of roasted meat filled the room. I chewed my dry roll, secretly swallowing my saliva. He glanced at me: “You want some?” I asked cautiously: “Does it cost extra?” He suddenly laughed. “If you eat, you’re on cleanup duty.” To me back then, those few skewers of meat were absolute salvation. After that, he started coming home a bit more often, and he’d always bring food. Sometimes BBQ, sometimes lo mein, sometimes hot soup. It smelled so incredible that, years later, I still remember exactly how it tasted. He would watch me wolf down the food and laugh: “Asher, you got a massive appetite, don’t you?” Honestly, I was just starving. I skipped breakfast, ate the cheapest thing for lunch, and had a cold roll for dinner. Whatever he brought back was the only real meal I had all day. After eating, I’d lean against the sofa and study. He’d play video games next to me, occasionally lighting a cigarette when he got bored. I habitually stayed up late studying. When he checked the time, he’d bark at me: “Asher, roll into bed and go to sleep.” I’d mumble an “okay” and slowly get up. I couldn’t help but warn him: “Roman, smoking is bad for your health.” He didn’t care. “Life and death are up to fate. Riches are up to heaven.” I cautiously tested the waters: “Can I try a drag?” His eyes turned lethal: “You want me to break your legs?” I slept in the bedroom; he usually crashed on the sofa after gaming. The sofa was small. He was tall, and he couldn’t even stretch his legs out. “Roman, why don’t you sleep in the bed?” He shot me a look, a half-smile forming. “What, two grown men cuddling up together?” I felt embarrassed. The bed was narrow. Two guys would definitely be cramped. But Roman was the type who could pull the covers over his head and fall asleep instantly. I never thought I’d cross paths with someone like him. He was so fierce. He fought brutally. Even the high school bullies were terrified of his name. And me, the teachers’ pet, somehow ended up sharing a weird, harmonious life with this gang boss in a rundown apartment. Eventually, I completely ran out of money. “Roman, the rent… can I pay you after I graduate college?” He raised an eyebrow. “Can you do laundry, cook, and clean? Work off your debt.” From then on, I took over all the chores. He even started paying me a “salary.” Thanks to that money, I could finally afford full meals at school. The days I lived there became the most secure time of my life. He had a lot of friends, guys and girls. One guy saw the spotless apartment and gasped: “Boss, why is your place so clean? You hiding a sugar baby in here? If Stella finds out, she’ll cry herself to death.” I had seen this “Stella.” Tall, glamorous, stunning figure. Word was she’d been chasing Roman for a long time. One day, she stood at the door with red eyes, screaming: “Tell that little vixen to come out here! I want to see what she looks like!” Roman casually grabbed me by the collar and dragged me to the door. “Take a look.” The group of friends stood frozen. “Holy shit! You got a boyfriend?!” Roman leaned against the doorframe, arrogant as ever: “I like men. Stop wasting your time on me, Stella.” Stella’s heart shattered completely. I followed him back inside, hesitating for a long time. I wanted to ask if he really liked men, or if it was just an excuse to reject her. But I couldn’t get the words out. For some reason, my heart wouldn’t calm down. Why did I even care who he liked? He stared at me, frowning: “What is it?” “Just… what are we having for dinner?” He let out a laugh, tossing a bag of walnuts at me. “Eat these. Heard they’re good for the brain. Perfect for you.” That day, he proudly showed off how he could crush walnuts with his bare hands. “Cool, right?” Honestly, a little dumb. Of course, I didn’t dare say that out loud. I asked him: “Roman, why’d you dye your hair blond?” He got defensive: “What do you mean blond? It’s gold!” Me: “Oh, so like a golden retriever…” “Are you calling me a dog?!” He shot me a warning glare: “Asher, you got a death wish today?” But this time, I wasn’t scared. Spending so much time with him, I realized he was all bark and no bite with me. One day, I carefully told him: “Roman, I want to apply to the State Tech University. It’s in the suburbs, I’d just have to take two buses to get there.” He shoved a handful of crushed walnuts into my mouth: “You think a top-tier university is that easy to get into? Better eat up and fix that wooden brain of yours.” 4 But right before my final college entrance exams, a few debt collectors ambushed me. They snatched my exam admission ticket. “Call your deadbeat dad and tell him to pay up. Otherwise, I’m burning this right now.” “Heard you get good grades, huh? Too bad. Say goodbye to college.” I frantically called my dad, but the line was dead. In pure desperation, I called Roman. He rushed over, out of breath. He just asked coldly: “How much does he owe you?” They said, “Thirty grand.” He turned around and left. Not long after, he came back carrying a bag of cash. The moment he reached his hand out to me, my nose stung. He gripped my wrist tightly, pulling me out of that dark alley. Walking behind him, I wiped away pathetic tears. He turned around and glared at me fiercely: “You’re a grown man, why are you crying? So annoying.” During the two days of my exams, he canceled all his business and waited outside the testing center. The night I finished my last test, after dinner, I gathered all my courage and hugged him from behind. “Roman, you… you can sleep in the bed tonight.” His body went completely rigid. “What do you mean by that?” “I heard you like men…” “And I can’t afford to pay you back…” Honestly, with every day that the exams had approached, my anxiety grew. Once I graduated high school, I’d have no excuse to stay here. But I stubbornly wanted to be tied to him. He used thirty thousand dollars to sever the ties between me and my toxic family. But it also made the dynamic between him and me completely unequal. 5 Five years later, our positions hadn’t changed at all. Back then, I needed money for school. Now, I needed money for research. He sat at the head of the table, watching impassively as I toasted him glass after glass. But he refused to give a straight answer: “I’ll need more time to evaluate this project.” What a ruthless capitalist face. I cursed him out in my head. By the end of the night, the alcohol had gone straight to my brain. My mind was buzzing. I looked at a face that looked remarkably like Roman’s, and lunged forward, hugging him. I even reached up, pinching his cheeks left and right, inspecting him: “Hmm, you look just like him…” “I make three thousand bucks a month now! I’ll give you two grand, you just have to sleep with me once, okay?” “And this time, I get to top!” As those words dropped, the entire room went dead silent. Professor Miller turned pale with absolute horror: “Mr. Pierce, please excuse him! My student has had too much to drink, he’s just spouting nonsense!” Roman held his wine glass, staring at me with a dangerous amusement. “Student Blake is only offering me two thousand?” I grabbed his tie, arguing my case aggressively: “What’s wrong with two grand? You’re old and wrinkly now, you think you can still compete with the young guys?” “Oh? I’m old and wrinkly?” He laughed out of pure anger, his gaze sweeping over me with blatant aggression. “Well, I certainly can’t compare to Student Blake—” “You were always so tight.” “Mr. Pierce, he really is just drunk! He never talks this much normally…” Miller was sweating profusely. A junior female researcher jumped in to save me: “It’s true! Mr. Pierce, please don’t misunderstand, my senior really doesn’t like men…” “He has a girlfriend! They are super stable…” Before she could finish, Roman’s face darkened drastically. The hand gripping my waist suddenly tightened. “Is that right?” I looked at his face, inches from mine. I opened my mouth. “Blergh…” I threw up all over his expensive suit. … 6 The next morning, I was getting chewed out in Professor Miller’s office. “Asher Blake, look at yourself! Usually I can’t get three words out of you with a crowbar, but you get drunk and act like a maniac?! Huh?” “If a girl acts boy-crazy, fine! But you, a grown man, screaming about wanting to top an investor?! I have never heard of such a thing in my life!” “Two grand to sleep with you?! Do you hear yourself? Where are you gonna sleep with him, in your dorm?! Did you consider your roommates?! Are they supposed to stand guard at the door?!” I wished the floor would swallow me whole. “Professor, I… I’m sorry…” “Thank God Mr. Pierce has a good temper. You puked all over him yesterday, and he didn’t even get mad. He even had the decency to have someone drive you home.” Miller caught his breath and issued his final order: “Today, you are coming with me to his company to apologize in person! And your attitude better be sincere!” “Whether this project survives or dies depends entirely on Roman Pierce nodding his head.” On the way to his corporate headquarters, Miller gave me a rundown of Roman’s legendary rise. “Don’t underestimate him just because he doesn’t have a college degree. He’s ruthless and has incredible foresight! A few years ago, he made a killing in real estate, and now he’s pivoting to the tech sector. He’s the new golden boy of the industry…” Five years. He had gone so far, becoming completely unreachable. While I felt trapped in a time loop. Studying, studying, and still broke as a joke. Roman’s company occupied the top floors of a massive CBD skyscraper, overlooking the bustling city. His secretary led us into the reception room. He still had that same cold, aloof demeanor. Miller approached him with a fawning smile: “Mr. Pierce, I am so sorry for the absolute disaster yesterday. My student here… sigh. I brought him here specifically to apologize to you!” He shot me a look. I braced myself and stepped forward, not daring to meet his eyes: “Mr. Pierce, I… I drank too much yesterday. I am so sorry. Please forgive me.” Miller chimed in from the side: “Yes, exactly! Yesterday was the anniversary of his ex-girlfriend’s death! The alcohol and the grief just went straight to his head…” My heart skipped a beat. This old man literally just pulls lies out of thin air. Roman raised an eyebrow, a mocking glint in his eye: “The anniversary of her death? Tell me, Student Blake, how did your ex pass away?” Miller answered for me: “Terminal illness! A tragic terminal illness.” He quickly added, “But don’t worry, Mr. Pierce, Asher has moved on. His mental state is very stable, he definitely won’t delay the research progress!” “Yesterday was purely the alcohol. He absolutely does not have any inappropriate thoughts about you. His sexual orientation is perfectly normal, you can be 100% assured.” To add credibility, Miller added: “He actually has a new girlfriend now.” Roman’s eyes went pitch black: “Is that so?” “Yes, yes, a junior from our university. She chased him for a long time. Everyone in the lab knows, they’re practically glued at the hip.” “Rest assured, he has absolutely no ulterior motives regarding you.” Me: “…” Old Miller gave me a look that said, ‘Look how smart your professor is.’ Roman stayed silent for a moment before saying calmly: “That’s good to hear.” Miller struck while the iron was hot: “Mr. Pierce, about our project…” He paused, seeming to weigh his options: “I am still very interested in the project. However, my company needs to understand some of the finer details… Would it be possible to borrow Student Blake for a few days? To assist us with our evaluation?” Miller’s eyes lit up: “No problem at all! Use him however you need! Asher is the brightest student I’ve ever taught.” Me: “…” Did Old Miller just sell me out that easily? 7 After leaving Roman’s office… “Professor, do I really have to go?” Miller patted my shoulder, lecturing me earnestly: “Asher, this involves the life or death of our entire department! This involves everyone’s stipends and graduation! Can’t you just make a little sacrifice?” “Besides, you’re a grown man, what are you afraid of? How exactly is he gonna ‘use’ you?” “At worst, you’ll just do some extra grunt work and get a little tired.” “I…” How was I supposed to explain the exact ways he could ‘use’ me… Seeing how old Miller was, I didn’t dare give him a heart attack with the truth. Seeing me hesitate, Miller lowered his voice: “I still have a spot open for the international symposium. I’ll save it for you.” “Professor, I’ll go.” For that, I would walk through fire. I braced myself and reported to Roman’s company. “Engineer Blake, please have a seat. Mr. Pierce’s meeting isn’t quite over yet. Just wait a moment.” While waiting, the friendly receptionist started chatting with me. I couldn’t hold back my curiosity, asking quietly: “Hey, how old are the boss’s kids?” The receptionist looked shocked: “Kids? Mr. Pierce doesn’t have kids.” None? “Wait, he didn’t have any?” Back then, he had literally said he wanted to get married and have kids. The receptionist looked at me like I was crazy: “Mr. Pierce isn’t even married.” My heart skipped a beat. He still wasn’t married? A complex mix of secret joy and bitter sorrow welled up inside me. After processing it for a few seconds, I muttered under my breath: “Oh, so nobody wanted him…” The second the words left my mouth. “Asher.” A clearly displeased voice sounded right behind me. I jumped out of my skin. I’m dead… Why did he have to hear that exactly? 8 I followed Roman to his office. My mind was still echoing with the phrase, “Isn’t even married.” During my junior year of college, he had calmly informed me: “Asher, let’s just end this.” I blankly asked him why. He just said: “I’m at the age where I need to get married. You think I can just mess around with a guy forever?” I cried and begged him: “Just… wait for me one more year. I’ll graduate…” He sneered. “Wait for what? Can you give me a child?” “Asher, stop making yourself look so cheap.” It was true. I had always been cheap, throwing myself at him. Starting from when I was eighteen, when I willingly threw my arms around him. Back then, he had tried to push me away: “Asher, you should live a normal life.” “Don’t get mixed up with someone like me. There’s no future here.” I had cried pathetically: “Roman, you’re a good person…” He laughed like it was a joke: “Are you brain-damaged? I have no money, no education, I’m years older than you. You’re throwing yourself at me over thirty grand?” “With your face, who knows how many girls will be chasing you later. Don’t ruin your own path.” I stubbornly clung to him, refusing to let go: “Roman, I… I don’t even know if I like men or women…” “I just know that I like you.” He fell silent. I stood on my tiptoes, clumsily trying to kiss him. But he was too tall, and even with my head tilted back, I could only graze his jawline. He stared at me, then suddenly laughed. He tilted his head down and kissed me fiercely: “If I don’t lower my head, how are you ever gonna reach?” That day, in that tiny apartment, we tangled in the sheets from the afternoon until the sun went down. His sweat dripped onto my neck. In that endless tidal wave, I was nervous and clumsy, but a secret joy bloomed in my heart. I spent almost that entire summer break in his tiny apartment. After taking the money, my mom had vanished to God knows where. Roman sold his internet cafe. When I asked why, he just said: “Don’t worry about it. Off to make big money.” He became incredibly busy, coming home near dawn every day, often covered in fresh bruises. When I applied ointment to his wounds, my heart ached: “Roman, why are you always getting hurt? Can’t you quit that job?” Though he never said it, I knew he was working as muscle at a shady nightclub. He brushed it off: “You call these scratches injuries?” When I kept sulking, he would just shut me up with a kiss. That summer, we loved each other desperately on that tiny bed, as if trying to exhaust all our energy. Before college started, he took me to the mall. With a wave of his hand, he bought me a new iPhone, a laptop, and a whole new wardrobe. We even went to see the ocean together. The salty sea breeze, the circling seagulls, the endless expanse of blue. It was my first time seeing the ocean. I was so excited I took countless photos. I secretly set a photo of us together as my phone’s lock screen. But when he saw it, he frowned: “Change it.” I froze. He didn’t want anyone to know about our relationship. I silently lowered my head, fighting the sting in my nose, and deleted the photo. He handed me a debit card. “Just focus on your studies from now on. Don’t keep running back here. I don’t have time to see you.”

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To keep myself fed, I posted a thread online: [Private Investigator. Can provide all kinds of tracking services. Price: Just 10 bags of cookies.] Soon, I received my very first order as a cockroach. A girl contacted me, wanting me to secretly investigate her boyfriend. I replied enthusiastically: [Rest assured, client. My tracking skills are top-notch.] The other side seemed a bit worried: [He has a lot of social events outside of work. You’d better get a few more people to tail him.] [Don’t worry, I’ll bring my sisters along to track him.] [Oh? How many sisters are you bringing?] [A hundred and thirty thousand!] 1 The apartment was covered in dust. I had been crawling up and down for half a month and still hadn’t found a single bite to eat. Roach Bro Two was lying flat inside an empty cracker tin. He said weakly: “Stop wasting your energy. No one lives in this apartment. There’s not going to be any food.” “We’re all going to starve to death eventually.” “Oh, mama, I’ve only been alive for two weeks. I really don’t want to die.” I rolled my eyes at him. When other people die, they turn into cats or dogs. Me? I turned into a cockroach. And a cockroach on the verge of starving to death, at that. I sighed at the ceiling. Even turning into a slightly larger bug would have been fine! At least then I wouldn’t have lost so miserably in a fight with that spider in the corner last night. I had forgotten how I died. All I knew was that I was living in a small, unoccupied studio apartment. Hiding in the dark during the day, and hiding in the darker dark at night. In this empty apartment, the only thing left was a smartphone plugged into a charger. In an apartment with no water or electricity shut off, the phone’s battery remained fully charged. Even though I forgot the circumstances of my death. The instinct to hustle and grind for money… That was carved into my very soul. The other cockroaches affectionately called me “Hustle Roach.” I crawled back and forth on the phone a few times. With a tap of my antennae, I successfully traced the unlock pattern. The phone glowed faintly in the darkness. I logged onto Reddit. I rubbed my antennae hard, and a spark of genius hit my tiny, rice-grain-sized brain. I could earn food through the internet! As a top-tier hustler, even if I turned into a cockroach, I still had to work hard to earn my keep, right? Poke, poke, poke went my antennae on the screen. I published a post on a local subreddit: [Private Investigator. Can provide all kinds of tracking services. Price: Just 10 bags of cookies.] Half an hour later, the phone chimed. My first business deal had arrived! 2 I was so excited my antennae were dancing. They flew across the phone screen, a blur of motion. [Throwaway123: Hi, I just met my boyfriend two months ago, but I always feel like he’s hiding something from me. Could you secretly investigate him for me?] [InnocentMamaRoach: No problem! Leave it to me. My tracking skills are top-notch.] [Throwaway123: But… he has a lot of social events, and his social circle is complicated. You’d better get a few more people to tail him.] [InnocentMamaRoach: Don’t worry, I’ll bring my sisters along to track him.] [Throwaway123: Oh? How many sisters are you bringing?] [InnocentMamaRoach: We’ll start with 130,000. If that’s not enough, I’ll call for backup.] The other side went silent. After a long while, a message popped up: [Throwaway123: Bringing that many people… it must be really expensive, right? I… I don’t have much money on me…] [InnocentMamaRoach: It’s not expensive. The price is just ten bags of cookies. Chocolate and strawberry flavors are preferred.] [Throwaway123: That cheap? Thank you so much! How should I address you?] [InnocentMamaRoach: My last name is Roach.] [Throwaway123: ??] [InnocentMamaRoach: Sorry, typo. My last name is Rose.] End of chat. Even though Roach Bro Two was dizzy with hunger, he still wobbled out of the cracker tin. Full of energy: “Let’s go now while it’s the middle of the night! The sooner we finish the investigation for the client, the sooner we get the cookies.” “I’m a roach with refined tastes. I only eat fresh food. I absolutely refuse to look at anything from the garbage can.” A group of cockroaches nodded in agreement. They looked at me with hopeful eyes. Throwaway123 had sent over the address and a photo of the guy. The guy in the photo looked familiar. But I couldn’t remember where I had seen him before. I shook my head. I quickly rallied the troops: “There’s a hole in the window over there. Don’t panic, everyone, crawl out one by one. Tonight, we’re pulling off a big heist!” 3 The man in front of me was currently drinking and boasting with his friends. A massive pile of empty beer bottles covered the table. I squinted, carefully recalling the photo Throwaway123 had given me. I confirmed the man in front of me, Mark Sullivan, was her boyfriend. The room reeked of alcohol. It was a sweltering summer night, and a few shirtless men were flattering him: “Mark, you’re the man! Just a few sweet words and you coaxed your girlfriend into marrying you.” “I wonder how much the engagement ring is going to cost?” Mark downed a glass of beer. A greasy look of triumph spread across his face. “Pfft, what engagement ring? Tomorrow I’ll call her out, and once we sleep together and I get her pregnant, she’ll have to marry me whether she wants to or not.” “By then, not only do I save money on the ring, but I’ll also have someone to pay off my hundred grand gambling debt.” Someone asked doubtfully: “What if she doesn’t agree?” “We’re already officially dating, why wouldn’t she agree? If she doesn’t, I’ll just force it. We’re boyfriend and girlfriend anyway, it’s perfectly natural for that to happen.” “Even if she posts about it online, the bros will still support me.” A second round of flattery erupted. No one noticed the balcony. Roach Bro Two was directing a few large cockroaches carrying a voice recorder. They were crawling inside, panting heavily. “A little to the left… right, right… carefully, everyone. Boss Roach said this thing is super expensive.” I had found this voice recorder in the empty apartment. It was fully charged. I used all my strength to press the record button. It started recording normally. Roach Bro Two looked at me with admiration: “Boss Roach, the first time I saw you, I knew you were different from the other roaches.” “How did you learn to use this high-tech human stuff?” I pinched his mouth shut hard with my antennae: “Shut up and focus on the recording.” “This is the first order we got online. We absolutely cannot mess this up!” The voice recorder was dropped in an inconspicuous corner of the living room. A glowing red light indicated it was working hard. Mark was clearly drunk. The more he talked, the more excited he got. “Once she has the kid, I’ve got to set some strict rules for her. Let me tell you guys, right after a woman has a baby is the best time to train her to be obedient.” “…” The voice recorder worked continuously until the early hours of the morning. After the men in the room had all passed out drunk. Roach Bro Two first crawled onto the dining table, casting a disgusted glance at the leftover food. Then he complained to me: “This stuff is gross. I still think snacks taste the best.” The other cockroaches nodded in agreement. Hopeful eyes all turned towards me. The voice recorder was carried away. I patted my chest with my antennae, guaranteeing: “Don’t worry, once we finish this job, we’ll have cookies to eat immediately.” That night, after I crawled back to our place. I immediately opened the phone and sent all the recordings to Throwaway123. 4 Throwaway123 cried all night. Early the next morning, she sent me a message. [Throwaway123: Rose, thank you for letting me see his true colors. I just broke up with him. By the way, I bought the cookies you wanted. Where should I send them?] [InnocentMamaRoach: Riverside Apartments, Unit 1, Apt 405. Just leave them at the door. Remember to tear open all the packaging.] The packaging nowadays is made too tough. My teeth couldn’t bite through it at all. Around noon. Footsteps sounded at the door. A young woman appeared at the door and knocked gently. Roach Bro Two was so scared he hid back in the empty cracker tin. She knocked on the door for a long time. There was no sound from inside. From the door came the rustling sound of packaging being torn open. Then, the footsteps faded away. Everyone cheered excitedly. They all crawled to the door, working hard to carry the cookies inside the apartment. Roach Bro Two was working especially hard. Finally, he took a huge bite of a strawberry-flavored Oreo. His two antennae stood straight up, as if he’d been electrocuted. “This is the exact flavor! It’s so authentic!” I also nibbled on a cookie. It was so good I squinted my eyes. But after eating my fill, I started to worry again. I was clearly a human, how did I turn into a cockroach? More importantly, how could I change back? I thought about this problem all afternoon but couldn’t figure it out. Around dusk, the phone chimed. I crawled over and unlocked it. It was a message from Throwaway123. But the tone didn’t sound like her at all. [Throwaway123: Motherf***er, you’re the one who stirred the pot and made my girlfriend break up with me, aren’t you? I hate you nosy best friends causing trouble behind my back! Good thing I remembered her Reddit password, otherwise I wouldn’t have found you! I’ve already memorized your address, you just wait for me tonight!] Roach Bro Two couldn’t read. He burped and crawled next to me. “Boss Roach, do we have another order? This time I want to try mango-flavored cookies.” “It’s an enemy coming to seek revenge.” “Huh? Is it the cat next door or that dead rat in the sewer?” “It’s a human.” As soon as I finished speaking. Violent pounding sounded on the door outside. 5 BAM! CRASH! It shook so hard my two antennae trembled. Even Spider Bro, who had been lying motionless in the corner all day, started cursing: “What the hell are you knocking for?! The web I worked so hard to spin just broke in several places.” “Piss me off, and I’ll crawl on his face tonight and spin a web right there.” Roach Bro Two let out another burp: “Should have said so earlier! What’s there to be afraid of with humans? Obviously, they are more afraid of us.” Inside the cabinets, countless cockroaches poked their little heads out. Listening in confusion to the commotion outside. Mark’s furious voice rang out from outside the door: “Open the door! I know you’re in there!” “Won’t open it, huh? I have my ways of getting in!” The sound of a power drill started up. To break down the door, Mark actually brought a power drill. The noise was deafening, making my ears ring. Spider Bro fell from the corner to the floor. Roach Bro Two covered his ears with his antennae: “Boss Roach, what do we do?” Tens of thousands of heads popped out from the corners, waiting for my command. I called out: “When the door opens, everyone fly right at his face.” Tens of thousands of cockroaches nodded in unison. I also gave my wings a shake. I’m a proud Southern cockroach. I can crawl and I can fly, and I’m much bigger and stronger than those tiny Northern ones. The door lock was finally drilled through. Mark kicked the door open. He stood in the darkness, looking like a demon. I furrowed my brow and yelled: “Everyone, get ready—” Mark reached out to feel for the light switch in the entryway. While yelling: “Dead bitch, get the hell out here!” 6 Overwhelming. Airtight. Tens of thousands of cockroaches flapped their tiny wings, crashing into Mark’s face as if their lives depended on it. The arrogance on Mark’s face instantly turned into terror. His throat felt like it was stuffed with a wad of wet cotton. His mouth was wide open. But he couldn’t let out a single word. It wasn’t until the brave leader, Roach Bro Two, landed squarely on the tip of his nose. They made eye contact. Behind Roach Bro Two, there were tens of thousands more eyes. Mark couldn’t hold it in any longer. A blood-curdling scream pierced the quiet night sky. He stumbled and rushed out the door. He tumbled down the stairs. And broke a leg on the spot. Roach Bro Two proudly straightened his antennae: “What did I tell you? Clearly, humans are more afraid of us.” Behind him, the swarm of cockroaches also followed suit, giving their antennae a shake. In the stairwell. Dragging his broken leg, Mark desperately shrank into a corner. While continuously swatting at the cockroaches crawling on his body, his voice practically broke: “Get off! Get off me!” “Ah! Help!” Cockroaches fell to the floor in droves. But a fresh batch of cockroaches continued to crawl on him. There were even a few cockroaches that got crushed by his flailing. And from their bellies crawled out a bunch of even tinier cockroaches. In the end. Dragging his broken leg, Mark limped away and escaped this apartment building. The phone on the table rang. It was sent by my first client, Sarah. [Throwaway123: Rose, Mark logged into my Reddit account, is he going to go cause trouble for you?] [InnocentMamaRoach: He already came by, just escaped dragging a broken leg.] [Throwaway123: ? Wow, Rose, you are so badass!] [InnocentMamaRoach: Thanks for the compliment. If you have any future tracking missions, remember to find me again! Great quality, low prices, and you don’t have to worry about my personal safety.] The cookies Throwaway123 brought were enough for us to eat for a month. Just as I was eager to continue sending messages online to take a second order. Sarah contacted me anxiously again.

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During the annual company meeting, a new intern publicly accused me of embezzling company funds. The entire office stared at me in absolute shock. Flashing a financial statement on the big screen, the intern smirked triumphantly. “The CEO transferred $30,000 to you for office bonuses, yet you only gave us $200 gift cards each?” “There are only forty of us. As the CFO, you pocketed nearly $22,000 for yourself! If you don’t pay this back right now, I’m calling the cops!” The CEO sighed, leaning back in his chair, while my other colleagues remained silent. They all knew something the intern didn’t. That $30,000 transfer wasn’t a bonus fund. It was the annual lease payment for the office space. And I own the building. 01 The conference room was so quiet I could hear the hum of the HVAC system. Chloe stood at the far end of the long mahogany table, gripping her phone. The screen was facing outwards, displaying a screenshot of a bank transfer record. She looked righteously indignant, but I caught the shimmer of excitement in her eyes. It was the thrill of a junior employee who thought she’d caught a C-suite executive red-handed, ready to burn down the old guard. “The boss transferred you thirty grand. Today, you handed out bonuses—two hundred bucks via digital gift cards to each person. You pocketed over twenty-two thousand dollars in the middle!” “Ms. Evans, you’re stealing the hard-earned money of everyday people. How do you sleep at night?” How do I sleep? Usually on high-thread-count sheets that I bought myself. That $30,000 was the annual rent payment from the company to me. According to the actual budget, there were supposed to be no employee bonuses this year. Every dime of that $200 per person came directly out of my own pocket. I just wanted to start the year off on a good note for the team. I’d done this every year for the past five years. Everyone in that room, except Chloe, knew the situation. I raised my eyes to look at my colleagues. The moment our gazes met, they snapped their heads away, looking anywhere but at me. Mark, who had lost a three-million-dollar account last year and cried in my office begging me to save his job, was now staring intently at a blank piece of paper, scribbling nonsense. The junior analysts I had hired and mentored personally for the last year kept their heads low, acting as if they were attending my funeral. My heart went cold in a single instant. Face expressionless, I turned to look at the man sitting in the central power seat: Brandon. “Brandon, what do you have to say?” Brandon Miller was my boyfriend of seven years. However, our relationship had never been disclosed to the company. Five years ago, when we graduated from college, he was obsessed with starting his own firm. I supported him completely. Without hesitation, I handed over the keys to a prime piece of commercial real estate listed under my name for his office. I charged him only 30% of the market rate for rent. Brandon was ambitious and worked brutally hard. He handled the tech; I handled the business operations. We grew the company quickly. For these five years, I had never taken a single dime in salary. Every bit of profit was reinvested into the business. He always said he’d make it up to me once the company stabilized, but currently, I was even paying the office utility bills out of my personal account. Chloe stomped her foot impatiently. “Mr. Miller! I know Ms. Evans is a company veteran, but she can’t be allowed to abuse her position like this. If she dares to steal bonus money, who knows how much she’s skimmed off other projects.” I locked eyes with Brandon. I watched his brows knit tighter and tighter together. Finally, he opened his mouth slowly. “Harper, we can’t let the team lose morale. Just… take care of it. Put the money back and distribute it fairly.” I heard something inside me click. It didn’t break. It detached. It was like letting go of a heavy weight I’d been holding for years. My muscles ached from the effort, but I didn’t have to strain anymore. Five years ago, in the early days of the startup, I developed a bleeding ulcer from drinking too much at a business dinner trying to land a critical contract. Brandon’s eyes had been full of heartache then. He swore he’d give me every cent the company made. He blamed himself for not being strong enough. He said he was the luckiest man alive to have me. Now, with a net worth approaching ten million, he was accusing me of stealing. Chloe looked at me with the smug arrogance of a victor. “Ms. Evans, if you refuse to pay it back, I will personally call the police for you.” She planted her hands on the table, leaning forward, surveying the room like a conquering queen. “Or, you could ask around and see if anyone here is willing to give up their bonus to bail you out.” Absolute silence filled the conference room. You could have heard a pin drop. I glanced at Sarah, sitting across from me. Just yesterday, on the last day of break, she had text me, dropping massive hints about hoping for a good bonus and complaining about how cheap Brandon was. Now, her head was buried lower than anyone’s. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, Chloe seemed to lose patience. “I bet you’ve already spent the other twenty-two grand! Fine, save your explanations for the cops. Twenty-two thousand is grand larceny. That’s good for a few years in a cell, right?” Brandon frowned, looking like he wanted to stop Chloe from going too far. But I spoke first, my voice cutting through the tension. “Don’t bother.” Ignoring Brandon, I looked at Chloe with a blank stare. “I will return the money to the source account. How it gets distributed after that is none of my concern.” I saw a flash of pleasant surprise in Brandon’s eyes. He thought he saw an opportunity to save on future rent. I stood up and walked straight out of the conference room. The moment I was in the hallway, I called a real estate agent and listed the office space for lease. Prime downtown location. Agents were fighting over the listing. “Ms. Evans, a spot like this will rent in a heartbeat. I guarantee I can get you at least $100,000 a year for this floor!” I looked back through the glass wall at Brandon, still sitting smugly in the conference room. “The current tenant’s annual lease is up in ten days,” I told the agent. “Contact them then about renewal. But quote them the full market rate.” “If they make a scene, call the police immediately for trespassing.” Brandon wanted his $30,000 back, but he was about to lose a hundred times that. 02 About half an hour later, the staff filed out of the conference room, chattering excitedly. Mark was practically groveling to Chloe, bringing her water. “Chloe, seriously, thank you so much. I ended up with an extra eight grand!” Sarah shot me a nasty look and began talking loudly to no one in particular. “Wow, I really misjudged someone. I was practically thanking her while she was selling me out. Stealing that much money from us, and we were supposed to be grateful? People are truly wicked.” I felt no emotional ripple inside. If a man I’d loved for seven years could screw me over, what did I care about some random colleagues? I went to the break room, filled my mug with water, and calmly watched the storm they were brewing against me. Brandon materialized beside me. I hadn’t noticed him approach. “Harper, this is all for the good of the company. I’m just being objective. You can’t let personal feelings get in the way of business.” I nodded, agreeing completely. Brandon seemed satisfied with my reaction. “I knew it. You’ve always been rational.” Then he looked over at Chloe, who was laughing amidst a group of people. “Chloe is young. Her methods might be a bit… aggressive, but you can tell the girl has the company’s best interests at heart.” “She’s smart, too.” I looked at Brandon. He was staring at Chloe, a slight smile playing on his lips. I let out a soft laugh and put down my water mug. “You’re right. She sounds like management material.” A flash of surprise registered in Brandon’s eyes. “You think so too?” I nodded. “Young, smart. If you mentor her personally, she’ll be able to run a department on her own in no time.” Brandon’s eyes were practically beaming. I thought the conversation was over, but I had underestimated human greed. Just as I was about to leave, Brandon called out to me. “Harper, haven’t you been saying lately that you’re too tired and want a break? Hand over the Anderson account to Chloe.” I froze. That was the company’s biggest account. Series C financing. It was directly tied to whether the company could successfully expand or go public. I had been preparing for this for over a year. “I know how important this account is,” Brandon continued. “I’ll supervise personally. It’s a great mentoring opportunity for her.” I paused, then smiled. “Okay.” Brandon didn’t know that without me, even if he went in person, that deal would never close. Because the “Mr. Anderson” who was prepared to invest in him was my father. I am the only child of the Anderson family, the sole heir to the Anderson conglomerate. My dad had been nagging me to come back and take over the family business since I graduated. I told him to wait a bit—wait until Brandon’s company was stable, wait until I brought him home to meet the family. Now, there was no need to go home, and there was certainly no need for the investment to continue. 03 Brandon promoted Chloe to be his personal executive assistant. This meteoric rise made Chloe absolutely insufferable. She ditched her old trendy clothes and started wearing tight pencil skirts, black nylons, and red-bottomed heels. She marched around the office all day, clutching files like she owned the place. And of course, her favorite pastime was gloating in front of me. “Ms. Evans, I really have to thank you. Entrusting me with such a massive account for the company.” “Mr. Miller said we need to thank you for your willingness to sacrifice your own position for the sake of the new generation. But don’t you worry, with Mr. Miller mentoring me personally, I will improve so fast I won’t let anyone down.” “Once I successfully close this financing round, I’ll tell Mr. Miller he has to take you out to dinner as a thank you.” Her malice was blatant, like a needle pricking at me. She had no idea that this financing round, which the company had spent a year preparing for, was about to get crushed in her hands. I glanced at the calendar. “It’s in a week. Good luck.” Perhaps my reaction was too calm; it made her look like the one losing her cool. Chloe paused, then spat out furiously, “Keep acting calm! Once I land Mr. Anderson, we’ll see if there’s even a desk left for you in this building!” I smiled, saying nothing. From that day forward, I, the CFO, became a complete pariah. Wherever I walked, people dispersed like scattered birds. If the break room was noisy with chatter, it would go dead silent the second I walked in. People would grab their cups and leave. In the cafeteria, if someone saw me, they would immediately pick up their tray and switch tables, as if I were contagious. I didn’t care. I actually enjoyed the peace and quiet. For once, I didn’t have to work overtime. I left right on time and went straight to Brandon’s house. We had been effectively living together for years. It was almost funny—hanging in his bedroom was the very first contract I had landed five years ago. He had framed it, claiming he would always remember the excitement and passion of that day. I packed up all my belongings. Before leaving, I took one last look at that contract. Some people can share wealth but not hardship. Brandon was the opposite. The next day when I walked into the office, everyone was shooting me weird looks. I walked quickly to my office, only to find all my personal belongings thrown outside the door like trash. Chloe was sitting in my chair. When she turned around, her face was covered in a victorious smirk. “Oh, sorry. Mr. Miller said separate offices should be reserved for employees who actually contribute to the company.” “As of today, this office is mine.” She stood up, smoothing her skirt, and casually pointed to an empty, cramped desk in the far corner of the open-plan floor. “That’s your new spot.” Everyone outside was waiting to watch the show. “Looks like Harper really pissed off the boss. Imagine being bullied like that by an intern who’s only been here three months.” “Well, she stole company money. She deserves it.” Hearing these comments, Chloe leaned close to my ear, her tone dripping with triumph. “Here’s some news for you: Anderson Corp said they are coming in this afternoon to discuss the financing. I’m going to prove to you that without you, this company will only do better!” She was waiting for me to melt down, to scream, to slink away in shame. I completely ignored her and looked down at my phone, replying to my dad’s message. “Harper, Dad is preparing to personally come over to discuss the investment.” “If that boy performs well this time, I’ll start letting him take over some of the family properties.” I smiled at Chloe, then typed back to my dad: “Dad, I want to come back to Anderson Corp. I want to handle this meeting as the heir to Anderson Corp.” My dad replied with multiple excited “Okay” emojis. I smiled. Chloe wouldn’t suspect in her wildest dreams that the client she was about to meet was me. The position she was trying so hard to steal belonged to the owner of the entire building. After returning to my cramped desk, I made a call to the head of my father’s legal team. “Ms. Anderson, what are your instructions?” I looked through the glass wall at the smirk on Chloe’s face. “The preliminary meeting scheduled with the startup today? Cancel it.” 04 Within five minutes, Brandon slammed out of his office. “Chloe! What did you do? Why did Anderson Corp suddenly cancel today’s meeting?” Chloe froze, looking completely lost. Brandon continued yelling, “This financing round is the future of this company! No one is allowed to screw this up!” Every employee looked up. Chloe’s eyes immediately turned red with tears. “Mr. Miller, I swear I didn’t do anything.” Brandon was a workaholic. He drove himself hard and was brutal on his subordinates. Everyone kept their heads down, terrified to speak. But this time, Brandon actually massaged his temples and softened his tone. “I’m not blaming you.” I raised an eyebrow in surprise. Then, I watched him walk straight toward me. To my corner desk—the smallest, crappiest spot on the floor. “Harper, you were the one originally in charge of contacting Anderson Corp. Call them again.” I glanced at my completely empty desk. “All the files regarding Anderson Corp were transferred to your new assistant. I don’t have the contact info anymore.” “You…!” Brandon’s face went dark. He turned, walked back to his office, and slammed the door. Such blatant preferential treatment made everyone look at Chloe with even more reverence. Excellent. Brandon had just cleared the last hurdle for me to let go. Because of this little hiccup, Brandon became obsessed. The Anderson Corp legal team text me almost every day: “Ms. Anderson, that Brandon Miller guy is trying to contact us again. The scheduled site visit for Wednesday… are we still doing that?” Of course. Brandon thought he could ice me out and make me useless. Being sidelined and isolated might have broken someone else. Too bad for him, he picked the wrong person to bully. Two days before the client visit, the entire company went into high-alert combat mode. Tuesday afternoon, Brandon held a four-hour meeting, micro-managing exactly where every employee should be standing on Wednesday. Only I was completely excluded, enjoying my free time. The projector was displaying Anderson Corp’s profile—from my dad’s rags-to-riches story to his investment portfolio from the last three years. “This investment is vital to the company. No one is allowed to make a mistake.” “I heard Mr. Anderson likes Longjing tea. Chloe, make sure you have the best quality ready.” He had done his homework. His research was meticulous regarding the client’s tastes. Unfortunately, he failed to research that Mr. Anderson had a daughter named Harper Evans. After the meeting, Brandon called me aside, his tone unusually soft. “Harper, I didn’t assign you any tasks because I want you to rest.” “Once this busy period is over, I’ll take you on a vacation, okay?” Having been together for seven years, how could I not understand Brandon’s subtext? “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word that day.” Brandon paused, the shadow of anxiety in his eyes fading significantly. Wednesday arrived. Everyone was at their desks thirty minutes early. “The Anderson Corp team arrives at ten! Everyone, get to work!” At 9:50, my dad’s assistant text me. “Ms. Anderson, Mr. Anderson has instructed that you are in full charge of this financing round.” “We are outside. Is it okay to come in?” I glanced at Brandon and Chloe waiting by the elevator doors. “Come on up.” A moment later, Chloe suddenly got excited. “They’re here! They’re here!” A black Maybach slowly pulled up to the curb outside. Brandon took a deep breath, straightened his tie, and strode toward the elevator bay. Chloe jogged to keep up with him, her high heels clicking against the floor like the opening drumroll of a grand performance. The car doors opened. It wasn’t my dad who stepped out. It was his lead assistant. Seeing that my dad hadn’t come personally, Brandon paused for a second, but quickly extended his hand. “Hello, sir. Is Mr. Anderson not…” The assistant completely ignored Brandon. His eyes locked onto me, standing way in the back, in the pariah section. He strode directly toward me…

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Every single Thanksgiving, my sister-in-law and her family hitch a ride in my car to go back to my husband’s hometown. This year, I asked her to chip in for gas just once. She immediately went on Facebook and blasted me. “Need advice: My sister-in-law is forcing me to pay for gas, what should I do?” “Hey everyone, do you actually have to pay to ride in your own brother’s car?” When the comments started calling her a freeloader, she doubled down and reported my car to my employer as a “bribe.” She almost cost me my career. My in-laws called me petty and demanded I apologize to her. I snapped. I literally flipped the Thanksgiving dinner table. Did they really think I was just some pushover they could walk all over? 01 Right before Thanksgiving week, my sister-in-law, Chloe, sent her usual request to hitch a ride. “Hey Harper, we’re riding with you guys again this year. When are we heading out?” “My brother said we’re leaving on the 24th, just wanted to check with you.” Reading the message, a wave of intense irritation washed over me. Just thinking about them freeloading in my car again made me wish the engine would just spontaneously combust. I replied bluntly, “Wouldn’t it be faster for you guys to just buy train tickets? It’s only a two-hour ride.” Chloe, sensing my annoyance, quickly tried to smooth things over. “Train tickets are so hard to get around the holidays! I’m so sorry, Harper, I really am.” I scoffed inwardly. Before Chloe got married, giving her a ride wasn’t a big deal. But since she got married, her family of three brings multiple huge suitcases, packing the trunk so tight I barely have room for my own things. To make matters worse, her husband, Greg, has zero social grace. The moment he gets in the car, he glues his face to his phone. The moment we stop, he runs off to the bathroom. Treating us like a free taxi service is bad enough, but he also spends the entire trip backseat driving and complaining. Their three-year-old son is a nightmare, too. The back of the front seats are always covered in his muddy footprints. When we stop at rest stops, they actually have the nerve to ask me to buy snacks and drinks for their kid. As for the gas and tolls for the entire trip? They pretend those expenses don’t exist. I’m not against giving them a ride. Once or twice is fine. But every single year? And acting so entitled about it? Does my money grow on trees? 02 When my husband, Ben, got home from work, he asked cautiously, “Honey, did you and Chloe get into a fight?” I glared at him, feeling even more annoyed. Even though we don’t live with my in-laws, having a sister-in-law who constantly complains to them is exhausting. They both have their own families now, but they still can’t establish normal boundaries. I sat on the couch, crossing my arms. “Every year we go back to your hometown for Thanksgiving, your sister’s family hitches a ride. Can’t they just buy their own train tickets?” Ben scratched his head and leaned in with a goofy smile. “Babe, you know tickets are hard to get during the holidays!” “Be the bigger person. It’s just a ride, no big deal.” Right then, my coworkers were sending links in our work group chat, asking people to help them get waitlisted train tickets. “Hey guys, click the link to boost my spot in line. Getting home depends on you all!” “Just need two more clicks, thanks everyone.” … I clicked on the profile of a coworker heading to a city near my in-laws’ hometown and messaged him privately. “Hey Mark, did you manage to get your train ticket home?” Mark replied quickly, “Got it, Harper! Tickets were easy to get this year. They added two extra train lines to that route.” “So jealous of you, Harper, getting to drive home.” I opened the Amtrak app and searched for tickets to my in-laws’ town. There were seven trains, and three of them still had plenty of seats. I immediately took a screenshot and sent it to Chloe, telling them to buy tickets fast. “These three trains still have seats. You guys can buy them right now.” “The cost of three tickets is less than the gas for the drive, and it’s safer.” Last time we drove back, her son accidentally slammed his head into the car door, leaving a massive, swollen lump. It terrified me. If something serious actually happened, selling the car wouldn’t even cover the lawsuit. I had constantly suggested she take the train with the kid because it was safer and more convenient, but she always ignored me. Thinking about it, I forwarded her an article about child car safety. The author emphasized the absolute necessity of car seats for children. I added a helpful reminder: “Chloe, I don’t have a car seat in my car. It’s fine for adults, but it’s genuinely really dangerous for a kid.” Chloe didn’t reply. I had no idea if she even read it. Shortly after, I received a Venmo transfer for $50. The note read: Gas money. I replied: “?” Chloe still didn’t reply to me directly, but she posted a screenshot of our chat in the family group text. “Having to pay gas money to ride in my own brother’s car… that’s a new one.” “But whatever, I won’t make a fuss. I paid the gas money.” “I guess some families just have to nickel-and-dime everything. Lol!” That “Lol!” felt like a needle in my eye. I was just about to type a furious response when Ben walked out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands wandering over my waist. “Watcha looking at, beautiful?” I angrily shoved him away and shoved the phone in his face, telling him to look at what his precious sister had said. “Look at what your sister wrote! What does she mean I ‘nickel-and-dime’ everything?” “I was genuinely concerned for her kid’s safety. If something happened, your whole family would tear me apart.” “Besides, we’ve been married for five years. They hitch a ride every single time and never contribute a dime. Why should I put up with it?” The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I stood up, ready to list every single offense. But Ben just frowned and looked at me with absolute disdain. “Why can’t you just be generous for once? Why do you have to be so petty about every little thing?” “Are we really hurting for fifty bucks of gas money?” “If you act like this, how are we supposed to face my parents when we go back?” Looking at his aggressive, accusatory face, I was stunned. So, in the eyes of his entire family, I was just a petty, vindictive shrew? It wasn’t enough that his sister’s family constantly took advantage of us; I was also expected to bow down, smile, and be at their beck and call? I reminded him, “This car was a gift from my parents before we got married. It’s not a company car for your family.” Hearing that, he completely lost it. He violently threw the towel in his hand right at my face. His expression twisted into a snarl I had never seen before. I dodged it. He lunged forward, grabbing my arm, his voice cold. “How much longer are you going to hold this stupid car over my head? Do you look down on me?” I just wanted to remind him that the car belonged to our household, and I had the right to decide who used it. But he felt emasculated, assuming I was looking down on him. Dealing with such a childish, fragile husband was exhausting. When we were dating, I only cared about how much he seemed to care about me. I completely ignored his family dynamic. My parents had given me enough financial security that I didn’t have to act like a subservient, walking-on-eggshells wife. But after we got married, his true nature slowly revealed itself. His paranoia and sensitivity constantly left me unable to defend myself against his ridiculous accusations. Looking at his furious face, it looked like he was a second away from hitting me. I was terrified. I quickly shook my head. “No, you’re overthinking it. I was just stating the facts.” Just then, an obnoxious ringtone blared. He let go of me and answered his phone. “Hey Mom, yeah, we’re driving back on the 24th.” “No, no, I was just kidding! Why would I ever make Chloe pay for gas?” “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” He hung up the phone and glared at me coldly. “Harper, behave yourself when we go back for Thanksgiving. Don’t start any drama.” 03 The next day at work, my department director called me into his office. “Harper, have you been meeting with anyone unusual lately?” I was confused. I’m just a mid-level employee in a state government agency; who would I be meeting with? But I answered honestly, “Just a few contractors to discuss the project guidelines for next quarter.” The director poured me a cup of water, his tone cautious. “Um… did they happen to give you anything?” It hit me. In our line of work, the biggest fear is improper relationships with contractors. Bribery is a career death sentence. I immediately stood up to defend myself. “Sir, all my meetings with contractors are recorded on security cameras. I can absolutely stand up to any investigation.” Seeing how agitated I was, the director quickly told me to sit down. I then learned that someone had submitted an anonymous tip accusing me of accepting bribes, and even claiming my recent promotion was rigged. The whistleblower was highly informed about my financial situation, specifically pointing out my $40,000 Mercedes. “How can a mid-level state employee afford such an expensive car?” “I have evidence of her accepting bribes. I hope management strictly investigates this bad apple.” The “evidence” was a blurry video shot in a hotel hallway. In the video, I was standing at my hotel room door, taking a delivery bag from a courier. The bag had a luxury brand logo on it. The whistleblower had zoomed in heavily on the logo. I watched the video two or three times before finally remembering what happened. A while ago, I was on a business trip in the city where my aunt lives. She was rushing to catch a flight overseas, so she hired a courier to drop off a gift for me at my hotel. That scarf was still hanging in my closet. How did this end up as a bribery accusation? Even though I had proof, the director decided it was best to put me on paid leave to avoid any negative optics. “Just take the vacation time you’ve accrued. Come back when the dust settles.” “Don’t overthink it. Just relax. It’s a good time to focus on getting pregnant.” The director patted my shoulder, noticing my gloomy expression. He called it “vacation,” but in reality, it was a soft suspension. If I actually got pregnant during this time, I probably wouldn’t have a job to come back to. Having worked here for years, I knew how the corporate politics played out. I felt completely defeated, both at work and at home. And just to make things worse, Chloe was still causing a scene in the family group chat. She forwarded a viral TikTok video about a college student getting a ride home for the holidays with her uncle, but her aunt demanded gas money. The comment section was filled with people calling out freeloaders, defending the college student. “I gave my uncle a few hundred bucks when I rode with him. If it was more than that, I wouldn’t have given him a dime.” “Remember to tell your mom about this.” “I relate to this so much, I’d get yelled at by my sister for sure.” But occasionally, there were one or two comments sarcastically calling the poster a “freeloader.” … Coupled with the $50 she had sent me earlier, it was hard not to conclude she was targeting me, the “aunt” in her scenario. In the family group chat, my mother-in-law fired the first shot: “What does this mean? Asking for money to ride in your own uncle’s car? What kind of logic is that?” An aunt chimed in: “It’s just a ride, why be so calculating? What, does having an extra person in the car burn more gas?” Chloe played the innocent victim: “She’s probably just tired of us riding with her, so she’s getting annoyed.” My mother-in-law fired back immediately: “Even if you rode with her every day, she shouldn’t complain! Does your kid call her ‘Auntie’ for nothing?” Every word, every sentence implicitly pointed at me, and everyone knew it. I was so annoyed I just started typing: “So, calling someone ‘Auntie’ means you get a free ride for life?” “Being a freeloader and acting so entitled about it… what kind of upbringing is that?” “When parents don’t know basic manners, their kids learn the exact same thing.” I didn’t know the full context of the video she posted, but based on the original poster’s reaction, I could guess they had probably never offered to pay before. The poster’s mother probably didn’t have a great relationship with her brother and sister-in-law either. Otherwise, why would the aunt make things difficult for her niece? Putting myself in the aunt’s shoes, I felt like the sky was falling. The older generation and the younger generation all thought I should just be a free chauffeur. Asking for money meant I was being petty. The kids were unhappy, the elders were oblivious, and they all felt entirely entitled. How many times could this so-called “family bond” endure this kind of wear and tear? Seeing me push back so hard, Chloe got sarcastic. “Wow, you have a car, so you’re better than everyone else? Now you’re bringing ‘upbringing’ into this?” “It’s just a dirty car anyway, what’s there to be so proud of?” My eyes locked onto the words “dirty car,” and a spark of realization flashed in my mind. I seized on her words and demanded, “What do you mean? What do you mean ‘dirty car’?” “My parents bought me this car! Watch your mouth!!!” Triggered by my response, Chloe stopped hiding behind veiled insults and went fully on the offensive. “Your parents are just ordinary office workers! Where would they get that kind of money?” “You have an older brother! Why would they buy you a car?” “Anyone can see that car was a ‘gift’ from someone else. You probably opened a lot of ‘back doors’ for people, didn’t you?!” Seeing her so boldly and confidently admit it, a sharp pain shot through my chest. To pass the civil service exam, I had locked myself in my room for three straight months, barely stepping outside. After getting hired, I worked tirelessly, extremely careful not to make a single mistake. To audit accounts, I practically lived at the office. Among the new hires in my cohort, I worked the most overtime, and I was the only one without political connections. Six months later, my results were undeniable, and my promotion was a given. All my financial records and interpersonal dealings could withstand any audit. And now, just because I didn’t want her freeloading anymore, she threw dirty water on me. With a report like that on my record, my career was stained. Future promotions would definitely pass me over. I was shaking with anger, words tumbling out recklessly: “My parents bought me that car because they love me! You don’t have parents who love you, go cry to them about it!” “This year, even if I have to smash the car to pieces, I am not taking your family.” “Get lost, freeloader!” 04 When I got home, I was so furious I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to just drive the car back to my parents’ house and buy a train ticket to my in-laws’ town. But when I got to the garage, it was empty. Ben stammered and avoided my eyes, finally claiming that a good buddy of his was going on a blind date and borrowed our car to look impressive. “My buddy is a great driver, nothing will happen to it.” “He just took it to pick up the girl for dinner, he’ll bring it back soon.” I felt a sharp pain in my chest. How many times had this happened? Five years ago, when Ben and I got married, my parents gifted me a $40,000 Mercedes. From that moment on, the car seemingly became public property for his family. If anyone in Chloe’s family had a minor headache, they’d run over and borrow the car. When we went back for Thanksgiving, every single relative felt entitled to order Ben around as their personal chauffeur. For weddings, funerals, whatever major event, his friends and family would ask to borrow our car. Fine. Let them borrow it. I couldn’t really say no. But they would borrow a perfectly clean car and return it absolutely filthy. Speeding tickets, toll fees, and gas money—we always ended up paying out of pocket. A few times, people even threw up in the car. I had to swallow my disgust and pay for detailing. Once, halfway through washing the car, the detailer found a few used condoms stuffed in the back seat crevices. I checked the dashcam footage and almost threw up. On the custom floor mats I had carefully picked out, Ben’s cousin was hooking up with some random woman. I exploded on the spot. I blasted the cousin in the family group chat. Ben’s aunt actually blamed me for being petty, saying the young couple was just “being romantic” and I was making a big deal out of nothing. I laughed coldly and dropped a screenshot from the dashcam video into the chat. “Auntie, take a closer look before you speak. That’s not his wife in the video.” “If you want to screw around, don’t you know how to get a hotel room? Doing it in my car, that’s disgusting!” In the end, the cousin and his wife almost got divorced over it, and Ben blamed me. “Look at you, making a massive scene over a minor issue!” “Now my cousin’s family is falling apart. Are you happy?” That Thanksgiving was a chaotic disaster. The entire extended family treated us like a reality TV show. What left me even more speechless was that they didn’t end up divorcing. The cousin’s wife even sent passive-aggressive messages in the group chat targeting me: “Some people get a little money and think they’re better than everyone else.” “Do too many wicked things, and not being able to have kids is your karma.” I was so furious I was about to go to war with her, but Ben jumped in front of me to play the hero. “Our car won’t be loaned out anymore. Everyone needs to respect that.” “Every time you borrow it, it leaves with a full tank and comes back empty. We aren’t your personal ATMs.” Once, his cousin borrowed the car to go partying and brought it back with the gas light on. I was in a rush to get somewhere and didn’t check the gauge. I ran out of gas halfway there and was stranded on the side of the road for hours. The car stalled in the middle of a lane, causing a huge traffic jam and making me miss an incredibly important contract signing. When I finally got back to the office, my boss screamed at me until I was deaf. After that, I strictly forbade Ben from lending the car out behind my back. I even threatened him with divorce. But he treated it like empty air, secretly lending it out anyway. This time, Chloe wanted to hitch a ride again. With all the old grudges and new offenses, I firmly refused. And as a result, she almost cost me my job. Not only that, she seemed intent on destroying my reputation and getting me permanently kicked out of government service. 05 After I went off in the family group chat, Chloe stayed quiet for a while. I directly bought two train tickets and announced that we weren’t driving this time; everyone was taking the train back. My mother-in-law called me, and her entire conversation was just a thinly veiled demand for a grandchild. We’ve been married for five years, and I’ve been entirely focused on my career. I truly haven’t had the energy to have a child. Ben and I had agreed before we got married that we would discuss kids once my career was stable. It’s hard enough for women in the workplace; pregnancy is an unavoidable hurdle. Many capable women enter the workforce with the potential to climb to management, even executive levels. But because of pregnancy and childbirth, they are forced to give up promotion opportunities. I didn’t want that. I wanted to stand at the top to justify all my years of grueling academic study. But Chloe’s tantrum made all my past efforts feel like a joke. My mother-in-law was very direct: “You’ve been married for five years. If you don’t have a baby soon, how is my son supposed to show his face?” “People in the neighborhood are calling him a mule. If you have no shame, I still do.” It was hard not to suspect that the mother and daughter had planned this together. One sabotages my career, the other swoops in to pressure me for a baby. A one-two punch designed to make me stay home peacefully, prepare for pregnancy, and completely abandon my career. Even my boss had cautiously asked if I was planning to have a kid. I broke down. I started wondering if I had been cursed. What wire in my brain crossed that made me agree to this marriage? I furiously yelled at my mother-in-law: “Nag, nag, nag! All you do is nag with your mouth!” “If you’re so good at nagging, why don’t you go sit in a fertility clinic? Just by talking, you could probably produce a whole litter.” It was the first time my mother-in-law had ever been clapped back at by me. She instantly started crying. She immediately called her son, claiming I bullied her, called her an old hag. She said I looked down on their family, that I thought they were poor and beneath me. Listening to her twist the truth, I felt a surge of dark satisfaction. Bet you didn’t expect your son to be standing right next to me. What an incredibly satisfying performance! Ben’s face went from pale to flushed. He brushed his mom off with a few vague words and hung up. Being called a “mule” by his own mother probably didn’t feel great for him either. But because of his male ego, he absolutely refused to go to the hospital for a check-up, stubbornly insisting that I was the one who couldn’t conceive. I was more than happy to play dumb. I didn’t want to have a kid with him anyway. 06 On the 24th, I had my suitcase packed and was ready to head out, but Ben stood rooted to the spot. I urged him, “Let’s go, we need to line up for the train.” That’s when he finally told me he lost his ID. “I don’t know when I lost it, but I can’t find it anywhere.” “Let’s just drive back.” I dropped my suitcase and stared at him, expressionless. He looked away guiltily, not daring to meet my eyes. Sharing a bed for over five years, how could I not know what he was plotting? But the train was leaving in an hour. It took 30 minutes to get to the station by cab. There was definitely no time to go get a temporary ID now. That wasn’t even factoring in traffic and lines. I said coldly, “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? You absolutely insist on driving that car back, don’t you?” He dropped the act and sat down, waving the car keys. “We have a car, why wouldn’t we drive it? Do you know how many people back home are jealous we have a Mercedes? It’s so much easier for me to drive around and visit relatives during the holidays.” I was about to explode, but my phone rang. Chloe and her family were already waiting downstairs, rushing us to come down and hit the road. I looked at my deadbeat husband, feeling utterly, hopelessly disappointed in his entire family. Ben grabbed my suitcase and pushed me toward the door. “Let’s go, let’s go. We don’t want to hit traffic.” 07 Once we got in the car, Chloe apologized to me first, and then proactively handed over the $50 for gas. Seeing my dark expression, she also bought me a Red Bull. “Harper, I really couldn’t get tickets. I’m so sorry.” Her husband scoffed, plopped down in the back seat, and immediately started scrolling on TikTok. I found out later that after she fought with me, she realized the tickets were actually sold out. She tried a bunch of scalpers but couldn’t get any. She looked into ride-shares, but when the drivers heard it was a family of three with a mountain of luggage, they quoted her the price to charter the whole car. Not wanting to pay the fare, she swallowed her pride and came crawling back to me. I was so disgusted by the siblings’ manipulation my chest physically hurt. I just prayed nothing else would go wrong on the drive. Next time something like this happened, I was just going to sell the car. Then no one could covet it. The car got on the highway quickly, and Chloe’s son started whining in the back. “Mommy, I gotta pee. I gotta pee.” I heard rustling as Chloe dug out a folding toddler potty. “Here, buddy, pee in this.” Immediately followed by the sound of a kid peeing. I had been trying to catch up on sleep in the passenger seat. I was suddenly jolted awake by the overwhelming stench of urine. “Ugh…” The smell made me so dizzy and nauseous that the two steamed buns I’d eaten for breakfast came right back up. We were flying down the highway at 70 mph, the scenery blurring past. The sour stench of vomit mixed with the sharp smell of urine, assaulting the nostrils of everyone in the car. Everyone looked green. I was pale as a sheet, pulling out a can of air freshener and spraying it like my life depended on it. Chloe’s son couldn’t handle the smell. He started crying, demanding we open the window, and even reached for the door handle. “It stinks! Open the door, open the door!” Chloe’s husband, whose massive bulk took up two-thirds of the back seat, kept scrolling through TikTok, oblivious to everything else. The piercing shrieks of the kid and the obnoxious laugh tracks from the phone assaulted my eardrums simultaneously. I was just about to tell him to turn it down or use headphones when suddenly, the unmistakable smell of shit wafted up from the back. “Ahhh! Buddy, did you poop?!” “Babe, quick, get the diapers! Hand me the wipes!” The family of three in the back was in total chaos. I silently pulled out a face mask, put it on, and started scrolling furiously on my phone to distract myself. Once Chloe had dealt with the literal shitstorm, she finally seemed a bit embarrassed. She laughed nervously, “I’m so sorry, Harper. He just ate a bit too much before we left this morning.” Fearing I’d get angry, she slapped her kid’s butt and scolded him loudly, putting on a show of disgust: “Why are you trying to open the window?! Is this your car? Why do you think you can open the window?!” “I asked you if you had to go before we got in, and you said no! The minute we’re on the road, it’s nonstop pissing and shitting! Are you doing this on purpose?!” The kid wailed as he was hit, and Chloe alternated between comforting and yelling at him. I turned around, frowning. “Stop hitting him. We’ll pull into the next rest stop and take a break.” The suffocating stench, amplified by the car’s heater, evenly coated every square inch of the interior. The kid’s shrieks and the blaring TikTok comedy tracks from the back seat were a relentless assault on my sanity. I already had a problem with neurasthenia, and now I had a splitting headache. Ben couldn’t take it anymore either. He checked the GPS. “Next rest stop is in ten minutes.” But then, about 300 feet from the exit for the rest stop, there was a massive accident. The rest stop was temporarily closed. No entry allowed. The next rest stop was another half-hour away. I snapped. I told him to get off the highway and take local roads immediately. I couldn’t stand being in this literal toilet of a car for another minute.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “395048”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I am a capybara who somehow transmigrated into the body of a D-list actress caught in a massive internet scandal. Facing a barrage of online hate. I slowly chewed the cabbage in my mouth: “Sure, whatever.” The internet: … On a reality TV show, a spoiled rich heiress sneaked into my room late at night. “Can I sleep holding you?” I stared blankly and advised against it: “It’s best if you don’t.” The heiress: “I’m going to.” Me: “Alright then.” The entire internet roasted me: [Her emotional stability is too good. I want to date her.] And just like that, I skyrocketed to fame, with the whole internet screaming for me to be their mom. I stared blankly at my phone, ready to type a reply. When an elite New York billionaire gritted his teeth and warned: “If you dare reply with ‘Sure, whatever,’ just try it and see what happens.” 01 My name is Capybara. I am, literally, a capybara. My face is squarer than a guinea pig’s, my body is covered in coarse brown hair, and petting me feels like petting a broom. The daily to-do list for our capybara family consists of: Spacing out. Taking a bath. Spacing out while taking a bath. Eating grass. Spacing out. Spacing out while eating grass. We are the most zen animals in the animal kingdom. Don’t be fooled by our blank expressions; if you actually manage to provoke us… Well, you’re basically punching cotton. We usually can’t be bothered to move, but we are deeply beloved by the rest of the animal kingdom. If the journey is long, Mr. Pelican lets me stand on his back and flies me there. If the journey is short, Ms. Crocodile lets me stand on her back and gives me a ride. When it’s time to eat, we stack up like Jenga blocks on our mom’s back. As the youngest capybara, I lost my footing one time and tumbled down. When I woke up, I had transmigrated into the body of a heavily scandalized D-list actress in the entertainment industry. The system apologized to me: [Sorry, Host. I… I bound to the wrong soul.] I sat up, staring blankly, and responded. [Sure, whatever.] The system: ??? [No, I said I bound to the wrong soul. Aren’t you angry?] [Mhm.] … 02 I thought the bed here was actually quite soft. I wanted to sleep. So, I lay down. It really was very soft. Unexpectedly, the original host’s ringtone blared. Under the system’s panicked prompting, I successfully pressed the answer button. “Chloe, I’m already with Sophia. Stop pestering me. If you dare target Sophia again, I swear I won’t let you get away with it.” “We’re done. Delete my number.” Me: “Sure, whatever.” So, I clumsily deleted the contact saved as “Him” on WeChat. Then I turned over and continued lying on the bed like a corpse, going back to sleep. I slept for two whole days. When I woke up, I was surrounded by a large crowd of people. My manager, Linda, saw I was awake, her eyes wide with shock. “You… you’re not dead?” Next to her stood a police officer and a medical examiner. Outside the door, a few neighbors were secretly pointing their phones at me, live-streaming the scene. I was… hungry. So, I slowly got up, opened the fridge, took out a large handful of cabbage, and started munching on it. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Linda: … “What are you doing?” Me: “Eating.” She glanced at the darkened faces of the police officer and medical examiner, then yelled anxiously: “Weren’t you trying to commit suicide by cutting your wrists? Your neighbors said you hadn’t left your apartment for two days, the place smelled like blood, and your phone was off!” I looked at the blood on my hand. I probably bit myself by accident while sleeping again. We capybaras usually can’t tell what we can and cannot eat, plus we have bad eyesight. No wonder the cabbage in my dream tasted a bit off. Linda frowned, clearly not believing me: “If it wasn’t a suicide attempt, why didn’t you treat the wound?” I had a sudden realization. Oh, right. Linda: “…” The police officer and medical examiner sternly reprimanded Linda: “Please do not waste public resources. Filing a false police report is a crime.” Meanwhile, the neighbors outside the door were gossiping. “Isn’t she the one who pushed Sophia into the water and got blocked by Liam? And then she faked a suicide attempt.” “Now the police have confirmed it was a false alarm.” Photos of the police walking downstairs were posted online by paparazzi. The entire internet was furious: [I am so done with her. Does she think she owns the police department? Faking suicide just because she got blocked, wasting public resources.] [It’s been three years. Has she still not given up? Our Sophia and Liam are a match made in heaven.] [She was the one who pushed Sophia on that show before. Sophia is still in the hospital!] [What’s the point of faking a suicide attempt?] … 03 As soon as the police left, Linda glared at me furiously. “Look at this! Are you complaining that you don’t have enough scandals already?” Her phone screen showed my trending hashtag: #Shocking: Chloe Fakes Suicide and Files False Police Report After Being Blocked by Liam# Below were the netizens’ comments. 9,999 hate comments. Linda looked at me with immense frustration: “Do you even want to survive in Hollywood anymore?” Me: “Whatever works.” She fell silent for a long time, finally covering her face. “Forget it. Let it all burn.” “You have a reality TV show tomorrow. Sophia and Liam will be there too. You went viral today, so your live-stream viewership tomorrow is going to be massive.” “Watch yourself when the time comes. But whatever you do, you’ll get hate anyway. Just… eat more, sleep more, and talk less. You’re not smart, and your emotional intelligence is low.” If it were anyone else, they would have been furious. I obediently nodded: “Okay.” This is our capybara nature: eat more, sleep more, talk less. Hmm, though “not smart” and “low emotional intelligence” was definitely a hate comment. I chose to ignore it. 04 The next day. I dragged the suitcase Linda packed for me to the filming location. The system gave me a last-minute crash course. This was a live-streamed romantic survival reality show. The female lead, Sophia, and the male lead, Liam, were also present. The original host was Liam’s gold-digging ex-girlfriend. After breaking up with a down-on-his-luck Liam, she entered the entertainment industry but never really made it big. Until Liam graduated from college, got discovered by a talent scout, and skyrocketed to become an A-list superstar. The original host repeatedly harassed Liam, looking at him with longing eyes, even blocking him at his dressing room door to talk about the past. Eventually, this disgusted Liam, and netizens dug up her dark history. She became an infamous, universally hated D-list actress. Out of jealousy over Sophia and Liam’s close interactions, she pushed Sophia, completely enraging Liam. In this romantic survival show, she acted as the villain, deepening the bond between the male and female leads. Finally, she successfully got herself killed. After explaining, the system apologized to me. Because, according to the plot, I wouldn’t live much longer. I nodded. Living is fine, dying is pretty good too. The system: … 05 There were eight cast members in total: four men and four women. The male cast members were: Contestant 1, the wealthy CEO heir, Jackson; Contestant 2, the A-list superstar, Liam; Contestant 3, the award-winning actor, Ethan; Contestant 4, the New York elite billionaire, Caleb. The female cast members were: Contestant 1, the popular starlet, Sophia; Contestant 2, the wealthy heiress, Olivia; Contestant 3, the mega-influencer with millions of followers, Mia; Contestant 4… me. The moment we stepped onto the island, we entered the live-streaming zone. The men and women filed into a temporarily constructed thatched hut. We started introducing ourselves. To deepen the intimacy between the cast, the production team asked everyone to call each other by their nicknames. When it was my turn, I said seriously: “Just call me Capybara.” A few people laughed out loud. Even Caleb, standing across from me, had a smile in his eyes. The live chat, however, was flooded at that moment: [LMAO, what a clown. Is she just trying to get my idol’s attention?] [The person above is being ridiculous. Everyone has a nickname. Chloe just said hers, how is that trying to get your idol’s attention?] [Chloe truly has the constitution of someone who gets hated for breathing.] Sophia covered her mouth to hide a smile: “This is the first time I’ve heard Chloe’s nickname.” [See, I told you she was being a clown.] [Our Sophia even calls her ‘sister,’ lol. She debuted earlier than Sophia, but she’s nowhere near as popular.] I didn’t see the chat. I watched the others exchange pleasantries and begin assigning tasks. I sat off to the side, spacing out. So hungry. What’s for lunch? Throughout the show, the production team only communicated with us via a black two-way radio. 06 The final results came out. I was paired with Caleb. We were responsible for searching the forest for food. Sophia and Liam were a team, tasked with gathering firewood for cooking. The heiress Olivia and the CEO heir Jackson were a team, responsible for following clues to find the survival supplies left by the production team. This included drinking water, pots and pans, sleeping bags, etc. The last team was responsible for building some simple bed frames inside the thatched hut. Sophia asked me with concern: “Chloe, you don’t mind, right?” I nodded: “Whatever works for me.” She paused slightly, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily. Even Liam had a look of surprise in his eyes. He frowned, seemingly surprised that I didn’t fight to be in the same group as him and Sophia. He had been certain I would throw a fit. But right now, my mind was completely blank. My mouth was slightly open, and I was perfectly still, clearly spacing out. The others felt the atmosphere getting a bit weird and quickly changed the subject. Caleb walked up to me, his hands in his pockets. “Tsk, let’s go.” I nodded and followed him into the forest behind the hut at a leisurely pace. This morning, I wore an outfit Linda put together for me: overalls and a pink t-shirt, paired with matching sneakers. Slung over my shoulder was a small crossbody bag with a fuzzy animal on it—a capybara. Caleb, being a New York elite, was known for his lack of patience. It wasn’t until we reached the edge of the forest that he turned back to glance at me. At that moment, a bird had landed right on top of my head. And a squirrel was perched on my shoulder. I looked utterly ridiculous. He couldn’t help it; the corner of his mouth twitched. I widened my eyes and blinked at him, not knowing what he was laughing at. For us capybaras, isn’t this a common occurrence? [Wait, I suddenly feel like Chloe is kind of cute, a little adorkable.] [Does she have a natural zookeeper aura? That bird has been standing on Chloe’s head the whole way.] [Earlier, the squirrel was climbing on Chloe’s back, and she didn’t even flinch.] [It’s staged, right? Squirrels are usually easily spooked, especially wild ones. Why would they voluntarily approach a human? Did Chloe bring her own pets? Trying to build an animal-lover persona?] … 07 Three minutes later, Caleb and I stood in front of a small lake at the edge of the forest. The lake was surrounded by dense, tall grass. It made people worry that an animal might jump out at any second. After all, this was a deserted island. No one knew if there were any fierce wild animals lurking around. Especially for the women. Furthermore, being on a deserted island with nobody else around made it the perfect setting for romance to bloom. Caleb, however, wasn’t afraid. In his early years, he was thrown into a special training base on the edge of a desert for a few years. The desert had rattlesnakes and wolves at night. When he was young, he was even kidnapped once. He killed the mercenaries holding him hostage and escaped on his own. The production team knew this, which is why they allowed him to bring a tranquilizer gun and a machete onto the island. Of course, before filming began, the production team had thoroughly scouted the island to ensure there were no highly aggressive wild animals before they dared to film. But it was still a deserted island, and no one could guarantee 100% safety. Therefore, the production team sprinkled a lot of sulfur powder around the thatched hut to prevent venomous snakes and insects from getting inside. I followed Caleb’s gaze. Across the lake, there was a large patch of wild kiwi and akebia fruit. Green and purple, bursting open to clearly show the flesh inside. I instinctively stepped forward, wanting to get a closer look, but Caleb shoved me back. Before I could react, I saw him pull out his tranquilizer gun. His voice was incredibly low: “There’s an alligator in the lake.” The fans in the live stream were terrified too. [It’s true. Near the edge of the lake, hidden by the water weeds, a huge alligator just came up.] [It looks like it’s swimming towards Caleb.] [Oh my god, if anything happens, it’s over. Caleb… the director and the production team are totally screwed.] The alligator moved fast. Caleb grabbed my hand and ran toward the woods. We hadn’t taken many steps before the alligator came ashore. Caleb raised the tranquilizer gun and machete, on high alert. His sharp jawline was tight, and his thin lips were pressed into a hard line. I took a look at the alligator. Its large, round eyes were half-closed. It seemed to have caught my scent. It turned its head away with a look of slight disgust. But I clearly heard its voice: “It’s actually a capybara.” “Better not eat it. Eating it might cause… mental retardation.” Me: … Three more birds flew over and continued stacking themselves on my head. I remained perfectly still. Caleb looked at me and sighed: “There’s an alligator here. We can’t get the food.” “We might go hungry for a day.” Me: ??? Hungry? That is absolutely unacceptable. What we capybaras fear most is hunger. After all, our daily routine consists of spacing out, eating, and sleeping. Missing even one of the three is a disaster. So, I took two steps forward, then another two. Step by step, it was the devil’s pace. Oh, frictionless, frictionless. I stood on the back of the 200-pound alligator. Caleb: ? The crucial point was that the alligator knew what I wanted to do. After all, us capybaras have always been very popular and highly regarded in the animal kingdom. However, our image of being gluttonous, sleepy, prone to spacing out, and having intermittent phases of laziness was deeply ingrained in animal minds. Before Caleb could even react, the alligator had already swum into the middle of the lake. [Wait, this girl? What’s going on? Isn’t this a live stream? When did they add CGI?] [Throughout history, there has never been such a shocking existence! Standing on an alligator’s back?] [Chloe is truly stupid. Does she really think the alligator will take her across to pick fruit?] [She’s going to get eaten in the middle of the lake. Oh my god, I can’t watch this anymore.] Caleb’s fingers twitched slightly. He kept the tranquilizer gun aimed at the alligator’s back the entire time, but the alligator had already reached the middle of the lake. I took my time picking the fruit, and then leisurely stepped on the alligator’s head to come back. [This girl… she actually came back.] [Her crossbody bag is bulging. Did she really go pick fruit?] [No way, have alligators gone vegan now?] [Badass.] [Are the birds on this girl’s head playing Jenga? How did it turn into six or seven of them?] [Isn’t her head heavy? Her emotional stability is off the charts.] [Mind-blowing. Even fiction writers wouldn’t dare write something this absurd. Who uses a 200-pound alligator as a boat?] Someone immediately screenshotted the moment I stood on the alligator’s back. They even turned it into a meme and added background music. … 08 Back at the thatched hut. There were a few tents set up outside. Olivia sat on the side, her legs crossed, explaining: “The supplies we found.” “The production team didn’t completely leave us to die. They left a few tents, otherwise, I wouldn’t dare imagine how many people could fit in that hut.” The others nodded in agreement. When Caleb came back, he had even speared a fish by the lake. With the addition of the fruit, dinner for today was settled. After eating her fill, Olivia sat to the side, rubbing her stomach. “I’m still hungry. I want to eat the pork bone ramen my chef makes.” I was shocked: Pork? Bone? Could it be… Sophia, standing nearby, pointed to the tent in the center. “I’m sleeping in this one tonight.” The others frowned but didn’t say anything. Liam chose the tent next to hers. The two of them secretly went into the woods for some romantic interaction. The live stream comments from their shippers were going crazy. I lay in the tent, recalling the days when I used to ride birds and fly. Sighing over my life on the African savanna, watching lionesses fall in love every day. Well, whatever. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Being human isn’t too bad either. … 09 This was a survival romance reality show. Today, only the CEO heir, Jackson, and the influencer, Mia, were left behind to watch the tents and ensure no small animals chewed through them. Everyone else went out to search for food. Hearing Caleb say he encountered an alligator by the lake, no one dared to go there again. We could only explore the woods to see if we could find any wild animals or wild fruits. I watched the small animals eagerly approaching me, stealing glances at Caleb from time to time. He had long noticed the snow-white pelican standing upright and looking at me from across the way. Uh-oh. Remembering how much those damn clippers hurt. I instinctively took a step back in fear, bumping my back into Caleb’s chest. His warm breath fell on the top of my head. “You okay?” I nodded blankly, feeling a bit intimidated by the huge pelican across from us. Pelicans are not very popular in the animal kingdom. The reason is that they want to taste everything. They want to take a bite out of whatever passes by just to see what it tastes like. They have zero sense of boundaries. Even if they don’t know you, they will try to swallow anything in front of them. And once they latch onto you, they’ll keep following you and clipping at you relentlessly. Sophia frowned slightly. The way she looked at me radiated a saintly aura, filled with blame and pity. She comforted me. “Chloe, pelicans don’t eat people. You don’t need to be so afraid. “You scared it.” After saying that, she even walked right up to the pelican and patted its head with a smile. The pelican tilted its head, clearly a bit stunned. I heard its voice. “Hmm? Don’t know what this is, but I want to eat it.” The comment section was full of praise: [See, Chloe’s animal-lover persona is falling apart, isn’t it?] [Pelicans indeed don’t eat people, and they aren’t fierce animals. Why is she so scared? Is she just using this as an excuse to get close to the billionaire?] [Playing the victim, duh. Our Sophia would never do that. Animals don’t lie. Look at the pelican letting Sophia pat its head without resisting at all.] …

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In my sophomore year of high school, during the second year of my massive crush on Liam, I transferred schools. That year, I hadn’t even managed to tell him my name. Years later, he became a household name, a massive pop star. And supposedly, he was still sweetly in love with his high school girlfriend, the former prom queen. When we crossed paths again, I lowered my head in disappointment, but he called out to me. “Maya Lin.” “Long time no see.” 01 The year Liam started high school, our school’s anonymous confession page basically became the “Liam Era.” As one of the behind-the-scenes admins for the page, my workload increased by two-thirds every single day. These confession posts ranged from gentle to obsessive, from short and sweet to full-blown essays… Without exception, the main character was always one person: Liam. Some even included blurry, secretly taken photos. The guy in the pictures was the only one who didn’t look like a total dork in his uniform. He had striking features and a straight back, completely out of place among the usual awkward high school boys. I played with my phone screen, scoffing at it all. What’s the point of liking a guy like this? Even a nine-grid photo collage wouldn’t be enough to fit all my rivals. Men, especially the handsome ones, are like the wind. What I needed to do wasn’t to try and catch the wind. But to be like a bird, flying against the wind, soaring toward freedom. So, sandwiched between the nine-grid confession posts, I published a post for my own missing MP3 player. “Looking for a white MP3 player, e-ink screen, paint chipped on the bottom right corner. Lost it after P.E.” “If anyone finds it, please text 555-0198. I would be incredibly grateful!” A minute later, a friend request popped up on my phone. Liam has requested to add you as a friend. “Hey, I found an MP3 player on the track that looks a lot like your description.” 02 Who actually uses their real name on Snapchat? I thought this guy’s handle being “Liam” was just a coincidence, but I still bought a box of granola and yogurt as a thank-you gift. Hardly anyone was at the ping-pong tables in the afternoon. The sun was bright today, so a lot of people had strung up lines to air out their blankets. I wove my way through the scent of laundry detergent from blanket after blanket. A figure in a P.E. uniform stood perfectly straight amidst a pile of white sheets. Tall, long legs, a clean and cool aura. The sunlight spilled onto his side profile, highlighting a high-bridged nose and mesmerizing eyes. Just from that one glance, my breathing slowed down. “Hey, is this the MP3 player you lost?” Even his voice was pleasant. Damn it, those blurry sneak shots submitted to the page didn’t capture even a tenth of his beauty! In that moment, I wasn’t some bird yearning for freedom. I was just a pure, unadulterated simp for a pretty face. A shallow creature whose morals were entirely dictated by aesthetics. “Hello?” “Hey?” Long, pale fingers waved in front of my face. I snapped out of the mesmerizing vortex of his good looks, my words tumbling out incoherently. “Huh? Oh, oh, oh, right, let me see.” Liam handed over a small velvet pouch. I took it, opened it, and there was my familiar MP3 player, resting safely inside. “It’s yours, right?” I turned my face away and nodded, suddenly too afraid to look him in the eye. My heartbeat was deafening; I was terrified that if I looked up, I’d give myself away. The more you feel something, the more you fear it. The more you fear something, the more you try to hide it. I pretended to be cool, my voice also turning cold: “The pouch, here you go. And this is for you. Thanks.” Those long fingers took the yogurt, but pushed the small velvet pouch back. Through the fabric, his fingers brushed against mine. I instantly looked over. “You’re welcome. You can keep the pouch.” “Also, when I found it, I accidentally saw the song playing on your screen.” “Great taste.” “I have to get back to practice. Good luck with your studies.” I stood there holding the velvet pouch, my fingers still burning from the brief touch. A back as straight as a pine tree, yet a presence that felt so wild and untamed. A few days later, he stood on the stage at the freshman orientation showcase. Holding a bass guitar, he was as wild and dazzling as a shooting star. The first song he played was the one that had been on the home screen of my MP3 player. “Why does the summer night wind blow, passing like a dream that cannot be chased.” 03 Liam stayed on my friends list. His profile picture was of him hugging a small Corgi. After the orientation showcase, he returned to a normal student life. No longer flashy, no longer fiery. He went from an ice-cold sparkling water to a warm, gentle glass of plain water. People would tease him about the spectacle on the confession page. He would just smile and dive back into his sea of textbooks. It was as if him on that stage that day had just been a dream. During the first midterms of the new semester, I stood in front of the bulletin board looking at the school-wide rankings. Two pieces of printer paper hung side-by-side: one for freshmen, one for sophomores. Freshman year, school-wide rank #1: Liam. Sophomore year, school-wide rank #1: Maya Lin. That afternoon during track practice, I intentionally followed him after we were dismissed. Pretending to have a super coincidental run-in. “Hey underclassman, congratulations, number one in the grade.” I didn’t think he would remember me. But I couldn’t find any other excuse to talk to him. Liam paused, and after clearly seeing my face, he smiled. “Oh, it’s you. Thanks.” “That yogurt last time was really good.” The early autumn wind rustled the leaves. Rustle, rustle. It plucked at my heartstrings. He remembered me. I was so happy that day I blew through ten math practice tests in a row. “Mr. Harris! Do you have any new practice tests?!” I raised my hand, my eyes burning with determination. A chorus of groans erupted around me. “Have mercy, brainiac! We haven’t even finished the first one yet.” “Mr. Harris, please don’t assign any more, I’m literally going to die!” The teacher looked at me apologetically: “Sorry, Maya, the math department hasn’t finished printing the new batch yet.” I rushed over to the physics department instead. After the midterms, the “Liam Era” got even crazier. I pushed my glasses up my nose and processed twenty-eight posts in a row. They were all from my rivals. The twenty-ninth post was from the prom queen, Chloe Snow, a senior in Class 1. A confession using her real name. Bright and brave. Jealousy spewed venom from my heart, trying to control my brain and my hands. That was the first time I wanted to abuse my power as an admin and delete a post. But I couldn’t do it. I had studied for so many years; my internal moral compass ruthlessly crushed my unwillingness. After that day, people started seeing her and Liam walking home together. A handsome boy and a beautiful girl, they were truly a sight for sore eyes. 04 More and more people spotted Liam and Chloe together. Including me. The girl had bright eyes and white teeth. When she smiled, she had a small mole inside her dimple. A few days later, I received a new submission. About Chloe. The girl in the photo only showed the lower half of her face, featuring the exact same mole in the dimple. Her bare shoulders were exposed as she sank deep into the bedding of a hotel room. Just from the corner shown in the photo, it left endless room for imagination. My heart skipped a beat. The person submitting it was using a brand-new burner account. The caption was just one sentence. “If a girl does something like this, how can she be a good person?” This sentence was leading. Given the current level of intimacy between Liam and Chloe… It was very easy for people to blame Liam. If this post was published, it would kill two birds with one stone. I immediately deleted the submission info and blocked the submitter. The next day, however, that post was still hanging on the confession page. The boring school atmosphere was instantly ignited. By the time I lifted my head from my sea of books, the thread already had over a hundred comments. There were three admins behind the confession page. A freshman guy, me (a sophomore), and a senior girl who had mostly stepped back. I quickly deleted the post and messaged the freshman. “Unverified information cannot be posted.” The freshman replied with a waving hand emoji: “Wasn’t me.” I vaguely felt something was wrong and checked the account login history. It only showed my device. If someone didn’t have a guilty conscience, why would they delete their own login history? I opened the chat interface, and the chat history with the submitter was also gone. The investigation hit a dead end. If I didn’t like Liam, I could have just walked away at this point. Who dates who, who flirts with who. None of that should be the concern of a good student like me. But, the more books I read, the more I favored the beautiful things in the world. Like the moonlight, like the starry sky. Like Liam. My rule-abiding youth was destined to be chaotic because of him. Although the post was deleted, the hurricane of public opinion spun harder and harder. Some sighed in relief, glad they only had a crush and never actually pursued him. Some cursed angrily, saying boys are really all the same, no good ones out there. Some mocked, saying they always knew he was just a poser. Those glaring red words gave me an unreal sense of detachment. It was as if the overwhelming love I had seen in the posts before was all fake. For the first time, I lied in class. Clutching my stomach, I said weakly: “Mr. Harris, I… I don’t feel well.” I’m a stubborn person who sticks to my own logic. I don’t easily believe what others want me to see. Whether Liam is a good person or not, I will find out for myself. Passing by the faculty office, I saw Liam’s mother. Most of Liam’s features were inherited from her. At that moment, those gentle eyes were full of hot tears, and she was kneeling in front of Chloe. That kneel almost suffocated Liam. I walked faster—classrooms, water fountains, the track field… The wind howled in my ears, a metallic taste tickling my throat. A walk home that normally took over ten minutes, I ran in five. Without stopping to catch my breath, I plugged in my laptop. The screen lit up, the bottom right corner showing 99+ notifications. I was still logged into the confession page account on my computer. Even if the history on the mobile app was deleted, the computer would still save it on the C drive. 05 I gathered the evidence and returned to school. When the senior admin walked out of her classroom, she spoke with surprise. “Maya, they said someone was looking for me earlier, I really didn’t expect it to be you.” “Senior, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” It had been cloudy all day, and as we walked on the track, it was starting to drizzle. I cut straight to the chase and showed her the screen recording. “Did you think that because you could delete the chat history, you didn’t even need to bother disguising yourself?” The second person to leak the info to the confession page was an account the senior admin managed. Even though she was careful enough to change it to a default avatar when sending the message. She quickly deleted the chat history after taking a screenshot. And deleted her login history before logging out. But I still found it. The senior admin’s face instantly went pale: “You… how could you?” I put away my phone: “How could I have the chat history, right?” “Because you told me before, you have to be diligent.” The boomerang of the past was now hitting her right between the eyes. The senior admin opened her mouth, wanting to argue, but couldn’t utter a single word. I pressed harder: “After I deleted the burner account’s post, wasn’t it too risky to use your main account directly?” “Or did you think that by deleting the history, everything would be fine, so you let your guard down?” The malice in her heart had been sliced open alive. The senior admin covered her face, crouched down, and tears slipped through her fingers. I remembered the girl in my memory—sunny, intellectual, warm-hearted. Although I couldn’t bear it, I still understood that you reap what you sow. If you make a mistake, you should admit it and apologize. Even a kindergartener understands this principle. “I’ll give you two choices.” “First, voluntarily post an apology. You can still use a screen name.” “Second, I submit the chat history to the school, and you’ll have to use your real name.” Ten minutes later, a new post was pinned to the top of the confession page. It was an apology post from the senior admin. The photo was AI-generated, a one-click undress edit. The root of everything she did was jealousy. Jealousy that Chloe had money, looks, and even got Liam. After the post went live, the discussion grew even more intense. The senior admin’s face was ashen. As she was leaving, she called out to me. “You did all this because you like Liam too, right.” “Don’t you understand why I did it?” I met her gaze frankly: “I understand, I’m jealous of Chloe too.” “I also have very ugly thoughts, but thoughts remain just thoughts.” “I didn’t act on them, not because I was scared.” “But because the essence of jealousy is looking up at someone. In truth, I just wanted to become a better version of myself.” “So, I wouldn’t torture myself by doing the wrong thing.” 06 On the way back to the classroom building, I turned on my MP3 player. At the last freshman orientation showcase, I recorded a lot of songs Liam sang. The rain started coming down harder. The stairwell during class time was exceptionally quiet. Chloe’s sobbing was distinct in that silence. Anyone would cry encountering such a messed-up situation at eighteen. But since she was a rival, I wasn’t magnanimous enough to go comfort her. Passing through the stairwell, I left a piece of candy from my pocket and walked away. In my earphones, Liam was still singing. “Save me, save me, grant me a lifetime of honor.” I smiled, looked up, and went upstairs. The next year, before spring even arrived, my mom asked for a divorce. Years of being a stay-at-home mom had worn away her beauty. When she left, I patted my dad on the shoulder. “Don’t cry, I’ll take good care of Mom.” Time seemed to hit the fast-forward button during my junior year. In the blink of an eye, the seventh year of liking Liam was approaching. He was still a dazzling star, exploding in popularity during my senior year with an original song. Then he got into a music conservatory, participated in music variety shows, started his own studio, and held his own concerts. More and more people liked him. Meanwhile, I kept following the rules: college entrance exams, grad school, enjoying my ordinary campus life. Sometimes I would think, if only I had been a little braver back then, just a little braver. I wouldn’t ask to be his friend. At the very least. Every time we bumped into each other, I could have calmly and firmly said one sentence: “Hello, Liam, my name is Maya Lin.” Unfortunately, there are no “what ifs.” Heaven and earth, we were destined to be two different kinds of people. I opened and closed his chat interface. The profile picture of Liam hugging the Corgi was almost burned into my retinas from looking at it so much. It’s no exaggeration to say that even if you gave me a hundred Corgis right now, I could spot which one was Liam’s at a glance. The year I started grad school, I worked hard to get into a university in the city where Liam lived. Going from an average state school directly to a top-tier Ivy League university. My mom happily hugged me and kissed me several times: “Baby, you’re amazing.” I smiled and didn’t say anything. Liam, look. In all these years you didn’t know about. To chase after you, I kept running forward, step by step, and I also became a better version of myself. 07 Life as a first-year grad student was still pretty busy. When I got back to the dorm from the lab, I was exhausted. My roommate, Lily, was also a fan of Liam’s. When she saw me come back, she excitedly rushed over. “Ahhhh, Maya! Did you see the school’s official TikTok account?!” I was confused: “No, what’s wrong?” My other two roommates, Mia and Tina, were also smiling mysteriously. I laughed along, not understanding why: “What’s wrong with you guys?” The next second, Lily pulled out a light stick. I recognized it; it was from Liam’s last concert. “You’ll never guess! The school’s freshman welcome gala this year is going to be a dedicated Liam concert!” The campus Wi-Fi has always been slow. When I opened TikTok, it kept loading and wouldn’t show anything. In just a few seconds, I closed and reopened it over a dozen times. Lily couldn’t stand watching anymore: “Don’t rush, Maya. The official WeChat account has it too. Go check WeChat first.” “Oh, okay.” I was just pretending to be calm. Actually, my hands were shaking. When the WeChat article finally opened, apart from the gala program list, there was a recruitment notice at the very bottom. [Recruitment: Part-time Spotlight Operator for the 2025 Freshman Welcome Gala] Being a spotlight operator is a highly demanding job, both physically and mentally. You have to control heavy machinery while constantly adjusting to the stage effects. Therefore, society generally assumes that women are not suited for it. When I appeared at the interview venue, the faculty member directly rejected my application. I argued my case, but through their biased lens, it was only seen as me being unreasonable. “Miss, if you underestimate the job and mess up our stage effects because of it, can you take responsibility?” But, did I have to be denied my capability without even being given the chance to interview? I wasn’t willing to accept that. “If you don’t let me try, how do you know I’m not capable?” “Why are you so stubborn, child? When I say no, it means no!” The teacher impatiently shoved me, trying to chase me out of the office. I was pushed so hard I stumbled, stumbling backward and bumping into someone. The person naturally pushed me back into the office. The familiar voice made my heart tremble. “Professor, I actually think this student could give it a try.” 08 The teacher immediately put on a smiling face. Liam took off his sunglasses and mask. He was wearing a white shirt and black pants, looking as clean as a breeze. “As the number one ranked university in the country, I would think your cultivation of talent must be unique and unconventional.” “Of course, of course. Come, sit down quickly, Liam.” The teacher pointed to the sofa, then frowned at me, signaling me to leave. The intense conversation from just a moment ago was still ringing in my ears. I really didn’t want Liam to see me looking so undignified. I lowered my head, tightly gripping the application form in my hand, turned around, and was about to leave. Liam was still standing behind me. As I passed him, he gently grabbed my arm. “Since you’re already being unconventional…” He paused for a moment, then continued: “Then having a female spotlight operator definitely wouldn’t be a strange thing either.” I instantly looked up. Liam was still smiling gently, but his tone held a firmness that left no room for refusal. The teacher sighed, and finally accepted my application form. I immediately bowed to thank him, unable to suppress the joy in my heart: “Thank you, Professor!” “Don’t thank me, thank Liam.” I quickly nodded in Liam’s direction to express my gratitude. I didn’t dare make eye contact. This crush was too obvious. I was afraid that one more glance would expose me. “Goodbye, Professor.” I walked briskly, almost jogging out of the office.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “395049”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My best friend fell hard for the ultimate campus heartthrob from Alpha U. She spent weeks throwing herself at him, but the guy wouldn’t even spare her a glance. Suddenly, she decided she was too lonely in her pursuit. Her brilliant solution? Push the heartthrob’s best friend onto me—the designated sickly drama queen of our group. I pointed to my pale, colorless lips. “Bestie, are you serious? Look at me. Do I look like I have the energy to chase anyone?” She deadpanned, “Getting a boyfriend is clinically proven to be good for your health. Consider it cardio.” Fine. In the end, we both started chasing. Fast forward a few weeks. The campus heartthrob texts my best friend, his tone utterly defeated: “Look, I’ll agree to go out with you. Just please, tell your best friend to take Alpha out of her block list. My dorm room is currently being flooded by tears.” 01 It only took one audit class at Alpha U for my best friend, Chloe Miller, to fall completely under the spell of their campus king, Hudson Grant. She spent weeks on a kamikaze mission to get his attention. The guy didn’t even give her a courtesy glance. Instead of quitting, she got more obsessed. It was like she was possessed. “That’s exactly the kind of guy I need,” she declared. “If they’re too easy to get, you don’t appreciate them later.” Because I’ve always been in poor health, my parents rented an off-campus apartment for me. Chloe lived with me. It was just after 9:00 PM, and a light rain was falling outside, when Chloe burst back into the apartment, arms loaded with shopping bags and a furious expression on her face. While kicking off her sneakers, she started venting. “Dammit! How can Hudson be so impossible to crack? I literally wore my ‘guaranteed-to-get-lucky’ outfit to see him today, and he still acted like a monk taking a vow of silence. Totally unfazed.” I looked away from the movie on my laptop to stare at her. She was wearing a stunning, tight red tube dress. I said softly, “Since he’s that hard to get, why not look at other guys? Plenty of people are chasing you.” “No, absolutely not.” She grabbed a soda from the fridge, flopped onto the sofa with no regards for elegance, and took a loud swig. “Hudson is different. Just looking at him gives me actual butterflies. And besides…” She covered her mouth, giggling like a complete creep. “His physique is insane. I saw him playing basketball the other day. Those abs, that V-line… he looks exactly like a romance novel cover come to life. Kissing him would definitely be an experience.” I went back to my movie. I couldn’t relate to her obsession. “Hey!” She gave a sly laugh and nudged me. “I got a photo.” Without waiting, she unlocked her phone, opened her photo album, and thrust it in my face. Confused, I took it. A man’s face filled the screen. He had intense, sharp eyes and a rugged, defined jawline. Very striking, but with a definite edge. It looked like a stalker photo she’d nicked from his social media. “So?” “Bestie, do you like what you see?” Chloe and I grew up together. The moment her eyebrows twitched, I knew exactly what kind of chaotic nonsense she was plotting. I pointed to my pale lips. “Bestie, are you asking me to chase someone, too? Look at me.” She blinked her bright, sparkly eyes and grabbed my hand. “Harper, those two guys are joined at the hip every single day. Someone needs to come in and separate them. Besides, I’m too lonely chasing Hudson by myself.” Putting on a pitiful face, she switched to a persuasive, maternal tone. “Just do it for me, to keep me company. Crucially, dating is good for your physical and mental health. Think of it as therapy.” The movie was still playing. On screen, the main character coincidentally said, “I can’t believe I’m listening to this crap!” The next second, my phone dinged. Chloe had text me the contact info for Hudson’s friend. “Trust me, Harper. You need to try this. He… well, he looks a bit scary, but he’s actually a decent guy.” I sighed. “Fine.” “I love you to death!” She leaned in to kiss me, then remembered she still had makeup on and hadn’t showered. “Wait until I shower, then I’m going to kiss you to death. Wait for me, baby!” Me: … While she was in the shower, I went to add him as a friend. I realized I had actually added him before. Huh? I stared down at his profile picture. It was a cartoon character—Bighead from Rocko’s Modern Life. Weird choice for a tough-looking guy. My username was a bit embarrassing, a remnant from middle school: QueenLazy. My profile pic was Patrick Star sleeping. I just wanted to sleep, eat well, and have zero worries. His username was Bighead24. My finger hovered over the screen. I thought: A guy who uses cartoon profile pics probably isn’t a bad person at heart. By the time Chloe came out, I had switched the movie to Spirited Away. I didn’t have many hobbies; anime and movies were among the few. “Harper, did you add him?” She walked out drying her hair, wearing a camisole nightgown. “Mhm.” I was absorbed in the anime, giving a distracted answer. Suddenly, I remembered something. I scratched my head. “Do I need to notify him that I’m chasing him?” “Hmm…” She thought about it. “Text him and ask if he’s single. If he says yes, then you say: ‘Would you mind if I added myself to the list of people who like you?’” “Huh?” I gave her a look of pure disgust. “Why does that sound so incredibly cheesy? Please don’t tell me that’s how you chase people.” “There are too many mind games these days,” she argued. “Only something simple and unadorned like this can make him feel your pure, innocent intentions. Do as I say, it’ll work.” “We call this… the polite approach before the invasion.” Despite feeling it was totally unreliable, I typed into the chat box: “Hi, quick question, do you have a girlfriend?” After hitting send, I figured it would be a long time before I got a reply, so I put the phone down to watch the anime. The next second, my phone buzzed. A message popped up: “?” “What if…” What if he just sends a question mark? What do I do with that? Before I could ask her, another message came through: “No.” I shivered slightly. Chloe leaned over. “Sister, send what I just taught you. I’m going to blow-dry my hair now.” “Fine.” From his end: “What about it?” Me: “Would you mind if I added myself to the list of people who like you?” The moment I sent it, I threw the phone away with a grimace. Too cringey. My phone remained silent for a long time, so I focused on the anime. After Chloe dried her hair, she lay down next to me, took out her phone, and asked, “Well? How’d it go?” I said honestly, “No reply.” She gritted her teeth, thinking. I thought she was reflecting on her dating advice, but instead she said, “It’s fine, totally normal. He didn’t reply to me at first either.” Me: … I wanted to say that maybe it was because my message was too intense, like a lightning bolt that left the other person utterly stunned and paralyzed. Chloe had an online group project meeting, so she started working hard on a PowerPoint presentation and video editing. I picked up my phone casually, and what I saw almost gave me a heart attack. Right then, Chloe mentioned, “By the way, his friend’s name is Austin. Austin Reed.” Austin: “Ugh, what is that supposed to mean? I don’t just accept anyone who decides they like me.” Austin: “I’m not that kind of easy guy.” Austin: “Does your silence mean you don’t like me anymore?” After that message, there was a minute of silence. He was probably waiting for my reply and got nothing. Austin: “Actually, I am pretty easy. Are you still chasing me?” Austin: “I’m actually very easy to get.” Another minute passed. He was panicking: “If you like me, let’s just be together.” Austin: “Sorry, I was just pretending to be cool back there.” Austin: “Are you busy? Can you just reply to me at least?” Austin: “Ten seconds have passed. Are you still busy?” Austin: “I said it wrong before. I should be the one chasing you, you don’t need to chase me. Can you just reply to me please?” Austin: “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have pretended to be cool like that. Actually, it’s just because I was too excited. I asked my bro, and he told me to reply that way.” Austin: “He said if I agreed too quickly, you’d get it too easily and wouldn’t appreciate me.” Austin: “Baby, I was wrong. Don’t be mad, okay?” Austin: “Actually baby, I’ve liked you for a really long time, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I never expected you to like me back.” … Me: “…” Chloe asked, “What’s wrong? Did he reply?” I pursed my lips, silent for a moment. I asked her, “Isn’t the other person supposed to reject you when you chase them?” “Yes.” Then what was this? A flash of inspiration hit me. I texted him: “Reject me.” That way, I would have a reason to actually chase him, and I wouldn’t leave my best friend hanging alone. Austin texted back with a crying emoji: “No, I don’t want to reject you.” Austin: “I really messed up. I hate myself for trying to act tough back there.” Austin: “I shouldn’t have pretended, I shouldn’t have listened to my bro. I know I was wrong. You can hit me or yell at me, just don’t make me reject you.” Me: … “No, you reject me, then I chase you.” Austin didn’t reply as fast this time. The status bar at the top kept showing “typing…” After a long while, he carefully sent: “Baby, is this some kind of roleplay kink?” Austin: “You promise you won’t actually leave me.” Austin: “Then how long do you plan on chasing me? You have to tell me so I can get ready.” I glanced at my best friend, who was still working hard, and text back: “Don’t know yet.” Austin: “Then… Baby, I reject you.” Austin: “This sentence is a reply to your previous prompt, not a reply based on my actual feelings.” After reading that, I could finally tell Chloe, “He rejected me.” Chloe leaned over. “It’s fine. We women must have magnanimity. Wait until later, and your sister here will teach you some tricks for the chase.” Then, I watched her with my own eyes as she switched to a high-pitched, cutesy voice and sent Hudson a voice note: “So, are you going to help me and my best friend save seats tomorrow? We want to watch you play basketball from up close!” I quietly went online to search for “how to chase a guy.” A blog listed several points: Master the pull-and-push; don’t be too eager. Be hot and cold; if he’s hot, you’re hot. If he’s cold, ignore him for a while. Establish a good persona; act appropriately innocent. Never become a desperate clinger (a ‘licking dog’). … I asked Chloe, “Did you look up your dating techniques online?” “Ha.” She confidently flipped her hair. “Does your sister look like she needs to copy someone else’s moves?” No wonder she hadn’t succeeded after so long. Turns out she was being taught by a complete amateur. 02 The next afternoon, right after class, Chloe dragged me along her well-worn path over to Alpha U. By the time we arrived at the gym, it was already packed with people. She spotted someone, her fox-like eyes lighting up. She waved at the guy. “Hudson!” I was still searching through the crowd when she pulled me over. The guy was wearing a sleeveless black and white jersey. He looked aloof. I had never actually seen Hudson Grant in person, only on Chloe’s phone. Since I was a kid, due to my health, I didn’t like going out much. “Harper, if you feel unwell at all, tell me immediately. It’s a bit crowded in here, the air might not be circulating well.” She leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Okay.” I gave her a thumbs-up. Just as we were about to walk away, we heard Hudson turn to another guy and ask, “Where’s Austin?” “No idea. Haven’t seen him all day.” The next second, a guy pointed to the entrance, his jaw dropping. “Holy crap. Is that Austin Reed? What is he wearing?” Everyone instinctively looked over. I saw a very tall guy with a stylish American-style blowout haircut. He had a stud in his left ear and looked like a total bad boy. “What… what happened to him? It’s only been one afternoon. Did he seriously go get a whole new hairstyle?” “Who provoked him this time?” From the moment Austin entered, his gaze darted left and right, until he couldn’t help but lock onto a flash of pink in the crowd—me. No, he had to play this right. He started walking straight toward me, but veered off halfway. Just as Chloe was about to pull me along, a girl clapped Hudson on the shoulder from behind. “Hey, Hudson. I thought you said you were saving seats for us?” The girl speaking had shoulder-length hair and was followed by a few other girls. “Who’s that?” I asked. The smile on Chloe’s face faded. “His childhood best friend. They grew up together.” I didn’t like talking to people, but I loved reading novels. Right then, I could smell a strong scent of ‘fake-innocent drama queen’ in the air. A term immediately popped into my head: “The Sister-Zone.” “Ugh…” Austin was still fighting the urge to come over and talk to me, but before he could, Chloe dragged me away. Her mood had gone from sunny to overcast. “Out of sight, out of mind.” I quickly looked back and caughtAustin’s crestfallen expression. He looked exactly like my mom’s Golden Retriever when she wouldn’t give him a treat—utterly pitiful eyes. “Over there… just go sit yourself down…” Hudson lifted his head and pointed out the seats to the girl,宋沫 (Mia). Austin, with a dark expression, walked right past Hudson, deliberately bumping his shoulder. Hudson was stunned for a moment. “Are you on drugs or something?” Austin silently stripped off his outer jacket. Some girls came over to talk to him, but were stopped cold by his glare. … In our seats, I tentatively asked Chloe, “How is he with that girl Mia?” Hearing this, Chloe glanced at me, pursing her lips. “I don’t know how to describe it. But wherever Hudson is, she’s there too.” Speak of the devil, and she appears. Mia and her entourage walked over. Hudson, that idiot, had actually saved a whole row of seats. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them. Sigh. Love is blind. Before the starting buzzer sounded, Austin text me several messages: “Why aren’t you talking to me? Didn’t you say you were chasing me?” “Are you not chasing me anymore? Then can I switch and chase you?” “I’m about to go on court. You have to keep your eyes on me.” I looked down, and coincidence would have it that Austin was looking right up at our section. Beside me, a few girls started whispering: “Austin Reed looked over here. Mia, is he looking at you?” “I’m so jealous that you have two such handsome childhood friends.” Mia’s cheeks flushed slightly, a hint of smugness in her eyes. “Oh stop it, it’s not what you think.” Chloe let out a cold snort next to me. I calmly retracted my gaze. Austin’s uplit grin immediately slumped back into a frown. Once the game started, I got bored because I didn’t understand basketball. My ears were filled with screams and cheers, or the sounds of girls chattering about who was hotter. Suddenly, Austin made a massive three-pointer that set the entire arena on fire. The young man’s face was flushed with the exertion of the game. His exposed arms were defined, muscular, and nice to look at. He instinctively looked up toward us again, causing another round of gasps from the girls near me. “Is his girlfriend here? Why is he looking over here so many times?” From the right came a voice filled with envy: “Mia, if both Hudson and Austin liked you, who would you choose?” “They’re both so hot, it’s such a hard choice!” “Oh stop it, you guys! Just watch the game, don’t talk nonsense!” Sitting next to me, Chloe turned to me and silently mouthed the word: “Fake.” When the game ended, Chloe turned to me. “Harper, you stay sitting right here. I’ll be right back.” With that, I watched her run down with a bottle of water, while Mia on the other side had also disappeared. I sat obediently at the top. The guy wearing the black and white jersey was cutting against the crowd, coming straight up toward me. I watched, unblinking, as Austin Reed walked right up and sat in the empty seat next to me. Seeing this, he laughed. “I thought you said you were chasing me? Where’s my water?” “Sorry, first time chasing someone. No experience.” My voice was soft, but my eyes didn’t show much apology. Austin had just finished playing; he was breathing heavily, his chest heaving slightly. Hearing that, he actually laughed from exasperation. He tilted his head back, taking a swig of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He was already the bad boy type, and with his eyes slightly rimmed with red and his face flushed, he looked utterly captivating and alluring right now. He wiped some sweat, seemingly resigned, and leaned his head down close to me. He whispered, “Stop torturing me, baby.” “Let’s just make it official right now, okay?” The male pheromones were too strong. I couldn’t help leaning my whole body backward. “Sit up properly.” I used my finger to poke his chest. I tilted my head and asked him, “You like me?” He immediately sat up straight, nodding with utmost sincerity. “But…” My voice shifted, and I pointed down to where Mia was standing in a sailor-style outfit. “What’s the deal with her? I heard you guys are childhood friends.” Austin looked at me with his pitch-black eyes and explained, “Mia, Hudson, and I did grow up together, but we are strictly just normal friends.” “Really?” My gaze drifted over behind him to Mia, whose expression was priceless. She was gritting her teeth, staring at me. She hissed out, “Austin Reed!” “I was wondering where you went. I looked all over down there for you. Turns out you’re up here abandoning your friends for a girl!” I watched them both without saying a word. Austin pursed his lips and turned away. “I already told you I don’t drink water from just anyone. Only from my girlfriend.” “I… am I just ‘anyone’ to you? We grew up together! What’s wrong with me giving you water? Does having a girlfriend mean we can’t even be friends anymore?” Instantly, Mia’s eyes welled up with red. She gritted her teeth, looking incredibly pitiful. I looked at Austin. He spoke up: “I didn’t say we can’t be friends just because I have a girlfriend. It just means there needs to be some boundaries between us.” Mia looked at me with her red rimmed eyes, her voice shaking with tears. “I didn’t see you just now. I didn’t know you were his girlfriend. I made things awkward. I’m sorry.” Wow. Straight out of the gate she was pinning a ‘jealous girlfriend’ label on me. Spending all my time cooped up at home, I’d only read about these inner palace dramas and female leads battling fake-innocent girls in books. I’d never experienced it in real life. Looks like theory was about to be put into practice. I was ready for battle.

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Three years after my death, Julian finally started going on blind dates. But he brought our kid to every single one, and he couldn’t go three sentences without talking about baby purees. I was so annoyed. I decided to make some noise to give him a good scare. Instead, my daughter pointed a chubby finger at me and blinked. “Daddy, over there, there’s a…” Before she could finish, Julian peeled a shrimp, popped it into her mouth, and stared straight ahead. “There’s nothing over there.” 01 Huh? Was there something around me? I looked left and right, but there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Forget it. I slowly drifted closer to them. Just in time to see Julian take off the wedding band from his left ring finger and slip it into his pocket. Good. He finally remembered he was here for a blind date. After all, no one likes a guy who’s still hung up on his dead ex-wife. I floated around our daughter, Mia, and made a bunch of ugly faces at Julian, but neither of them reacted. Looks like they really couldn’t see me. So, I just plopped down in the empty seat right next to the woman sitting across from him. She seemed pretty satisfied with Julian, a polite smile playing on her lips. “I can accept the child. But in return, I’ll need some… compensations outlined in the prenuptial agreement.” Honestly, aside from having a kid, Julian was a massive catch. The sole heir to the combined Vance and Sterling corporate empires. Six-foot-two, broad shoulders, narrow waist—handsome in a dark, slightly arrogant, intellectual kind of way. When we were kids, I used to pull my punches when we fought just because of that face, leaving only a few bruises on his back instead of giving him a black eye. Julian finished peeling the last shrimp and dropped it into Mia’s bowl. Then, he slowly and methodically wiped his hands with a napkin, his tone completely indifferent. “No problem.” “But I sleep hugging my late wife’s urn every night, and I spend three hours every Sunday purifying myself to honor her memory. Oh, right, and you can’t wear white. It’s bad luck.” The woman fell dead silent. Her eyes drifted down to the crisp white dress shirt Julian was wearing under his suit jacket. She gritted her teeth. “So, what color is your shirt? A kaleidoscopic white?” She had too much class. If it were me, I would have already started throwing sarcastic daggers. Julian looked mildly surprised. “Oh, this is white? My apologies. I’m colorblind.” Ha. What a load of crap. Finally, the woman reached her limit, grabbed her designer bag, and stormed out. Mia hopped down from her chair and waved her little hand like a pro. “Bye-bye, lady! Grandma says Daddy’s head doesn’t work right.” 02 The date was a bust. Julian drove Mia home. In the car, Mia was full from dinner and dozing off in the backseat. I hovered over her, pretending to hold her in my arms. She was already five. She looked more and more like Julian every day, except for the shallow dimples at the corners of her mouth—she got those from me. It’s such a shame. I only got to be with her for two years. The space where my heart used to be felt incredibly empty. Ghosts can’t cry. It’s really annoying. I looked up and caught Julian’s gaze in the rearview mirror. He glanced at me, then quickly looked away, staring straight at the road. I drifted into the passenger seat up front, stretching lazily like I used to when I was alive. “You know, you’re getting up there in years. If you don’t find someone soon, by the time you’re old, nobody’s going to want you. Might as well use what little good looks you have left to marry yourself off.” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the wedding band was back on the ring finger of his left hand. “Hah.” I leaned in for a closer look. “When we got those rings custom-made, you said this one was just ‘average.’ Why are you treating it like a precious treasure now?” “Heh, I guess as you get older, the only thing that stays tough is that stubborn mouth of yours.” As expected, no response. I was just talking to myself. Boring. When I was alive, bickering with Julian every day turned me into someone who loved a good argument. Now that I’m a ghost, being stuck in the living world by myself is incredibly dull. I gave up and just stared out the window at the passing scenery. Suddenly, I heard a very soft murmur from Julian: “You think I’m old?” I didn’t quite catch it, so I leaned in closer, curious. “What are you mumbling about? You sound like a buzzing mosquito.” Julian didn’t say another word, but the corners of his mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. Weirdo. Just as it got quiet, Julian’s phone rang. It was a group voice call from a chat called “The Mia Protection Squad.” I came up with that name. When he answered, there were already four people on the line—my parents and his parents. “Julian, honey, how did the meeting go today?” The one asking was my mom. 03 The Vance and Sterling families were old friends, and our houses were close. So Julian and I grew up together. We were childhood sweethearts, technically. But we were the chaotic, fighting kind. If I climbed a tree, he’d kick the trunk. If he went swimming, I’d hide his towel. Basically, we grew up treating each other like sworn enemies. When we grew up and took over our respective family businesses, we constantly sabotaged each other in the corporate world, just to prove who was better. But somehow, our parents decided we needed to get married. Since we didn’t actively hate each other, we just went along with it. A year after we got married, Mia was born. Three years after we got married, I died. After I died, the weight of both the Vance and Sterling empires fell entirely onto Julian’s shoulders. He had four aging parents to care for, and a child to raise. He did a pretty damn good job. He didn’t use the opportunity to swallow up the Sterling Group, and he treated my parents and Mia incredibly well. So, he’s spent three years mourning me. That’s more than enough. My parents couldn’t bear to see him alone for the rest of his life. Plus, I had dropped a few hints in their dreams, so they recently started setting him up on blind dates. Sigh. People have to move forward. Even ghosts do. Julian let out a soft laugh, his tone gentle. “Mom, these things take time. I’m driving Mia home right now, so I’ve gotta go.” My mom sighed over the speaker. “You kids… alright, alright. Remember to bring Mia over for dinner next weekend.” Julian agreed and said nothing else. The parents chatted for a bit longer, and the call only ended when the car pulled into our gated community. Julian reached into the back seat, scooped Mia up, and rested her against his chest. As we walked, he patted her back gently, his voice softer than a summer breeze. “Little baby, we’re home. Let’s take a bath and go to sleep, okay?” I drifted behind him, watching Mia slowly peel her eyelids open. She’d had a great temperament since she was a baby. No crankiness when waking up. Maybe because both her parents were like sticks of dynamite, having a kid turned out to be like having a tiny fire extinguisher. “Daddy, Mommy is here.” Mia rubbed her eyes, trying her hardest to keep them open, but they drooped half-shut again. Julian didn’t break his stride. “Mm-hmm. Mommy is always here.” 04 The house looked exactly the same as it did three years ago. Nothing had changed. My favorite knick-knacks and plushies were exactly where I left them. My clothes still hung in the closet. Even the bedding in the master bedroom was a set I had picked out. Julian… was surprisingly sentimental. I floated nearby, listening to Julian read Mia a bedtime story. He was a lot better at it than he was three years ago. It didn’t take long for Mia to fall fast asleep. When she fell asleep, she was still clutching the cherry-print pajamas I bought her. My heart ached looking at her. I hopped onto the bed, lying down next to her, pretending to pull her into my arms. Why couldn’t I touch her? Being a ghost is so frustrating. I needed to ask Hades if there was any way, any spell, that would let me touch her just once. If it was a matter of money, that was no problem. Over the last few years, Julian and both sets of parents had burned a mountain of “hell money” for me. I used that cash to team up with some other rich ghost-girlfriends and started a real estate empire in the Underworld. I was practically the richest ghost down there now. The fact that I could come up to the living world and stay for a few days this time was only because I’d accumulated three years of good karma and spent an astronomical amount of spirit money for the privilege. It was just so I could see them one last time before I reincarnated. I didn’t stay by Mia’s side for too long. Ghosts carry a heavy aura of negative energy. It’s bad for the living, especially kids. So, I sneakily—well, openly, since no one could see me—drifted into the bathroom. Julian was taking a shower. Through the steamy mist, the water traced every sculpted line of muscle on his body, flushing his skin a faint pink. Three years hadn’t changed a thing. That body was still incredibly distracting. I audibly gulped. I looked at him from behind, from the side, and finally just floated right in front of him for a full frontal view. Julian leaned one hand against the wet tile, running the other through his dripping, dark hair. “Scarlett, you died way too early. We didn’t even get to finish trying everything in your 100 Ways to Spice Up the Shower manual.” He was smiling, staring dead-on in my direction, as if he were actually talking to me. My ghost-face turned burning hot. I instantly started cursing him out. “You shameless dog! I’ve been dead for three years! Can’t you leave me a shred of dignity? I’m asking you, can you?” After my rant, I floated right out of the bathroom. I definitely couldn’t keep watching that. Thinking back to when Julian and I were in bed together… Neither of us ever wanted to submit to the other. He would pin me down and demand I call him “Daddy.” I would bite his shoulder and demand he call me “Mistress.” To win the war of dominance, I specifically looked up that 100 Ways to Spice Up the Shower manual, determined to conquer him. I never expected it. That was the first time that bastard ever yielded to me. He praised my research skills to the high heavens. He even suggested I find manuals for the bedroom, the living room, the kitchen… Ugh, absolutely insufferable. 05 After Julian finished his shower, he half-lay in bed, reading a book called The Encyclopedia of Parenting. He rarely wore his glasses. But wearing them gave him a very “sophisticated villain” look. I floated next to him, staring at his face. He was still handsome, but it seemed like he had a few fine lines around the corners of his eyes now. “There’s actually a perk to being a ghost. Your appearance freezes at the age you died. So, I still look very young.” Saying this, I floated down and sat right on top of him, gazing down at his face. “Heh heh, which means you look a lot older than me now. You’re out of my league! How about that? I finally won!” Julian suddenly closed his book and took off his glasses. Then he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Scarlett, how could you be so cruel? In three years, you’ve only visited my dreams exactly once.” His voice sounded exhausted, like he was genuinely blaming me. He wasn’t wrong, though. I had only visited his dreams once. And that was to strictly lay down the law: he had to mourn me, properly, for at least three years. He had looked thoughtful, then smiled with red-rimmed eyes. “And if I moved on immediately, would you get so mad you’d come back to life?” Without a second thought, I beat the absolute crap out of him in that dream. I never visited his dreams again after that. Thinking about it, I muttered to myself. “Wasn’t it because I was afraid my charm was too overpowering? If I visited your dreams too often, you’d never be able to move on.” “After all, I, Scarlett Sterling, might not be the most beautiful woman in the world, but I’m definitely top-tier in the state. Back then, the line of guys wanting to marry me could wrap around the earth three times. I only picked you because I thought you’d be easy to bully.” As I spoke, I leaned close to his face, making a pinching motion at his cheek. “Get it?” He suddenly opened his eyes, looking directly at where I was hovering. He let out a soft, low chuckle. “Oh? You really think you’re that irresistible?” 06 My heart gave two violent thumps—if I still had a beating heart, that is. Could Julian actually see me? But if the Day Patroller gods found out a mortal could see me, they’d deport me back to the Underworld immediately. All this effort would have been for nothing. But the next second, Julian said, “Are you tired of hanging on the wall for three years? Want me to swap you out for someone else?” It was only then I realized he was talking to the massive wedding portrait hanging on the wall behind me. In the photo, I was forcing a fake smile, while Julian had a faint, genuine smirk. Instantly, I was furious. “Oh, I see how it is! You’ve wanted to find a new wife this whole time, huh? It’s just that none of your blind dates were good enough for you!” But as soon as the words left my mouth, I felt like a crazy person. I was the one who asked our parents to set him up. I was the one who wanted him to find a new partner. Yet, hearing him say it still made my chest ache. I was conflicted enough when I was alive; why was my ghost-brain still fighting with itself? So annoying. I was so annoyed I made a series of grotesque ghost faces at Julian. I even morphed my face to mimic the gruesome state I was in when I died, trying to scare him. Julian suddenly stopped looking at the wedding portrait and buried his face back in his book. Perfect timing—his phone rang. I glanced at the screen. It was Liam calling. He was a friend we grew up with. He had a gentle personality. When we were kids, he’d always try to break up Julian and my fights, and somehow, he always ended up catching the most stray punches. Julian answered, and Liam’s familiar, warm voice came through. “Jules, a friend recommended a highly respected psychiatrist. You should bring your meds and—” He was cut off before he could finish. “Busy. Hanging up.” Julian ended the call abruptly. I floated there, stunned for a moment, a single question circling my mind: Why does Julian need to see a psychiatrist? After spinning in circles for a while, I decided to go into Liam’s dreams and ask him. Knowing Julian’s personality, even if I visited his dreams and asked him directly, he would absolutely lie just to save face. 07 Liam told me that Julian had developed severe PTSD and clinical depression. He had to take massive doses of medication every night just to fall asleep. I was shocked. But thinking back on the details, it made tragic sense. After all, Julian had witnessed a brutal murder. He watched me die right in front of him. Any normal person would have psychological trauma from that. But he had always acted so casual, so flippant. He hid it so well that everyone just ignored the possibility. Liam also mentioned that Julian was planning to kill himself as soon as Mia grew up and became independent. I fell completely silent. That was absolutely not going to happen. So, I made a quick trip back to the Underworld and begged Hades to let me borrow something. 08 I was determined to find a reliable partner for Julian. So, after returning to the living world, I spent days observing Julian. And Maya. Maya was my secretary when I was alive. She had just been hired full-time when she and I were attacked together. Then, I, the boss, died, and Julian took over the company. Right now, she was in the executive lounge, playing with a toy BBQ set with Mia. “Your daddy’s meeting is almost over. Just wait a little longer, okay?” Saying this, she pulled a small box from her pocket. She opened it to reveal a beautiful jade pendant. It looked expensive. It probably cost her several months’ salary. Maya slipped the pendant around Mia’s neck and tucked it under her shirt. “Wishing little Mia a lifetime of peace and safety.” Even though Mia didn’t understand the value of the jade, she politely said, “Thank you, Ms. Maya.” Then she asked quietly, “Ms. Maya, can I hug you?” Maya froze for a second, then slightly opened her arms. Mia immediately threw herself into Maya’s arms, pressing her ear against her chest. “It’s beating so fast!” Maya’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. At that exact moment, the lounge door opened, and Julian walked in. “Sorry for the trouble.” “I heard Apex Corp is trying to poach you? If the position and salary are right, you should consider it. I told you a long time ago, you don’t need to stay at Vance Enterprises out of gratitude or guilt.” …How could this guy speak so coldly? Maya stood up, ramrod straight, and replied: “Understood, Mr. Vance. I know.” Julian nodded and started packing up Mia’s things. Maya watched his back, muttering softly, “Actually, it’s not entirely because of that…” She liked Julian, but for complex reasons, she didn’t dare say it. I could see it clearly. I had been observing her from every angle these past few days. Not only was she still excellent at her job, but she also knew Julian’s personal preferences. She knew he only took half a spoonful of sugar in his coffee, she knew he preferred dark-colored ties… Most importantly, she was incredibly sweet to Mia, and it came from a genuine place. Furthermore, she had my heart beating inside her chest. And Julian really needed to let go of his feelings for me and live a good life. Sigh. Looks like I have to handle this myself. I slowly pulled out a red string. This was the Red Thread of Fate. Once tied, Julian would forget his romantic feelings for me and fall in love with Maya. 09 I tied one end of the red string around Maya’s wrist. Then I floated over to Julian, ready to tie the other end. But my hands hesitated. I hovered there for a long time. Just as I finally steeled myself and was about to loop the string around his wrist, I heard him ask Maya: “How are the preparations for our wedding venue coming along?” Their wedding venue? What did that mean? Did this mean they didn’t need the red string? They were already engaged? Startled, the red string slipped from my ethereal fingers. I didn’t manage to tie it. Maya immediately replied: “We’re currently at 100% completion. It matches the traditional style you requested perfectly. The 3D renderings and the promotional rollout plan are already on your desk…” … Oh. They were talking about a corporate project. I rolled my invisible eyes and prepared to try tying the string on Julian again. But he happened to turn around, scooped Mia up, and walked out of the lounge. So I grabbed a handful of empty air. And because the two of them were no longer in the same room, I couldn’t successfully tie the knot. I chased after Julian furiously, yelling at him: “Ahhh! I was so close! You were this close to forgetting me, you jerk!” His footsteps inexplicably faltered for a second, but then he kept walking. I was just about to keep yelling when my ears were assaulted by an ear-piercing ringtone. “Hades wants your soul! Hades wants your soul!” Yes, we have Wi-Fi in the Underworld, and ghosts have smartphones. I nervously pulled my phone out of thin air. As soon as I answered, the roar from the other end nearly blew my eardrums out. “Are you done with your living-world business yet?! I went through hell to steal this Red Thread from Cupid’s pocket! Use it quickly before he notices!” “Your three-year death anniversary is in a few days! If you pass the three-year mark, not only can you not reincarnate, your soul will completely dissipate! Stop stalling! Also! You have a mandatory medical checkup the day after tomorrow. You must come back!” I held the phone away from my ear, nodding furiously. “Yes, yes, I’m almost done! I promise! I guarantee I’ll be back the day after tomorrow!” After finally hanging up, I sighed. “How am I supposed to leave without worrying?” I floated anxious circles around Julian and Mia. Finally, I muttered to myself: “No way. I have to visit his dreams tonight and give him a serious talking-to.”

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On the bullet train, a guy with an incredibly clean-cut, handsome vibe sat next to me. Just before I got off, as I was putting on my backpack, he suddenly asked: “Are you still in college? Which school do you go to?” I gave a slight smirk and casually bragged: “Yeah, Columbia University.” The handsome guy’s eyes lit up: “I can give you a ride. It’s on my way. I’m a professor at Columbia.” I froze. Don’t they say you can invent whatever identity you want when you travel? Did he just invent his identity too? I crossed my arms and forced a polite smile: “No thanks, Professor. I’m going to NYU first to meet my boyfriend.” The handsome professor was silent for two seconds, then nodded seriously: “That’s even more on my way. I’m picking someone up at NYU too.” 1 I stood frozen in place, my smile almost slipping off my face. I finally gathered the courage to act a little unhinged, and the universe decided to smack me right back. How could he be a professor? He looked younger than me, and his hairline was flawless. Seeing my dumbfounded expression, he gently pulled a card from his breast pocket. It was blue and white, clearly displaying his ID photo and name. Even on a standard ID photo, he looked more breathtaking than those heavily photoshopped influencers online. Clean vibe, nice name. His name was Liam Reed. Underneath the photo were two small words: Faculty. Goddammit, it seemed his identity wasn’t invented at all. I averted my gaze and nodded, bracing myself: “Well… sorry to trouble you then, Professor Reed.” He gave me a warm, gentle smile and stood up, his tall shadow enveloping me. Long legs, narrow waist, perfect posture—but I was in no mood to drool. When we got off the train, he intentionally walked beside me, thoughtfully reminding me not to get lost in the crowd. His car was parked right at the station—a sleek, understated black Audi A8. The interior was spotless, with a faint, crisp, clean scent in the air. It smelled so good that when he wasn’t looking, I couldn’t help but take a deep breath. I didn’t say a single word the whole ride, terrified he would ask me more questions. I was actually a seasoned corporate drone who had been in the workforce for years. I only got mistaken for a college student because I still dressed like one. And stupidly, my big mouth just had to pretend to be a Columbia overachiever. I just wanted to leave a memorable impression on a handsome guy during a train ride. Now, this was going to be more memorable for me than for him. The car was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. Liam focused on driving, his tone as natural as if he were dropping off one of his own students: “Which department are you in? What year?” My back stiffened. My brain went into overdrive as I stubbornly kept up the lie: “…Just, uh, regular liberal arts. Senior year.” “I feel so bad making you go out of your way to drop me off. Could you just let me off at the subway station?” He smiled faintly: “It’s on my way. It’s only right for a professor to give a student a ride.” I quietly crumbled inside, burying my head even lower. It might be on your way, but it’s not on mine. The direction I needed to go was the complete opposite of Columbia. Thinking about how I’d have to miserably take the subway all the way across the city later… I wanted to slap my past bragging self in the face. Liam kept his eyes on the road. The sleeves of his dress shirt were casually rolled up to his forearms. His side profile was ridiculously handsome. But I had no mind to admire it; all I could think about was getting out of this car as soon as possible. He suddenly spoke up again: “Aren’t you afraid I’m a fake and I’m going to kidnap you?” 2 Wait, that was actually a possibility. Why did I just blindly get into his car earlier? This was way too dangerous! I suddenly gripped my seatbelt tightly, looked at him nervously, and asked: “Would… would you?” He laughed out loud. When he smiled, his eyes crinkled in a way that was incredibly attractive. “I wouldn’t. My identity is 100% real. You can look me up online.” Since he said that, I decided to actually look him up. I looked down at my phone, searched his name and the university, and his photo actually popped up. In the photo, he was wearing a crisp white dress shirt, standing in front of a campus building. High nose bridge, sharp jawline—not aggressive, but exceptionally good-looking. His eyes and his smile in the photo were exactly the same as the man sitting next to me. The article detailed the various academic achievements he had accomplished at such a young age. I was absolutely stunned reading it. My fingertip hovered over the screen, and it took me a long time to snap back to reality. When I looked up at him again, my heart skipped a beat. He smiled warmly, turning his head to glance at me, but the question he asked was completely devoid of warmth: “You’re a senior, so you’ve already started writing your thesis, right? What topic did you choose?” I felt like my heart had leaped into my throat. My brain short-circuited, going completely blank. Senior? Thesis? Why did I say I was a senior?! How was I supposed to know what topic to pick? I had completely forgotten what my own college thesis was even about. My brain spun at lightning speed, and I stammered for a good while. I haltingly recited the topic of my actual thesis from years ago: “That… the emotional narrative and… audience psychology of… shipping TV couples.” As soon as the words left my mouth, my face turned bright red. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t do anything productive in college except obsess over fictional ships. The hand Liam used to grip the steering wheel paused for a half-second. He turned his head to look at me again, a very faint smile dancing in his eyes. “TV couples? I actually dabble in that area. I could give you some guidance…” I was completely dumbfounded. Thank God the car was already approaching the NYU campus gates. I was practically steaming with anxiety and quickly interrupted him: “Professor Reed, you can just pull over up ahead! My boyfriend should be waiting for me at the gate. I can walk over myself!” He spoke at a leisurely pace: “It’s fine. I’m actually early. I’ll wait until I see your boyfriend pick you up before I leave.” 3 Help. I couldn’t sit still anymore. In broad daylight, where was I going to produce a living, breathing boyfriend to pick me up? Suddenly, I thought of a specific useless man and furiously texted him. “Come to the NYU gate and pick me up. You have FIVE MINUTES! I’ll cover for you at the next family gathering when they bug you about getting married!” Thank goodness my younger uncle owned a vet clinic nearby. It would only take him five minutes to run over. He was only three years older than me; pretending to be my boyfriend shouldn’t be a problem. At that moment, Liam smoothly pulled the car over a short distance from the NYU gate. He patiently turned off the engine. His long, elegant fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel. He even thoughtfully inquired about my “boyfriend’s” studies: “What is your boyfriend majoring in? I might know his advisor.” God, what did my boyfriend major in? God is too clueless, he can’t read minds. I hemmed and hawed for a while, and finally beautified my uncle’s veterinary degree. “Oh, he’s in pre-med.” Liam nodded thoughtfully and said evenly: “That’s very demanding, but he has a bright future.” I let out two dry laughs and didn’t continue the conversation, silently praying for my uncle to appear quickly. Fortunately, he didn’t bring up any more academic topics after that. He just casually asked about my life, acting exactly like a caring, fatherly figure. Adhering to the principle of “the more you say, the more mistakes you make,” I kept my answers as brief as possible. But perhaps because my responses were too cold, Liam’s expression cooled down a bit too. Finally, my uncle appeared. It was literally just a few minutes’ walk, yet he insisted on driving his flashy, obnoxious sports car. He revved the engine and slid to a stop by the curb. The window rolled down, revealing a face topped with blinding, bleached-blonde hair. The clothes he was wearing looked like they were stolen from a homeless shelter, ripped and tattered. I was instantly stunned. I hadn’t seen him in a month. How did he turn himself into this? I shot a mortified glance at Liam. My face was burning; it was so embarrassing. But I couldn’t care about that now. I grabbed the door handle, ready to make my escape. “Um, Professor Reed, my boyfriend is here. I’ll be going now.” But he unhurriedly unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door. His tone was very calm: “As a professor, I need to see you safely into the car.” As the door opened, the wind blowing in felt chilly. 4 Liam followed me to my uncle’s car. Only when I got closer did I realize there was a woman sitting in the passenger seat, sporting an equally eye-searing look. Heavy smoky eye makeup, hair as messy as a bird’s nest. It was my fault for not explaining things clearly to my uncle earlier. This was definitely his new girlfriend. I didn’t have time to care about all that. I bit the bullet and whined to my uncle: “Babe, what took you so long? You made the professor wait with me.” The usual slacker look on my uncle’s face was instantly replaced by terror. He stared at me wide-eyed. I frantically winked and gestured at him with my chin. He instantly understood. But the next second, he received a hard slap on his right cheek. From the woman sitting next to him. “Tyler! You better explain this right now…” She was on the verge of exploding. Tyler quickly covered her mouth. He muttered a few words in her ear, and she finally glared at him and calmed down. I turned around, giving a forced smile as I introduced them to Liam: “Haha, Professor Reed, this is my boyfriend, and… his sister!” Liam paused slightly: “Your boyfriend and his sister… they have quite a unique style.” I continued my forced laughter: “Yeah, their whole family is just so trendy!” Liam’s gaze had been resting on Tyler the whole time, but suddenly he turned back to look at me. His gaze was the kind of shallow, faint look that said, “I don’t understand, but I respect it.” I quickly said goodbye to him: “Professor Reed, thank you for the ride. I’m getting in the car now. Bye.” He didn’t speak, just watched me quietly. His stare gave me the creeps. Just as I turned around, his voice sounded: “How are you going to get in?” I turned back, looking at him in confusion. He smiled warmly and glanced at Tyler’s sports car. Only then did I remember. Tyler’s damn car only has two seats! I glared fiercely at Tyler. He finally realized it too, and muttered a few more words to the woman in the passenger seat. The woman got out of the car looking extremely annoyed, finally freeing up the passenger seat. I lifted my foot, about to get in, when Liam’s clear, calm voice drifted over again. “Aren’t we going to add each other on WeChat? Chloe, we should keep in touch.” I stared blankly at Liam. Growing up, I had never been chased down so relentlessly by a teacher. The words of refusal were on the tip of my tongue, but meeting his smiling eyes… I couldn’t say it. I frantically pulled out my phone, added his WeChat, and then shrank into the car. The moment the car pulled away, Tyler flashed a huge grin and waved at Liam. “Bye, Professor Reed!” 5 I finally let out a sigh of relief. I told Tyler the whole story, and he laughed so hard he couldn’t hold the steering wheel straight. I then asked him why he was dressed like that. He said he was really into the “visual kei” aesthetic recently. Just as the car turned a corner, he slammed on the brakes. “Get out. Remember you owe me one again.” I was shocked: “You bastard, you’re not going to drive me home?” He rolled his eyes at me: “That’s an extra charge. Taking you home costs 20 bucks.” “I’m your niece!” I yelled. His eyes lit up: “Oh wow, I forgot about that! Then it’s 50 bucks!” I slammed his car door and got out, maintaining my dignity. He also showed zero respect and sped off. After all that drama, I had no desire to squeeze onto the subway anymore. So I ordered an Uber. But I waited a long time before a notification finally popped up saying a driver had accepted the ride—and it was an Uber Pool. I glanced at the car model and my eyelid twitched violently. It was another Audi A8. I muttered to myself, today I really had some bad karma with this car model. But it was already rush hour, and it was hard to get a ride, so I couldn’t be picky. After waiting by the curb for a while, a black sedan slowly pulled up. I opened the door, and a faint, crisp, clean scent wafted over me. It felt somewhat familiar, but I didn’t think much of it. Without even looking up, I casually gave my address. After I spoke, the car still didn’t start. Confused, I looked up toward the driver’s seat. That one look almost scared my soul out of my body. Liam was sitting comfortably in the driver’s seat, his fingertips resting on the steering wheel, his posture relaxed. He looked at me through the rearview mirror, a warm smile on his face. “What a coincidence, Chloe. Where’s your boyfriend?” My entire body instantly went rigid, my tongue tying itself in knots: “P-Professor Reed, why is it you…” He gripped the steering wheel, a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips: “My side hustle. Is that a problem?” “What about you? Did you have a fight with your boyfriend?” I clutched my backpack tightly, answering blankly: “Oh, no. I had an emergency at home and needed to go back. He still has class.” Liam let out a low chuckle, started the car, and smoothly merged into traffic. “I see. He drives such a flashy sports car, but he didn’t even offer to drop you off.” I forced a bitter smile: “He’s pre-med. Kinda busy.” He didn’t press further, focusing on driving, his voice soft: “Then sit tight. I’ll take you home.” I was still shaken, and instinctively blurted out: “Professor, weren’t you supposed to pick someone up? Should I just get another Uber!?” 6 Liam, of course, rejected my proposal. He said he got stood up, was heading home anyway, and just conveniently picked up an Uber Pool ride along the way. I was completely speechless. As long as he didn’t talk to me about Columbia, I’d gladly sit on his lap and let him drive me home. So, to avoid awkward small talk on the way, I simply leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes, pretending to sleep. But I didn’t expect to actually fall dead asleep. I really wanted to beg myself to be better. When I opened my eyes again, the car had stopped. We were in an underground parking garage. “We’re here. You can get out.” I groggily replied with a “Mhm”: “Thank you.” Then I opened the door and got out. Suddenly, I jolted awake. Wait, that’s not right. Why did he drive into the underground garage? I turned around and saw Liam had turned off the engine and was getting out of the car with me. My footsteps faltered, and I looked back at him in confusion: “Professor Reed… you really don’t have to. Dropping me off here is fine. I can go up by myself.” I was genuinely panicking. No matter how handsome he was, he couldn’t be a creep stalking a beautiful girl, right? He smoothly locked the car, his gaze sweeping coolly over the garage. The expression on his face remained gentle as jade, his tone utterly natural: “I didn’t say I was walking you up.” I froze for a moment. He looked up toward the elevator bank, a faint smile curving his lips: “My apartment is also in this complex.” My entire body stiffened in place, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. We drove halfway across New York to an apartment complex ridiculously far from Columbia. I never expected him to live here too. He looked at my shocked and disbelieving expression and let out a low chuckle. “I live in Building 7. You don’t live in Building 7 too, do you?” 7 I practically blurted out: “No, no, no, I live in Building 3!” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to slap myself. Why did I answer so eagerly? It made it seem like I was terrified of living in the same building as him. Liam’s footsteps paused, a playful glint in his eyes as he drawled: “Oh, what a shame. Since there have been so many coincidences today, I thought it might be even more of a coincidence.” I forced a calm smile: “It is… pretty coincidental.” So coincidental that if you wrote it in a novel, readers would complain it was too contrived. He didn’t reply, just walked with me to the elevator bank for Building 3. The lighting in the underground garage was a warm white, stretching his shadow out long. His shadow occasionally overlapped with mine, then separated. He was half a head taller than me; his gaze could easily sweep over the top of my head. I suddenly felt a knot in my stomach, remembering I hadn’t washed my hair during my two-day business trip. My scalp was definitely greasy and shiny. I subtly put a little more distance between us. He suddenly spoke up: “I didn’t expect you to live in a complex so far away either.” My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly tried to cover my tracks: “Yeah, yeah. We’re probably the only two people in the whole complex who commute from around Columbia.” As soon as I said that, I bit my tongue hard! I really asked for it. Why did I bring up Columbia again on my own initiative? He smiled leisurely: “True. In the future, I can give you a ride to school.” I quickly waved my hands: “No need to go through the trouble! I usually live on campus and rarely come home.” He nodded slightly, stopping in front of the Building 3 elevators, and pressed the button for me: “Go on up. Get some rest.” The elevator doors opened, and I practically fled inside. I turned around and waved at him: “You get some rest too. Good night.” He stood outside the doors, nodded slightly, and his thin lips moved again. “If you want to catch a ride to school, send me a WeChat message.” Absolutely not. The elevator doors slowly closed, cutting off his gaze. I let out a long exhale, my heart still pounding wildly. After getting home, I collapsed onto the sofa and, as if possessed, tapped into Liam’s WeChat profile. His profile picture was a bland landscape photo, the kind of picture older management types usually use. Scrolling through his posts, it was all shared articles—either academic updates or industry news. A uniform wall of content I couldn’t understand, like an old-school bureaucrat. Turns out he really was a bureaucrat. A young one now, an old one later. Normally, if I got the contact info of a guy this good-looking. I would absolutely swallow my pride and find a topic to chat him up. But today had been so awkward I could have curled my toes into diamonds. It was too much of a deterrent. My finger hovered over the screen for a long time, but eventually, I quietly closed the chat window. Please, let’s just stay dead in each other’s contact lists like this. Let’s never meet again, and please never think of me again. 8 But I still underestimated the cruel irony of fate. Two weeks later, my supervisor suddenly informed me I needed to help host a visiting scholar. Moving forward, we were going to collaborate on drafting a batch of important documents. I eagerly followed my supervisor downstairs to greet them. A black SUV pulled up smoothly to the lobby entrance. The car door slowly slid open. A pair of clean, long legs stepped out first. A crisp suit, broad shoulders, narrow waist—an elegant aura. I still had a standard, polite, professional smile plastered on my face as I raised my eyes. A fragile little girl died inside me. It was Liam. The moment he appeared, all the young women in the office were stunned, frozen in place. Then, they all collectively lowered their heads. Secretly cursing themselves for wearing the ugliest outfits in their closets to work today. I didn’t have to worry about that. After all, my closet didn’t contain anything that wasn’t ugly. The main issue was that someone who looked like Liam usually only appeared on TV. Who would have thought I’d run into him at my crappy 9-to-5? Liam, however, was completely composed. He reached out to shake my supervisor’s hand, his gaze lightly sweeping over the crowd in front of him. When his eyes landed on me, he paused slightly. Then, a very familiar, warm smile curved his lips. “Chloe, I didn’t expect to see you here too.” I kept my face stiff and used a breathless whisper that only he could hear to quickly spit out one word: “Internship.” My supervisor only heard Liam’s words and chuckled from the side: “Chloe, you know Professor Reed? Then you’ll be responsible for hosting him going forward.” “Professor Reed, you’ll have to show our Chloe the ropes.” I stood rooted to the spot, the corner of my mouth twitching violently. The professional fake smile on my face was barely holding on. I had no choice but to bite the bullet and nod: “Yes, boss. I’ll definitely take good care of Professor Reed.” I figured it out. Ever since I met Liam, I was constantly biting the bullet. If this kept up, I’d develop a skull of steel. Liam stood to the side, holding his briefcase, an unfathomable smile hidden in his eyes. “Chloe must be very reliable at her job, considering she’s from Colum—” My scalp instantly went numb.

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The guys in my class mocked my chest, calling me “Double-D Dave.” Even my best friend didn’t hesitate to distance herself from me. She blinked her innocent, doe-like eyes: “But a lot of girls with big chests aren’t decent, you know? “And you dressing like that… you’re doing it on purpose to seduce guys, aren’t you?” But, during my most vengeful year, I actually ended up seducing the school’s top student, the guy she had a massive crush on. 01 Right before P.E. class. I slumped over my desk, looking dead inside as I spoke to the P.E. rep: “Stomach cramps… write me a pass.” I waited until everyone had left the classroom before dropping my hand from my stomach and sitting up straight, my face expressionless. I hate P.E. I hate the sticky wind, the gross sweat, and most of all, the lingering, predatory stares. In our last P.E. class, we were doing 50-meter sprints. After I crossed the finish line, a few guys by the track were staring right at me. The ringleader, Chad, nudged the guy next to him with his elbow: “Did you see Double-D Dave bouncing when she ran? “What do you call that, the jiggle physics?” He didn’t bother lowering his voice; he spoke just loud enough for me to hear. Almost instinctively, I hunched my shoulders and slouched. I was a late bloomer. When puberty finally hit, it hit fast and hard. After I developed, I lost my actual name. “Double-D Dave” became my new alias. During every passing period, Chad and his crew would huddle together. They’d look me up and down while cracking crude jokes. They’d say breasts only get that big from being touched, that girls with big chests are all sluts… These words rushed into my heart like a howling wind, telling me that having a large chest meant being promiscuous, dirty, and indecent. I hated these two massive lumps of flesh on my chest, and I hated that piece of trash, Chad, even more. I wanted so badly to march over and confront him loudly, but the topic inherently carried a deep sense of shame, making it impossible for me to speak up. I could only look toward the group of girls sitting by the track, desperate to fit in. But they silently averted their eyes. To them, I was the sacrificial lamb thrown out of the flock. As long as I was drawing the fire, the rest of the sheep were temporarily safe. I wasn’t ready to give up. I waved at a girl with pigtails in the group: “Chloe! Do you want to partner up with me for sit-ups later?” Seeing this, a guy mocked: “Hanging out with Double-D Dave? Be careful, you might catch the Double-Ds too.” Chad answered: “It’s possible. Birds of a feather flock together, and big boobs gather together, right?” They burst into a roar of laughter. Hearing this, Chloe looked embarrassed and quickly said: “No way! Maya and I are not best friends! “I’m never going to turn out like her!” Chloe had transferred here six months ago. Because her voice naturally had a high, breathy pitch that sounded a bit fake, she didn’t fit in at first. When she was being excluded, I was the one who took the initiative to befriend her, went to the cafeteria with her, and helped her integrate into the group. We used to pass notes while the teacher was writing on the board, share teenage secrets, and exchange knowing smiles. Back then, her eyes sparkled as she told me: “You’re my best friend.” But now, she didn’t hesitate to draw a line between us. I was completely isolated. I lowered my eyelashes, turned around, and went to the equipment room to get a dumbbell plate to hold down my feet for sit-ups. As I bent over, I heard a collective gasp from behind me. Someone said regretfully: “It sucks we can’t bring phones to P.E. Otherwise I’d have Chad snap a pic, that would be totally hot…” “Cut the crap,” Chad interrupted him. “Let’s go do pull-ups.” 02 Walking through the empty classroom, I stopped in front of Chad’s desk. Chad was the AP Physics representative. On the surface, he was upbeat, got good grades, and was well-liked by the teachers. But behind closed doors, he was an absolute piece of trash. I dug out a piece of scratch paper from his desk cubby. Written on it was: “Junior Year Class 3 Big Boob Ranking.” The very first line glared at me: “Maya Lin, D+.” I fought the urge to rip that paper to shreds, pulled out my phone, and took a picture to save as evidence. Then, I pulled Chad’s phone out of his cubby. The screen lit up, revealing his lock screen photo. The photo was a side profile of a girl standing in front of a bookshelf in the library. The angle of the photo was weird, giving off a subtle, unsettling vibe—like someone was hiding behind a bookcase, shooting upwards from a low angle… In the frame, a girl in her school uniform skirt was on her tiptoes, reaching for a book on a high shelf. From that low-angle perspective, the hem of her uniform top rode up, exposing a sliver of snow-white waist and the bottom edge of a light purple bra. It was an upskirt photo. I wasn’t hearing things—that piece of trash Chad really was taking creepshots! I gritted my teeth, my chest heaving violently. When was this photo taken? Who had seen it? Were there more explicit photos besides this one? Anger, disgust, shame, terror… a torrential flood of intense emotions washed over my nerves. It was so disgusting! Trash! Trash! Chad was a disgusting, perverted creep! Fighting down the urge to vomit, I took a picture of the lock screen and then tried to unlock the phone. I knew that to completely ruin Chad’s reputation, this evidence alone wasn’t enough. Over the past few days, I had been paying attention to his unlock pattern; I should be able to figure it out. However, I tried many times, and the screen only displayed two words: “Incorrect Password.” Did Chad change his passcode? Frustrated, I shoved his phone into my pocket. I pulled out Chad’s textbooks and workbooks and, on the cover of each one, used a red Sharpie to fiercely scrawl the words: “Go to hell, pervert.” 03 P.E. was the last period of the day. The dismissal bell rang. I shoved Chad’s books back into his desk, shouldered my backpack, and prepared to head home. At the turn of the stairs, I bumped into someone—Chloe. She had just come from P.E., yet she had already put on her jacket and was sweating profusely from the heat. When she saw me, her innocent, doe-like eyes flickered, as if she wanted to say something. But I didn’t give her the chance to speak. I kept my face completely blank and walked straight past her. From the moment she drew a line between us, she became a traitor. While I despised trash like Chad, Chloe’s betrayal hurt even more. I was only plotting revenge against Chad; not seeking revenge against Chloe was the greatest mercy I could offer to our past friendship. … I live in a low-income neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. After my parents died in an accident, my grandmother and I scraped by on the insurance payout, living very frugally. Although the neighborhood is run-down and dirty, the rent is cheap and it’s close to the school. I turned my key in the lock: “Grandma?” I didn’t find my grandmother. Instead, I saw a greasy, overweight, middle-aged man walking out of the kitchen. The landlord, who had let himself in uninvited, had half a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He jingled a large ring of keys in his hand: “I told your grandma I was coming to check the gas meter today.” After checking the meter, the landlord swaggered toward the door. Before stepping out, his gaze swept over my chest: “In the blink of an eye, the little girl has grown up. “Girls really do blossom when they hit eighteen.” That kind of gaze was sickeningly familiar. It felt like a brazen tongue licking my skin, giving me goosebumps all over. I immediately and warily pulled my jacket tight across my chest. I had seen the landlord affectionately hug his young son; I had seen him look at his wife with eyes full of love. Did his wife and son know he would look at a young girl with such unbridled lust? A second ago, he was a good husband and a good father. Why, when facing me, did he reveal such a disgusting expression? After the landlord left, I leaned against the security door, hating this post-pubescent body for the millionth time. 04 The next morning. I slammed the snooze button on my alarm clock and forced my eyes open with sheer willpower. Yesterday, I took Chad’s phone. I stayed up half the night trying to guess the passcode, but I never managed to unlock it. Furious, I simply went into the class group chat’s photo album, found an ugly picture of Chad, and created a fake profile on Instagram pretending to be his parent. I posted his ugly picture and asked if he could be a child model. Right now, I opened Instagram. Seeing the comment section filled with mockery and insults, I finally felt satisfied enough to get out of bed. There was a hard-boiled egg on the dining table, and oatmeal was still warm on the stove. My grandmother had already left. Even at her age, she couldn’t sit still. She liked collecting cans and bottles to sell for recycling. I yawned and walked onto the familiar path. Passing by a narrow alley, I stopped. There was a stray calico cat in this alley that I called Mimi. I held a sausage, making clicking noises as I walked into the alley. Unlike before, there was an extra cardboard box in the alley. A hole had been cut into the box, and some old school uniform jackets were lining the inside—had some kind soul made a bed for Mimi? “Meow—” A faint meow came from the box. I leaned in, and my eyes widened—inside the box was a litter of tiny, colorful kittens. … I hummed a song, feeling a rare surge of joy as I walked into the classroom. Ever since I was singled out and isolated by Chad, I had become a warrior fueled entirely by hatred during an age supposed to be about innocent romance. I hated school, I hated morning assemblies, I hated P.E. class, and I hated my own body… But I will always love kittens. Kittens wouldn’t look at me with weird eyes because in their eyes, there was only sausage. I was just pondering how to get some extra nutrition for Mimi, who had just given birth, when I suddenly realized the classroom was exceptionally quiet. I looked up in confusion and saw many of my classmates staring at me with bizarre expressions. Someone said: “Maya, the homeroom teacher wants to see you in his office.” 05 I pushed open the door to the teacher’s office. Our middle-aged, balding homeroom teacher, Mr. Harris, was rubbing his receding hairline, looking deeply troubled. Chad was standing opposite him. Seeing me enter, Chad immediately pointed at me: “Mr. Harris, yesterday Maya was the only one who didn’t go to the last period, which was P.E. “She definitely stole it!” Knowing I held evidence of his creepshots, Chad actually had the audacity to complain? Looking at Chad’s face full of resentment, I put on a sweet smile: “Oh? Why don’t you tell me, what exactly did I steal? “Chad, what kind of shady things were you hiding?” Since I dared to take Chad’s phone and scribble all over his books, I wasn’t afraid of him making a scene. If he didn’t make a scene, he’d have to swallow a bitter pill and explain to the teachers why he couldn’t hand in his assignments. If he really dared to bring it up to the teacher and accuse me of stealing his phone, then I would confront him and force him to unlock his phone right there. Chad stared at me, a smile I couldn’t decipher on his lips: “Earlier, the physics teacher had me collect $500 for the new AP prep books. “The envelope with the money was in my desk cubby. “Now the money is gone, and you definitely stole it.” I was stunned. Prep book money? When I rummaged through his cubby yesterday, I didn’t see any envelope with money. I denied it loudly: “You’re lying. I didn’t steal any money!” Mr. Harris looked at me hesitantly: “The security camera system happens to be undergoing maintenance recently… “But besides Chad, there’s a witness who can prove you were the only one in the classroom yesterday afternoon.” Following his gaze, I saw Chloe sitting in the corner. Right now, Chloe was nervously wringing the hem of her shirt. Seeing everyone looking at her, she swallowed hard and said quietly: “I was the first one back to the classroom yesterday. “At that time… I ran into Maya as she was getting ready to leave. “Her expression was very unnatural, and she definitely had something stuffed in her pocket…” My brain went “BZZZZZZ—” 06 Chad and I went back and forth, almost getting into a physical fight right there in the office. He absolutely refused to mention his missing phone, sticking to his story that he only lost the $500 for the prep books. Mr. Harris couldn’t determine who was lying and decided to put the matter on hold for now. He said: “I’ll cover the cost of the prep books this time. But I will continue to investigate.” He looked at the two of us, his expression serious: “$500 is enough to get the police involved. “Within a month, if the student who took the money thinks it through, they can come to me privately and admit their mistake. “Don’t go down the wrong path.” Chad and Chloe left one after another. I was the only one left standing there. Mr. Harris asked: “Maya, is there anything else you need?” My heart was pounding like a drum. Should I tell this middle-aged man, who is supposed to be a role model, the truth about the whole thing? Last time, I pretended to casually mention to Mr. Harris that Chad was always staring at me and making nasty jokes. And what did Mr. Harris do? He laughed heartily and said teenage boys just like to attract girls’ attention like that. He said Chad was a bright, sunny kid with no bad intentions and told me not to take it to heart. He even said my weakness was Physics, and since Chad happened to excel at it, he told me to ask him for help more often. If I told Mr. Harris now that I suspected Chad took indecent photos of me, and that I stole his phone to preserve the evidence, would Mr. Harris really take my side? The landlord’s lecherous gaze flashed before my eyes, and the crude jokes of the guys echoed in my ears. I didn’t dare risk it. I lowered my head and heard my own voice: “No, I’m fine, Mr. Harris.” … The entire day, I was completely distracted. Chloe passed me a few notes, but I crumpled them up and threw them straight out the window. After school, the sky was covered in dark clouds, and it had already started pouring. I didn’t have an umbrella. Seeing my classmates leaving together under umbrellas, or having parents come pick them up, I could only continuously curse this world. The whole school was a piece of shit, everyone was garbage, and the dark clouds were just giant clumps of moldy cotton. “Maya!” Suddenly, a familiar voice came from behind. 07 I turned my head and looked coldly at Chloe. She was holding a foldable umbrella, her round, doll-like face deliberately set in a serious expression. Back when Chloe first transferred here, she didn’t have an umbrella on a rainy day, and I was the one who took the initiative to share mine with her. This damn traitor. She really owed me a lot. I stared at the umbrella in Chloe’s hand, calculating the odds of snatching it and running. Chloe leaned in close and asked quietly: “Why did you throw away my notes?” I scoffed: “Because you’re a disgusting traitor. “You’d rather believe that piece of trash Chad than believe me. “I hate you guys to death.” Chloe’s eyes went wide: “You!” She stared at me, gritting her teeth: “Maya, you are truly beyond saving. “I saw you didn’t have an umbrella and wanted to walk you home. “Chad and the others were right! You used to deliberately wear a tight uniform to seduce guys, and now you’re actually stealing money!” As she spoke, Chloe’s eyes reddened: “Why can’t you have just a little bit of self-respect?” She was highly emotional, her voice becoming shrill. Classmates all around cast probing glances, making me feel like I had needles in my back. Chloe really was something—now, besides “Double-D Dave,” I had a new title: “Thief.” Hatred continued to breed in my heart. I wanted nothing more than to rip apart her babbling mouth. Traitor! Damn traitor! I was so angry I yelled: “Chloe, you’re full of shit!” Before she could react, I shoved Chloe hard. Caught off guard, she fell to the ground. The umbrella slipped from her grasp and rolled to the side. I took a large step forward, picked up her umbrella, chucked it right into the trash can, and then turned and bolted straight into the torrential rain. … The rain fell harder and harder. All I could hear was the sound of the rain and my own chaotic heartbeat. Passing by the alleyway, I stopped, hesitated for a moment, and still turned into it. In the downpour, the cardboard box holding the kittens had long been washed away. The box had practically been reduced to a mushy pulp by the water, leaving only a filthy mess on the ground. Where were the kittens? Where did that litter of kittens go? With rain this heavy, could newborn kittens survive? It was only then that my eyes finally started to sting with unshed tears. This damn world—trash guys slandering me, friends betraying me, teachers doubting me… Fate took my parents in a car crash on a rainy night, and now it wants to take the kittens too? I crouched in the pouring rain, hugging my knees, curling into a ball, and began trembling uncontrollably. Suddenly, the rain seemed to stop. A shadow fell over me. I looked up and saw a tall silhouette standing against the light. The person stood beside me, holding an umbrella. He asked gently: “Are you looking for the cats?”

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