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1 After being bound to the “Manipulative Social Climber System,” I became a self-taught master of all eighteen arts of manipulation. Yet, my target was a connoisseur of cunning, a master at spotting manipulative acts. All ninety-nine of my attempts failed. At the Caldwell family gala, Arthur Caldwell, the prince of New York society, once again precisely saw through my scheme. He knocked the drugged wine glass from my hand, his voice sharp: “I’ve seen plenty of calculating women like you. Take my advice, don’t waste your energy. Anything you’ve touched, I find disgusting just to look at.” Yet, he was easily swayed by a holier-than-thou act, completely losing his head over a seemingly pure woman. I smiled, furious, and promptly changed my targets. Later, when the entire Caldwell family was fiercely vying for my attention, Arthur was the only one who pointed at me, screaming in frustration: “Can’t you all see she’s just a manipulative fraud?!” The entire Caldwell family stood in front of me, saying in unison: “She’s no manipulative fraud, she’s our little darling.” … The system instantly blared a sharp warning: 【How dare you change your targets without permission? And you picked a whole bunch at once!】 【Arthur Caldwell’s father, his mother, his sister.】 【Oh my god, how about the Caldwell family’s ninety-year-old Grand Matriarch?!】 I spoke with righteous indignation: “If I can’t complete the mission to climb the social ladder in an elite family, I’ll die on the spot anyway.” “This is my last chance, so of course, I have to cast a wider net.” The thought made my teeth ache. I had initially believed that with my perfected manipulative skills, securing Arthur Caldwell would be a piece of cake. Unexpectedly, I failed ninety-nine times. The man was impervious to my charm. Feigning accidental encounters, playing the victim, orchestrating life-saving moments, “accidentally” ending up in his room… Every trick turned into a joke in front of him. He could instantly tell I was a top-tier manipulator. I once thought he was the legendary ultimate challenge in seduction. Until I saw another woman, with far cruder tactics, look down her nose at him and declare, “Get lost. Don’t think being rich makes you special.” Arthur’s eyes, usually like still water, instantly lit up with astonishing brilliance. “Woman, you have successfully captured my attention.” At that moment, it hit me like a revelation. It wasn’t that my methods weren’t sophisticated enough. It was that this socialite prince had never experienced anything truly refined. I patiently explained to the system: “There’s more than one path to securing a place in high society.” “If I can’t be Arthur Caldwell’s wife, I can be his stepmother, his sister, or a close confidante to his great-grandmother.” Just then, distracted, I accidentally bumped into someone around a corner. “Ouch.” I stumbled backward, nearly falling to the ground. However, a distinctly familiar sneer reached my ears: “Scarlett Davies, are you faking a fall again?” I looked up. Arthur Caldwell stood before me, beside him Audrey Windsor, her face aloof, as if untouched by worldly concerns. Arthur tilted his head, his voice laced with disdain, “Save your energy. Don’t try any tricks to seduce me.” Seeing it was the prince and his pure-hearted darling, my face instantly fell, and I simply wanted to turn and leave. But Arthur grabbed me. “You bumped into someone and didn’t even apologize? Still planning to leave?” I rolled my eyes. Who bumped into whom? Just as I was about to retort, the system’s voice chimed: 【Host, attention, first target has appeared.】 I instinctively looked behind me. A young woman was walking down the stairs. She bore a seven-tenths resemblance to Arthur, but her demeanor was more composed and refined. It was Vivian Caldwell, the eldest daughter of the Caldwell family. In a flash, my mind raced. Suddenly, following the direction of Arthur’s pull, I leaned gently towards him, feigning weakness. “Alright, I apologize, Mr. Caldwell. Please don’t be angry.” Arthur was momentarily stunned by my sudden move. Then, as if he’d touched something disgusting, he abruptly shoved me away. “Scarlett Davies, get away from me!” That push was exactly what I was waiting for. I spun around and fell to the floor. My eyes instantly welled up, and my voice, thick with feigned sweetness, filled the room: “Mr. Caldwell, I’m so sorry. I was too clumsy. It’s all my fault. Please don’t hit me.” Arthur’s face flushed with anger. “What? Who’s hitting you? Get up!” He bent down, intending to forcibly pull me up, but just as he touched my arm— “Arthur Caldwell, stop right there!” An angry female voice rang out. 2 Seeing the newcomer, Arthur instantly reined in his fiery temper. “Vivian, what are you doing here?” Vivian Caldwell, heels clicking, approached. “If I hadn’t come, how would I have known you’re so domineering out here?” “I wasn’t!” Arthur immediately retorted. “She’s staging it all herself!” Before he could finish, I had already flung myself into Vivian’s arms, sobbing softly. “Sister, it’s true, I just tripped and fell. It’s not Mr. Caldwell’s fault. He… he didn’t bully me.” Vivian looked down at me. My eyes and nose were red, tears glistening but not yet falling, and though clearly scared, I was still defending Arthur. A soft spot in her heart gently melted. 【Target Vivian Caldwell affinity score: 30.】 “Don’t be afraid.” Vivian patted my hand, then turned to Arthur and said coldly, “Apologize.” Arthur was absolutely furious. He reached out to grab me. “You manipulative fraud, get out of my sister’s arms!” “You dare bully someone right in front of me?” Vivian shielded me, her face hardening. I quickly stepped between them. “Sister, please don’t argue with Mr. Caldwell because of me. It’s okay if I suffer a little.” 【Target affinity score: 40.】 Vivian’s gaze lingered on my face. The more she looked, the more she found this girl well-behaved and sensible, utterly unlike her rogue younger brother. Just then, Audrey Windsor, who had been ignored, finally spoke, carrying an air of holier-than-thou arrogance. “Ms. Caldwell, you’ve come in and immediately taken sides, jumping to conclusions without understanding the full situation.” “No wonder Arthur always says he doesn’t like you as a sister.” Vivian’s brow furrowed abruptly. Seeing that she seemed about to press further, I quickly interjected: “That’s not true! Sister is clearly so kind, how can you try to drive a wedge between her and Mr. Caldwell?” Vivian’s heart suddenly warmed. She looked back at Audrey, her gaze now scrutinizing. “Who are you? Our Caldwell family matters are none of your business to dictate.” Arthur quickly stepped forward. “Vivian, Audrey is my girlfriend. While she might speak her mind, she’s very innocent, unlike some gold-diggers full of schemes.” He pointedly glanced at me. “Don’t let her trick you.” Vivian scoffed. Her gaze critically swept over Audrey. Dressed in the season’s latest limited edition, carrying a bag that could equal an average person’s annual salary – all likely gifts from her foolish brother. And she had the nerve to call someone else a gold-digger? “This girlfriend you’ve brought back,” Vivian said, her voice laced with sarcasm, “doesn’t seem like a simple character either.” Audrey’s face instantly went ashen, as if she had suffered a profound humiliation. “I knew it! You rich people all look down on me!” With that, she turned and ran. “Audrey!” Arthur anxiously chased after her, casting a furious glare at Vivian before he left. “Vivian, this is all your doing!” Vivian watched her brother’s unhesitating retreat, a flicker of melancholy in her eyes. “This brother of mine, he’s really becoming less and less close to me.” I stood quietly beside her. I’d long heard that Vivian Caldwell possessed exceptional abilities, and there was an intention to groom her as the family’s successor. My voice was soft. “Mr. Caldwell is still young and foolish. He doesn’t see how much effort Sister has poured into this family, and into him.” “The fact that Sister is still willing to guide and teach him now already makes her the best sister in the world.” I lifted my face, revealing undisguised admiration. “If I had such a wonderful sister, I’d wake up smiling every day. I’d constantly be by Sister’s side. If Sister told me to go east, I’d never even glance west.” Vivian paused, then laughed aloud, much of her earlier irritation dissipating. Her gaze towards me visibly softened. “You can stay with me at the gala today. It’ll save you from being bullied by that rascal again.” I nodded obediently, following close by Vivian’s side, my affinity score rising to 70. Just as I was about to press my advantage, the system alert chimed urgently again. 【Attention, target two and target three have appeared.】 I immediately looked up. Vivian by my side had already quickened her pace, respectfully greeting the distinguished middle-aged couple ahead. “Dad, Mom, you’re here.” 3 On the left, a man of commanding presence. On the right, a graceful, elegant woman. These were Arthur Caldwell’s parents. Mrs. Caldwell’s gaze immediately fell on me. “And who is this?” Vivian was momentarily speechless, unsure how to introduce this poor girl who had been bullied by her brother. I immediately stepped half a pace forward, my voice sweet and gentle. “Hello, Uncle and Auntie. My name is Scarlett Davies, and I’m Vivian’s friend.” I made no mention of the earlier conflict with Arthur. Vivian gave me a grateful look. “Vivian rarely brings friends home,” Mrs. Caldwell’s smile grew even warmer. “I can tell you must be a good child.” Mrs. Caldwell’s initial affinity score was already 20. As she spoke, she actually took off a beautifully translucent mutton-fat jade bangle from her wrist, took my hand, and gently slipped it on. “It’s our first meeting, and Auntie didn’t prepare anything. This bangle looks lovely on your skin. Consider it a gift.” I stared blankly at the bangle, then looked up at Mrs. Caldwell, my eyes instantly reddening. Large tears, without warning, rolled down my cheeks. “Oh, why are you crying?” Mrs. Caldwell jumped, her tone a little flustered. “Don’t you like the bangle?” “No, it’s not that.” I shook my head. “The bangle is very beautiful, I love it. It just made me think of my mother.” “After my mother disappeared, no one had ever been so kind to me.” I lifted my tear-filled eyes to Mrs. Caldwell. “Auntie, thank you.” 【Mrs. Caldwell affinity score: 35】 【Vivian Caldwell affinity score: 80】 【Mr. Caldwell affinity score: 30】 Hearing my pitiful story, Mrs. Caldwell and Vivian’s affinity scores increasing was expected. Mr. Caldwell’s sudden affection, however, made me slightly pause. The system provided a timely explanation: 【Mr. Caldwell is henpecked. He saw Mrs. Caldwell’s clear liking for you, and thus developed a favorable impression of the host.】 There’s such a good thing? My heart soared with delight, and I became even more diligent in pleasing Mrs. Caldwell. Therefore, when Arthur finally appeased Audrey and brought her back, what they saw was this scene: Mrs. Caldwell, her face full of pleasure: “Scarlett, I didn’t know you had such skill?” I, while massaging her arm, shyly replied: “I specifically sought out an experienced Traditional Chinese Medicine doctor to learn. I originally wanted to learn to massage my mother, but before I could use it, she…” My voice trailed off sadly. Mrs. Caldwell immediately squeezed my hand, her eyes full of sympathy. “My dear child, you’ve truly suffered.” “Fortunately, you’ve met Auntie now. You’re so kind to me, just like my mother.” “Scarlett Davies!” Arthur roared. “Oh, so you’re trying to deceive my parents now too?!” I immediately stood up, looking frantic and helpless. “Mr. Caldwell, please don’t be angry. Auntie and I are not what you think.” Arthur’s chest heaved with rage. “I heard everything! How disgusting! Not only are you trying to seduce my sister, but now you’re saying my mother is like your mother? Do you even deserve that?!” “Arthur!” Mrs. Caldwell’s face darkened, and she sharply rebuked him. “How dare you speak like that? You have no manners at all!” Vivian immediately shielded me. “Don’t you dare insult my friend!” “Friend? Vivian Caldwell, have you lost your mind?!” Arthur, furious, laughed, then pointed abruptly at me. “Do you know what kind of person she is? She’s a manipulative gold-digger who’ll stop at nothing to climb the social ladder! She even drugged me once!” “Arthur Caldwell!” Vivian’s voice suddenly rose. “What nonsense are you spouting?!” “I’m not spouting nonsense.” Arthur stood his ground. “On the contrary, you, knowing nothing, brought this kind of person in front of Mom and Dad!” Seeing the siblings at daggers drawn, the atmosphere was taut to the extreme. Audrey Windsor, who had been standing silently behind Arthur, seemingly detached from it all, finally opened her crimson lips. “Scarlett Davies, you’re causing chaos in other people’s homes, yet you hide away. At this point, shouldn’t you come out and explain yourself?” 4 I looked at Audrey’s malicious eyes and inwardly cursed, you sanctimonious fraud. However, my past history of pestering Arthur was undeniable. Even if I denied it today, if the Caldwell family found out later, my affinity scores would plummet. Arthur pointed at me. “Scarlett Davies, you tell them yourself, what I just said, do you admit it or not!” Vivian shielded me. “Scarlett, don’t be afraid. If he’s slandering you, Sister will protect you.” I looked at Vivian, then swept my gaze across the Caldwell parents, whose expressions had subtly darkened. Taking a deep breath, I said, “Mr. Caldwell is right. I did pester him for a long time.” Vivian instinctively released her grip. Disappointment flickered across the Caldwell family’s faces. Arthur finally looked triumphant. “Hear that? She admitted it! This ill-intentioned person, hurry up and kick her out!” “But!” I sharply cut him off, my voice even more choked with sobs, yet I forced myself to stand tall. “I grew up without anyone to care for me. Mr. Caldwell was the first person to ever be kind to me, and I wanted so desperately to hold onto that kindness.” I covered my face, my shoulders trembling slightly. “I had already made up my mind, planning to quietly leave and put an end to my past mistakes.” “But then I met Vivian, who protected me. I met Auntie, who loved me like a daughter. I met Uncle…” “I was too greedy. Greedy for this warmth, which is why I didn’t dare to reveal the truth.” I took a step back. “I’m sorry, I was too despicable. I’ll leave now.” I turned to walk away, but inwardly, I was counting down. Three, two, one. “Wait,” Almost as soon as I counted to one, Vivian’s voice rang out. She pulled me tightly into her embrace. “I’m sorry, Scarlett. Sister didn’t know you were carrying so much pain. It’s my fault.” She turned to her parents, her tone firm. “Dad, Mom, Scarlett is just too starved for love; she took a wrong path.” Arthur was practically insane with rage. “Vivian Caldwell, are you blind?! Can’t you see she’s acting?!” Mrs. Caldwell also spoke now. “Scarlett is a guest of our Caldwell family.” She looked at me. “Scarlett, don’t listen to him. Stay with us.” Mr. Caldwell naturally followed his wife’s lead. “Ms. Davies, it’s good to admit mistakes and correct them. I believe Arthur will forgive you too.” Seeing the situation reverse, Audrey stepped forward, her voice rising. “With all due respect, doing something wrong is doing something wrong. There’s no excuse for forgiveness.” “A woman so morally bankrupt, even attempting to reform, is still rotten to the core! Their very being is tainted!” The words were extremely harsh and grating. Mrs. Caldwell’s face completely darkened. “Can you guarantee that you will never make a mistake in your entire life?” Audrey raised her chin, like an aloof, pure white snow lotus unafraid of authority. “Of course! My actions are always open and above board. I despise your elite family’s twisted games the most.” “And I utterly despise those who scheme and manipulate to climb the social ladder!” Arthur’s eyes were shining brightly. “Mom and Dad, Audrey is right. This is the woman I love. She’s different from other women. Look how real and pure she is!” The entire Caldwell family’s faces turned grim. They looked at Arthur as if he were the foolish son of a rich landlord. Mrs. Caldwell finally lost patience. “Butler, show them out.” “Mom!” Arthur panicked. “Audrey is my guest!” I spoke softly at the opportune moment. “Oh, I wonder if Sister Audrey knew she was coming to a family gala today?” “Why is she wearing all white? It looks so solemn, like she’s attending a funeral.” Everyone’s gazes instantly focused on Audrey. She was indeed wearing a pure white dress. The Caldwell parents’ faces grew even darker. Audrey’s face flushed then paled. She bit her lower lip tightly. “You Caldwells just look down on people! I refuse to stay in this place!” With that, she turned and ran. “Audrey!” Arthur chased after her without hesitation. After this turn of events, the Caldwell family’s affinity scores for me had changed again. 【Mrs. Caldwell affinity score: 75】 【Vivian Caldwell affinity score: 90】 【Mr. Caldwell affinity score: 60】 I was formally invited to stay for the Caldwell family gala. Vivian told me that the Caldwell Grand Matriarch would also be attending today. My heart stirred; she was one of my targets. Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the hall. Several black-suited bodyguards secured the banquet hall’s exits. The guests exchanged puzzled glances. Vivian’s face changed drastically, and she stood up. “What’s going on?” Just then, Arthur Caldwell and Audrey Windsor reappeared. Arthur’s gaze swept across the room, finally landing on me, a cold smirk on his lips. He raised his voice. “I apologize for interrupting your enjoyment. Just now, the Phoenix and Dragon jade pendant, most cherished by our Caldwell Grand Matriarch, was stolen. The thief is very likely among us.” A gasp rippled through the crowd. I had a bad feeling. I instinctively looked down. Sure enough, a jade pendant was hidden beneath my chair. Before I could react, Arthur, sharp-eyed, rushed over. The moment he saw the jade pendant, his face filled with triumph. “Caught red-handed! Guards, seize this thief!”

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My dad was the “tough love” disciplinarian; my mom was the “sacrificing” nurturer. They were obsessed with my upbringing, strictly adhering to their roles. If I made a mistake, Dad would pull out his belt. “Spare the rod, spoil the child.” “I’m doing this for you. You’ll thank me later!” When my grades slipped, Mom would weep. “I suffered so much just for you, and this score is how you repay me?” The day I was diagnosed with depression. Dad and Mom had a huge fight. Dad pointed at Mom’s nose, screaming that her softness ruined me. Mom screamed back that it was his harshness that failed me. Neither thought they were wrong. From that day on, they doubled down on their “methods.” On the day my SAT scores came out, I heard them agree for the first time. “We fed her, clothed her all these years! If not for her, my life wouldn’t be this hard! And look at her! She can’t compare to anyone else’s kid!” “We hoped she’d take care of us in old age, but we got stuck with this useless daughter. Always threatening to die… we should just let her die and be done with it!” I stopped in my tracks. That night, looking at the belt hanging from the ceiling, I smiled. 1 Suffocation hit me like a wall. The belt cut into my flesh, but the intense pain brought a sliver of relief. Growing up. Every time I encountered Dad’s belt, it was because I made a mistake. Shoes not placed correctly? Twenty lashes. Didn’t eat vegetables before meat? Fifty lashes. Even wearing colors that weren’t “bright enough” earned me a practiced whipping. And now. I was using this belt, worn rough by my own skin over the years, to end myself. Mom and Dad’s words echoed in my head. To raise me “right,” Dad rejected high-paying travel jobs to stay in this small town. Mom gave up her dream of being a musician to watch over me every day. I was a burden. If I died, they would never fight about me again. My chest felt like it was going to explode. But on my purple face, there was a trace of a smile. For years, I had tried to end my life many times. My wrists were covered in dense scars. Every time Dad saw them, he would rush me to the hospital on his back, sometimes forgetting his shoes. Mom would slap me in anger, then hug me tightly the next second. She would say: “Mom begs you! Please live!” “What depression!? Mom doesn’t understand, but Mom knows if you keep this up, you’ll drive me to death!” “Mom sacrificed so much for you, isn’t that worth living for?!” Every time I remembered Mom’s words and the warmth of Dad’s back. I would drop the knife. Yes. My life belonged to them. If they didn’t let me die, I couldn’t die. But today, they didn’t argue. For the first time, they agreed. They wanted to let me die. They consented. I kicked the chair away. Intense suffocation swallowed me instantly. My body turned cold, the chill seeping into my bones. I wanted to say sorry to Mom and Dad one last time. Trembling, I raised my phone and dialed. The call connected instantly. I heard Mom chatting with relatives. “Oh, you’re so lucky, your daughter has such good grades. Unlike my mud-wall useless kid, she can’t compare to her cousin at all!” “I sacrificed so much for her! Why is she so insensible?” A sourness rose in my heart. I squeezed a tiny sound from my throat. “Mom… Mom… so… rry.” But the voice was too small. Mom couldn’t hear. The busy tone beeped. My consciousness blurred. It’s better to die. Mom won’t have to sacrifice for me anymore. Dad won’t fight with Mom anymore. 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in the living room. Mom was holding my cousin Chloe’s hand on the sofa. “Heard your score is enough for Ivy League? Wow, amazing.” Dad looked at Chloe with a smile too. “Chloe is great. Good grades, cheerful personality.” “Unlike my useless trash. Not only is she good for nothing, she only knows how to make me angry!” Mentioning me, Dad’s face darkened instantly. Chloe’s smile deepened. “Are Lily’s scores out? She works so hard, maybe she can get into a state college.” Aunt Karen, Chloe’s mom, cracked sunflower seeds and smiled. “Yeah, community college is fine too.” Mom’s smile vanished. “Don’t mention it!” “Yesterday she pretended to be sick to avoid copying the textbook. Her dad disciplined her a bit, and she hasn’t come out of her room all day!” “Always throwing tantrums! No need to check her score! With her attitude, she probably can’t even get into community college!” “Dad and I put so much effort into her! Why can’t she compare to you even a little bit!” I tried to explain to Mom. It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t pretending. I had a fever of 104 degrees. I just wanted ten minutes of rest. But Mom couldn’t hear me. She kept praising Chloe, lamenting constantly: If only Chloe were my daughter. At lunch, I still didn’t appear. Dad slammed his chopsticks on the table. “That damn girl! Is she done yet!” He was about to grab his belt and rush into my room, but Mom stopped him. She signaled with her eyes: Relatives are here. Dad held back, but his chest heaved violently. “Throwing a tantrum, huh? Fine. No food for her. Starve her for a few days!” He took a key, locked my door from the outside, and wrapped a belt around the handle a few times. “Since she won’t listen! Let her reflect in there!” Chloe put some food in Dad’s bowl. “Uncle David, don’t be mad. Lily is just young and insensible.” “It’s my fault too. I should have watched her more at school.” “Or she wouldn’t be hanging out with those sketchy boys.” Dad’s face went dark. “What did you say!?” Next second, Chloe covered her mouth. “Oops, I misspoke again!” Mom sounded annoyed and urgent. “Not your fault! Chloe, speak clearly. What did that damn girl do at school?” Chloe and Aunt Karen exchanged a look. Aunt Karen smiled. “Tell them. If you don’t, your Aunt Sarah will misunderstand Lily!” Chloe put down her chopsticks and cleared her throat. “After I say this, Aunt Sarah, please don’t be mad at Lily.” “It’s nothing really, just… people at school say they saw Lily going into alleys with lots of boys.” “They say when she came out… her clothes were disheveled.” “I suspect… her grades dropping might be related to this.” Bang! Dad flipped the table, nose crooked with rage. “Shameless!” He stormed to my door and kicked it. Boom! “I paid for your school to make you successful! Not to be a slut!” “Great! You’re shaming us at school too!” I shook my head frantically. No. Not like that. I didn’t. Freshman year was the first year of my depression. I was afraid of contact, hiding in corners every day. Until the first midterm. I got first place. Chloe was second. Rumors spread that I cheated. I wanted to explain. But Chloe pointed at me in front of the whole school. “This is my cousin, she has depression! Don’t talk nonsense! She might kill herself!” Whispers swallowed me. “Depression? Is she faking it?” “Good grades and depression?” That day, the teacher called parents. Dad arrived and immediately pulled out his belt. Snap! The belt whipped my face, drawing blood. “Not learning well at a young age! Cheating now? Is that how I taught you!” My heart turned sour, my whole body shaking. “I didn’t…” Before I finished, another whip landed. “Didn’t what! Would your cousin lie like you!” Since that day, the school bullies targeted me. They dragged me into alleys. Tore up my test papers, forced me to show them my self-harm scars. I told Mom. Mom said flies don’t bite seamless eggs. I attracted attention because I wasn’t modest. Later, rumors spread. Dad got tired of yelling. Mom supported him. “Alright, Chloe is here!” “Besides…” I looked at Mom hopefully. Was she willing to believe me? I really didn’t. I listened, didn’t wear tank tops, wore jackets even in summer. I wasn’t immodest. But Mom’s next words froze my blood. “She’s afraid of the dark, right? Cut the power to her room. Lock her up for a few days, she’ll learn.” Dad cut the power decisively. “This is for Chloe’s sake! Or I’d beat her to death today!” Chloe smiled and comforted Dad. “Uncle David, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have mentioned it!” Dad snorted. “Why blame you! It’s her problem! If you didn’t say it, others would! I’m educating her!” “I was planning to take her to the aquarium for getting good grades.” “Now it seems! She doesn’t deserve it! Let’s go, Uncle will take you!” Aunt Karen grinned ear to ear. “Quick, Chloe, thank your Uncle.” Chloe’s eyes lit up, thanking Dad sweetly. Until the door closed. I stood alone in the pitch-black room, just like when I was little. Painful memories flooded back. 3 At twelve, I got into the best middle school with top scores. Mom smiled ear to ear when she got the call. Even Dad patted my shoulder when he came home. “Okay. Good job this time.” “Didn’t waste the effort your mom and I put in.” Looking at them, I gathered courage for the first time. “Dad, Mom, can you celebrate my birthday with me?” Mom paused, spatula in hand. “Birthday? Sure, it’s coming up, right?” Dad frowned. “Only know how to play. Better to do another set of practice questions.” “Fine, I promise. We’ll find time in a few days.” My heart clenched. I whispered. “Today is my birthday…” Growing up, I never had a birthday. Classmates talked about their birthdays. Mom would cook special noodles, Dad would bring gifts. Blowing candles, making wishes. I only saw that in dreams. I looked up expectantly. Mom froze. “Today… oh, my memory. Forgot.” “No cake, Mom will make you longevity noodles, okay?” I said okay, flattered. I looked at Dad cautiously. Dad said nothing, went to his room, came out with a small box. He patted my head, handing it to me. “Gift from Dad.” When I saw the fountain pen inside, I couldn’t help feeling a secret joy. My classmates were right. Birthdays are so happy. That day, though there was no cake, I made a wish. I wished Mom and Dad could celebrate my birthday every year. But later, I never had that chance again. First mock exam, I ranked second in the school. The teacher smiled, inviting parents to share “educational experience.” But Dad arrived and pulled out his belt. Snap! The belt lashed me. The teacher gasped. “Lily’s dad! What are you doing!” Dad’s face was dark. “School just started! Dropped to second place!” “Are you worthy of what your mom and I did for you!” I wanted to explain, Dad didn’t listen. That day, I was dragged out of school. Home, Mom looked at me with disappointment. I didn’t want to disappoint them. I studied day and night. Up at 3 AM, still doing papers at 11 PM. Second mock exam results came out. Cold water poured over me. Fourth place. Not even top three. The teacher comforted me. “First is a genius. Second hired a professor. Third got lucky.” “Don’t be sad, Lily. I’ll talk to your family.” But Dad said these were excuses. I regressed because I didn’t work hard enough. That night I was locked in the storage room. Pitch black. I curled up in fear. Squeaking sounds around me, rats or snakes. Anxiety and panic overwhelmed me. I shook uncontrollably. I banged on the door, begging. “Dad, I was wrong. Let me out.” “I’ll work hard…” No one answered. Silence outside. Just like now. Pitch black. I hugged my semi-transparent body, eyes wet. “Sorry, Mom, Dad…” 4 The front door opened. Mom and Dad were back. Mom looked at my closed door and sighed. “Still throwing a tantrum.” Dad scowled: “You spoiled her! I say! Didn’t beat her hard enough!” Mom waved: “How did I spoil her! Fine! I won’t manage her, you do it!” “I’m going to the roof to get the sheets!” I was frantic. I looked too ugly. I didn’t want to scare Mom. But Mom went to the roof. She pulled down the sheet, muttering. “Don’t know what sin I committed to birth such a waste.” Next second, she saw me hanging there. Mom froze. The sheet fell into the dust. She stared at me, eyes bulging, face green. Terrifying. Mom didn’t come down for a long time. Dad came up. “Taking forever for a sheet?” “Lily is getting more disobedient. Going to college soon, still so immature!” Next second, he saw me. Dad’s pupils shrank violently, lips trembling, speech failing. “Lily!” Mom snapped out of it, rushing to me. She tried to lift me down, but she was too weak. “David! Come help!” Her voice rose to a scream. Dad’s shaking hands lifted me down carefully. He looked at the red groove on my neck, biting into the bone, bloody. The mark made by the belt he used to punish me yesterday. Mom held me, sobbing breathlessly. “Lily! Wake up! Mom begs you, look at Mom!” Dad took out his phone, shaking. “Doctor, ambulance… she’ll be fine… she must be fine.” His hands shook so much he failed to dial several times. The ambulance came fast. Medics checked me. Mom couldn’t stand, swaying. The doctor checked my eyes, used instruments, then shook his head. “Dead too long. Can’t save her.” Mom threw herself on me, wailing. “Lily! What will Mom do without you!” She hugged me tight, forehead to mine, trying to warm my cold body. Tears smashed onto my face. Dad fell to his knees, kowtowing to the doctor. “Please! Doctor! Save my daughter!” “She just got into college! She’s our only hope!” The doctor sighed, handing Dad a pill bottle from the floor. “We tried.” “And this is for depression. As parents, you should know her condition.” “Besides the fatal wound, she has dozens of scars on her wrists. Previous suicide attempts.” Dad collapsed on the ground. “I knew…” “But I thought she was better…” I never got better. Since Dad carried me to the hospital and Mom cared for me day and night, I hid my sickness. I didn’t want them to worry. So every time Dad punished me and Mom cried to me, I went to my room alone and cut my arm with a cold blade. I covered my mouth to stop the screams. When consciousness faded, I bandaged the wound and wiped the blood off the floor. Until everything looked calm again. Day after day. The SATs approached. I studied longer. Countless cuts on my arms. I told myself. After the exam, it ends. I won’t see their disappointed eyes anymore. But when the scores came… I sat frozen. The score dazed me. Why? I worked so hard. Dad put so much effort, Mom sacrificed so much. But I didn’t even break 1400. Forget Ivy League, even state college was luck. Sure enough, Mom and Dad’s smiles vanished. Dad whipped me with the belt, pointing at my nose. “Trash!” “Raised you all these years! Put in so much effort! And you!?” Another whip. Flesh split. Intense pain. Mom looked at me with disappointment, eyes red. The room was suffocating. Until a knock on the door. Mom wiped her tears. “Coming!” Aunt Karen and Chloe, carrying gifts. Aunt Karen beamed. “Scores are out! Lily must be high!” “Unlike our Chloe, barely passed the Ivy cutoff.” Mom’s face looked ugly. “Don’t mention it! Her score… unworthy of our sacrifice!” Glancing at me coldly. “Why are you staring! Go buy water for your cousin!” When I came back with water, about to open the door, I heard Mom’s voice. Should just let her die. That sentence echoed in my mind. Mom’s wailing brought me back. “Lily! Mom’s fault, Mom shouldn’t have said that…” “All Mom’s fault…” She slapped herself like a madwoman. I tried to stop her, but my fingers passed through her body. Dad hugged Mom, voice hoarse. “Lily is dead! Whatever you do, she won’t come back!”

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For six years, the company’s Office Admin, Sarah, has given me the worst holiday bonus gifts. While others walk away with King Crab legs and luxury gift baskets, I’m left with a styrofoam cooler full of rotting fruit. When I confronted her, she sneered, “Trash gets trash.” I didn’t argue. I kept my head down for six years, silently climbing from an invisible nobody to the Lead Project Auditor. Then came the Annual Core Bidding Meeting. I flipped through a proposal— The legal representative of the bidding company was none other than the “perfect husband” Sarah had bragged about for six years. I picked up my red pen. Under “Corporate Credit Rating,” I wrote a single digit: “0.” 1 The message from the Admin Department popped up in the company-wide Slack channel, and the office erupted. @everyone: Year-end bonuses are ready in the breakroom! Imported Cherries + Seafood Deluxe Boxes. Please line up by department~ 🎉🎉🎉 Leo, sitting next to me, jumped up, eyes shining. “Anna! The company really splurged this year!” I didn’t say a word. I closed my report on the Cold Chain Logistics project and stood up to join the line. The breakroom was packed like a subway car at rush hour. The sound of tape ripping and excited chatter mixed with the faint scent of the ocean. Distributing the gifts was, as always, Sarah. She didn’t check a list. Her eyes scanned the crowd with the precision of a facial recognition scanner. When she saw the male colleagues, especially the managers, her eyes crinkled into crescents, her voice dripping with honey: “Dave! You worked so hard! Your department is number one in sales, you deserve the best!” She pulled a box of dark, ruby-red cherries and a heavy seafood gift box from the neatly stacked front row. through the clear packaging, the spiky legs of King Crabs and massive Tiger Prawns were clearly visible. When it was Leo’s turn, Sarah’s smile got even sweeter. “Leo! The CEO praised your Tech team’s project three times in the meeting!” She stood on her tiptoes, grabbing a visibly larger box from the top shelf and shoving it into Leo’s arms. “This is the biggest one! I saved it just for you!” Leo grinned from ear to ear. “Thanks, Sarah! You’re the best!” “You deserve it,” she winked. “We’re counting on you for next year too!” Her affectionate tone was like a honey-coated razor, slicing through the fake harmony in the air. The line moved, and soon, it was my turn. I placed my badge gently on the table. In that instant— The smile on Sarah’s face vanished as if someone hit the delete button. She didn’t even look up at me. She bent down, reached into a deformed, dusty cardboard box by her feet, and pulled out a container of cherries. The top layer was withered and dark; some had split open, staining the packaging with dark red juice. Then she walked to the seafood section, used the toe of her shoe to hook a plain white styrofoam cooler from the very back, and slammed it down in front of me along with the rotten cherries. Thud. The cooler was dented in one corner. On the lid, written in black sharpie, was the word “SAMPLE.” The whole process took less than five seconds. Smooth, decisive, practiced. Whispers rippled around me: “Look, Sarah’s ‘annual show’ is back.” “Six years now, right? Anna really has patience.” “It’s not patience. Sarah just plays favorites.” “Look at the guy behind her, the new VP’s assistant. Sarah looks ready to empty the warehouse for him.” I didn’t look up. I simply reached out, calmly picking up the box of rotten cherries and the broken cooler. As I turned to leave, I heard Sarah’s voice pitch up again, sugary sweet: “Mike! You’re here! This one is the fullest, I hid it just for you!” I carried my things through the crowd and into the hallway. Leo was waiting for me around the corner, looking like he wanted to say something. He looked at the pathetic “bonus” in my hands, opened his mouth, then sighed. “Anna, why do you put up with this? She’s just shallow. She only cares about immediate benefits.” “Fighting her just hurts you,” he leaned in, lowering his voice. “If you ask me, just compliment her, buy her a boba tea. Next year she’ll give you the good stuff.” “It’s easier to deal with the devil than his minions.” I stopped. My fingers tightened slightly, leaving white marks on the plastic bag. I didn’t look at Leo. My gaze went past his shoulder, through the glass partition, back to the breakroom. Sarah was bowing attentively, helping the VP’s assistant organize his boxes, her smile blindingly bright. I withdrew my gaze, my voice calm. “I’m not putting up with it.” Leo paused. “I’m waiting.” Before he could process that, I turned and carried my boxes back to my office. Six years. Sarah, your show is about to end. Now, it’s my turn on stage. 2 It wasn’t a deep hatred between us. Not really. It barely counted as a feud. What really made me decide to fight her to the end happened during my second year at the company. That was the coldest winter of my life. My mom was diagnosed with a severe illness. The surgery costs crushed me like a mountain. I worked days, took freelance gigs at night, and spent weekends at the hospital. For three months, I slept less than four hours a night. A week before Christmas, Mom was finally discharged. But the follow-up treatments and meds required money I was terrified to calculate. After paying the final hospital bill, I stared at the number on my banking app for a long time: $13.68. The year-end bonus wouldn’t come until January. How to survive the holidays became my biggest problem. So that year, the company’s holiday bonus wasn’t just icing on the cake. It was a lifeline. Rumor said there would be rice, oil, and seafood. I thought, at least Mom and I could have a decent Christmas dinner. On distribution day, I stood in line, thinking about the $13.68 in my account. I planned to use it for vegetables if the bonus wasn’t enough. It was my turn. I placed my badge on the table, hearing my own heart pound. My face was pale, dark circles heavy under my eyes, lips cracked. She glanced at me. No sympathy, just a slight curl of her lip. A silent, utter contempt. She took a plastic bag from under the table, threw in a small bag of rice and a tiny bottle of oil. Then she went to the seafood freezer. Others got whole fish, whole lobsters. She dug around for a while, picking out a few broken crab legs, some shrimp fragments, and the smallest fish she could find, tossing them into the bag. The bag bulged, the thin plastic revealing the pathetic contents inside. My face burned hot. Blood rushed to my head, ears ringing. Shame washed over me like ice water. Maybe exhaustion broke my reason, or maybe the $13 in my pocket made me desperate. I gathered my courage, voice trembling with a plea I despised: “Sarah… could you… swap this for a normal one? My mom just got out of the hospital, she needs nutrition…” My voice was small, but she stopped. The room went quiet. Sarah looked up, eyes arrogant. “Oh, is your family special?” She lifted her chin, scanning the silent room, showing off her power. “Company benefits are for everyone, not just you! Don’t want it? Leave it! People are waiting!” Boom. The string in my mind snapped. Humiliation turned into red-hot needles, driving into my bones. I saw people look away, some with pity, others exchanging glances with Sarah, enjoying the show. Every look was a knife. I shook uncontrollably. I wanted to scream, to smash that bag into her face! But I didn’t. My mom was waiting at home. I needed that rice, that oil, even those broken crab legs. I didn’t say another word. I picked up the pathetic red plastic bag and walked away quickly, head down, under everyone’s gaze. The bag was too thin. A sharp crab leg pierced it. The hole opened and closed as I walked, like a mouth laughing silently. That night, I made porridge with the rice and soup with the seafood scraps. Mom ate happily, saying, “The company treats you so well.” I smiled and nodded, throat choked with cotton. The wind howled outside. The last bit of naive hope for “fairness” or “humanity” in my heart was crushed that winter, along with that beggar’s handout of a “bonus.” It was replaced by a clear, cold, hard thought: Dignity is never won by begging or yielding. Some debts must be collected, with interest. And Sarah… We have a long time ahead of us. 3 After that winter, I never spoke to Sarah unless it was work-related. Even when our eyes met, we looked away coldly. I threw all my energy into work. I devoured the hardest industry analyses, taught myself supply chain systems, and spent countless nights building models and running data. I once stood before the Director of Operations with a thick stack of reports, my voice calm: “We aren’t failing to penetrate this market; our method is wrong.” He frowned at first, then listened in silence. Finally, he said, “Try it.” I took on the high-end fresh food cold chain project that no one wanted. I built the partnership network from scratch, running to ports, squatting in warehouses, monitoring temperature controls personally. When partners were difficult, I smiled and accepted all demands, then returned with a flawless plan that shut them up. When my team complained it was too hard, I never explained. I just stayed up late optimizing routes. Gradually, the complaints stopped. More people followed. Year four: the first test order passed, and the client signed a long-term intent. Year five: we won the “Cold Chain Innovation of the Year” award at the industry expo. Year six: the company established the Fresh Supply Chain Division. I became the head. Reporting directly to the CEO. People who used to call me “Annie” now respectfully called me “Director Anna.” Even Leo stood straighter when he saw me. “Director Anna.” The pity in his eyes had turned into absolute caution. At the executive table, my words carried weight. I was the “problem solver” in the boss’s eyes, the sharpest nail in “Project Dawn.” My world had turned upside down. But in one corner, time seemed to have stopped. Behind the reception desk, Sarah’s attitude toward me was the same as six years ago. She could still pick the smallest, most battered box for me out of a mountain of gifts. Rotten fruit, broken boxes—like a label of humiliation I couldn’t tear off. Her smirk never changed because of my promotion. In her little game of power, I was frozen as that trembling newbie from six years ago. She even started bragging loudly about her husband in front of me: “My husband just got promoted to VP! His logistics company is a huge supplier for our group!” “He’s reliable and well-connected. If we need logistics, one word from me is better than all the effort some people put in—” After speaking, she’d glance at me. A light look, but it cut like a dull knife. Every time, I took the box calmly and walked away. No arguing, no anger. The ice lake in my heart never rippled. Because I knew— Every time she bragged, she pushed her husband’s company one step closer to the cliff. And I didn’t have to wait much longer. 4 The opportunity came fast and direct. A week before the fiscal year-end, Director Lee called me into his office. “Anna, phase one of ‘Project Dawn’ finished a month early. The board is very happy.” He handed me a file, unable to hide his excitement. “This is the plan for phase two next year. We need to integrate more efficient logistics partners to handle the order explosion.” I took the file. The paper edge was sharp against my fingertips. “You’re leading the bidding process.” Once the tender was announced, proposals flew into my office like snowflakes. My team filtered them down to three. I had to pick one. I brewed a black coffee, closed the door, and shut the blinds. First: Swift Logistics. Stable plan, but expensive. Second: JD Express. Strong systems, but inflexible. Third: Rapid Transit Logistics. I opened the cover. The company profile was beautiful, printed on glossy paper. Every line screamed “Strength” and “Connections.” Under “Core Team,” the photo of VP Chen took up half the page. Forty-something, slightly overweight, a slick smile. Resume: 15 years in logistics, deep connections, long-term partnerships with major groups. Last line, family info. Spouse: Sarah Miller. Current Front Desk Supervisor, Admin Department. I stared at that line for ten seconds. Then I leaned back and closed my eyes. The office AC hummed like a sleeping beast. My mind wasn’t filled with anger or excitement, but a cold clarity. It was as if six years of suppressed memories snapped into place, forming a complete map. That cold winter. My mom’s pale face. The laughing hole in the plastic bag. $13.68. Her contemptuous smirk. And every year, the arrogance in her eyes as she handed me trash. And every time she shouted “My husband’s company,” “My husband’s connections,” “Better than some people.” The triumphant look she threw my way. Turns out, the prey I was waiting for wasn’t Sarah. It was the mountain she stood on to step on others. And now, the lifeline of that mountain was in my hands.

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When Liam and I fought the fiercest, he cursed at me to get lost. He said, “If it wasn’t for you, I would have been with Chloe long ago.” Hearing this, I sneered. “Chloe? Are you worthy of her?” “Only I am.” “I am the optimal choice you can get.” “The top tier, understand?” 1 Chloe, my older sister. Beautiful inside and out, great grades, high IQ. It’s not surprising that Liam liked her. After all, my secret crush, Arthur, also liked her. This caused me great pain. Chloe, my sister. Such a wonderful existence, I truly couldn’t bear to do anything to her. But she just happened to be the sweetheart of my secret crush. What could I do? I could only beat up Liam. When Arthur talked to Chloe, I beat up Liam. When Arthur held hands with Chloe, I beat up Liam. When Arthur hugged Chloe, I beat up Liam. When Arthur kissed Chloe, I beat up Liam. When Arthur and Chloe got together, I wailed and beat up Liam. It’s not that Liam didn’t think about fighting back. But he couldn’t beat me. Although he’s taller than me and has eight-pack abs. All his workouts were for body sculpting, hoping Chloe would lust after his beauty. I was different. I learned kickboxing, Taekwondo, and Jiu-Jitsu. Thinking that if Chloe ever abandoned Arthur, I would lock him up, hehehe. So we waited and waited, and then Arthur and Chloe got married. One of us gave the bride away, the other welcomed the groom, both crying like two dogs. Everyone said they were a loving uncle and nephew, and we were deeply affectionate sisters. (Note: Arthur is Liam’s young uncle). But they didn’t know how badly we wanted to crash the wedding. We didn’t do it; our last shred of moral standard restrained us. That time, I didn’t beat up Liam. We got wasted, hugged each other and cried bitterly, and then started making out. 2 Yes, that’s right, we slept together. Whether Liam was driven by alcohol-induced lust, I don’t know. Anyway, I wasn’t. I was just giving up on myself. If I couldn’t give myself to the person I loved the most, then I’d give it to someone with a good face. If I can’t give myself to the person I love most. Giving it to a dog is the same. Later, we slept together many more times. Passionate in bed. Once out of bed, we warned each other. “Friends with benefits, understand? Don’t get clingy!” Finally, our parents started rushing us to get married. First was Liam’s dad. He tagged him in the family group chat. [Look at your young uncle, how happy he is after getting married, deeply in love with your aunt, aren’t you envious?] At that time, Liam was drunk. Replied: [Envious. So should I marry my aunt too?] One sentence literally stunned the group chat into silence for five minutes. His dad sent over a dozen sixty-second voice messages in a row. His mom roared: “Are you trying to tear this family apart?” His aunt (my sister) sent a question mark. His uncle sent a polite smile emoji. Liam knew he was dead meat. So he slid onto his knees, hugging his dad’s thigh. “I meant my aunt’s sister. Since my aunt is so wonderful, her sister can’t be bad either. I want to marry my aunt’s sister.” 3 How great. How beautiful this world is. The person I loved the most became my brother-in-law. And I could marry my nemesis, making my brother-in-law my young uncle at the same time. Sure enough, the world is a circle. Liam knelt before me. “I know you saved my dog life, I’ll agree to anything!” I nodded, my voice calm. “Then go die.” “That won’t work.” “Then I’ll kill you.” I hadn’t beaten up Liam in a long time. Out of practice, I actually forgot to lock the door. Just as I was straddling his waist, ready to unleash a flurry of punches on him, his parents, my parents, plus my sister and Arthur, all stood outside the door at the same time. Their eyes full of benevolence, like holy halos, blinded my dog eyes. They nodded one after another. “So wonderful.” “We didn’t even know these two kids were together.” “Adding family ties to family ties.” “Simply wonderful.” “Get married, get married immediately.” I compromised. Let’s marry. Gotta get married eventually, who cares to who? 3 (Continued) On our wedding night, Liam set three rules with me. “A marriage of convenience, right? You play your way, I play mine.” I shook my head. “If I meet someone I like, you can’t stop me.” I shook my head. “Then if I want to go out and have fun, you can’t control that, right?” I shook my head, then nodded. Liam broke down. “What do you mean?” “Mia, you don’t actually like me, do you?!” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and immediately gave him a hard slap on the head. “Do I not need face?” “You are Mia’s man, yet you’re hugging and kissing others, and I have to turn a blind eye?” “Let everyone know I’m wearing a green hat (being cuckolded)?” “Liam, I’m warning you, if you dare to step out of line, I’ll break your legs.” I, Mia. Grew up with a strong sense of entitlement. In this world, there is only what I don’t want, nothing I can’t get. Of course, Arthur being the exception. Losing to Chloe, I don’t feel ashamed. But if Liam dared to make me lose face… Hehe, I have plenty of strength and means. 4 But Liam was just not one to stay in line. He went on a date. The date was a college student. He took the little girl to eat Western food, considerately cutting her steak for her. Then took her to a movie, always casually lowering his head, making the little girl blush. Finally dropped the little girl back at school, hugging her gentlemanly and restrainedly. Acting like a proper human being. The photos were sent to me by a private investigator. Liam hadn’t been acting normal recently. Always staring at his phone, raising his eyebrows, curling his lips, and even using emojis he never used before. Even his profile picture changed to a view of his own back. A glance and you know he didn’t take it himself. And he wouldn’t be so vain as to have a guy take it for him. So it could only be the opposite sex. Which opposite sex? Around Liam, no one who knows of my existence dares to get close. So it must be someone who doesn’t know about me, not in our circle. Outside the circle? That leaves even more room for imagination. So I hired a marriage mediator (PI) to follow Liam. 4 (Continued) Today is his third day following Liam. Leaving home in the morning, Liam looked in the mirror for ages, styling every strand of hair. He dressed ordinarily, specifically choosing an outfit without visible logos. Even grabbed a cup of fresh milk from the fridge. I asked him where he was going. He said playing poker. Looking at it now, he wasn’t playing poker, he was inspecting the goods. Looking at the photos, I was very calm. Calmly finished my meetings, calmly got off work, calmly went home. Calmly took out the bottle of wine Liam treasured the most from the wine cabinet. Liam’s car pulled in. I stood there calmly. He got out of the car. “What are you doing here…” Before he could finish, I raised the wine bottle and smashed it over. “F*ck!” Liam turned pale with fright and quickly dodged. His car wasn’t so lucky, smashing into pieces, a mess all over the ground. “Are you crazy? What nerve are you tweaking?” I didn’t say a word. Raised a foot and kicked him right in the stomach. Liam stumbled back repeatedly and fell to the ground. I pressed down, my knee digging into the soft flesh of his stomach. Slapped the photos onto his face with a smack, smack sound. “Giving me a green hat? Do you have a death wish?” Liam’s face, originally full of anger, turned to embarrassment after hearing my words. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t even do anything, get off me.” I sneered and increased the pressure. Liam let out a muffled groan. “Are you done? Do you think I don’t dare touch you?” “Then show me.” As soon as my words fell, Liam suddenly raised his leg and thrust upward fiercely. As I lunged at him, he flipped over and pinned me underneath. He looked smug. “Did you really think I couldn’t beat you? I was letting you win, understand?” My face turned extremely ugly. I raised my head, opened my mouth, and bit down hard on his arm. Liam let out a howl. “Are you sick!” “I didn’t even really do anything.” “Is this necessary?” With a cold face, I kicked him off me. “Is it necessary? What, do I have to catch you in bed?” “Can you not speak so harshly?” “You think my words are harsh? Are your actions any prettier?” “What did I do? Look at you instead.” He pointed to the wine on the ground. “Do you know how much that wine costs? Do you know how many people I had to ask? Mia, you are truly sick!” He fired off sentence after sentence. I watched him squat down, picking up the glass shards with a pained expression. Watched him glare at me with vicious eyes. The photos were still in my hand, crumpled out of shape by me. Finally, I swung my arm and threw the photos at his face. “Divorce!” “I’m f*cking divorcing you!”

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The brother I picked up turned out to be a real-life young master from a wealthy family. After returning to his billionaire family and becoming the despised outcast, he wanted to commit suicide out of despair. I grinned: “Bro, hurry up and die.” “I have my eye on this punk. Only if you die can I hold your funeral photo and morally blackmail him into dating me.” “Oh, also, I borrowed 3 million dollars from the village in your name.” “If he doesn’t agree, I’ll use this money to hire someone to lock him up and force him to love me.” “Best if I get pregnant with his kid and bind him to me for life.” Pfft— He sprayed out 20 sleeping pills. Then he got up and rinsed his mouth eight hundred times. 1 When I was four, I wanted a brother. The girl next door, Jenny, had a brother who wove grasshoppers for her and carried her across the river. I was green with envy. So I asked my mom if she could give me a brother. My mom, who had been playing “golf” (farming) in the fields all day, laughed angrily. “I can’t birth one. Go find someone who can.” I was obedient from a young age. So I kowtowed to Big Yellow, the dog who could birth 10 puppies in a litter: “Big Yellow, I accept you as my mom. Can you give me a brother? Please.” Early the next morning, I was woken by Big Yellow’s unusual low barking. In the faint morning light, Big Yellow was gently nudging a shadow curled up by the haystack with his nose. It was a little boy. His clothes were torn, his face too dirty to see clearly, but his eyes were exceptionally bright. He hugged his arms, shivering slightly. I cheered: “Good job, Big Yellow! You really gave me a brother!” I am very loyal. I turned and shouted to my mom who came out hearing the noise: “Auntie! I have a brother!” Then I rushed to hug Big Yellow’s neck and called him Mom. “Lily! Evans!” My mom roared, holding a spatula. I didn’t know why she was angry, but her beating was very graceful. 2 After beating me, she boiled hot water and let the boy take a bath. When he came out clean and sat at our dining table, I finally saw his face clearly. Who would have thought, Big Yellow, a country dog, gave birth to such a stylish person! His features looked like they were painted; extremely good-looking. Compared to him, Jenny’s brother looked like a scribble. He didn’t look at me, staring unblinkingly at the bowl of rice on the table— Rice mixed with meat broth, topped with several pieces of soft stewed ribs. So I pushed the bowl generously in front of him: “Brother, eat! Don’t be shy!” As if he finally couldn’t hold back, he picked up the bowl, eating in small bites at first. Then he started wolfing it down, gasping from the heat but not stopping. Just then, my mom came out of the kitchen with two bowls of rib noodles. Seeing this scene, her face turned black as the bottom of a pot. 3 She rushed over and grabbed my ear: “That’s dog food! Big Yellow’s dog food! Who told you to give guests dog food?!” “Ouch ouch ouch, it hurts!” My ear was twisted numb, I jumped and shouted, “You said it was Big Yellow’s dog food, and Big Yellow didn’t say anything!” “Besides, Big Yellow’s food is delicious, I’ve eaten it too.” These words completely ignited my mom’s anger. She raised her hand to smack my butt: “So you not eating well every day is because you steal Big Yellow’s food?” Just then, a very thin hand suddenly reached out and gently pulled my mom’s shirt. The little brother had stood up at some point. He looked up slightly, his eyes full of caution: “A-Auntie… it’s okay, that rice is very fragrant…” “Can I… eat a few more bites?” “I haven’t eaten for two days… so hungry…” 4 My mom’s hand froze in mid-air, looking down at the boy who only reached her chest. He was too thin. His exposed wrist was so slender it looked like it would snap with a little force. At this moment, he was swallowing nervously, his eyes glancing uncontrollably at the bowl of dog food on the table. “What a sin…” She grabbed the little brother and put the noodles covered in ribs in front of him. “Child, eat! Eat as much as you want! There’s plenty!” Then she turned and rushed back to the kitchen, pots and pans clanging. In a while, she brought out a large plate of golden fried eggs. “Eat, child, eat slowly.” My mom kept putting eggs in his bowl, her eyes red. When he was full, holding the bowl and sipping the noodle soup. My mom asked carefully. “Child.” “Tell Auntie, how… did you get so hungry?” 5 The little brother’s fingers holding the bowl tightened, knuckles turning white. He lowered his eyes, staring at the chopped green onions floating in the soup, silent for a long time. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, he suddenly spoke: “They… are not my biological parents.” “They beat me and didn’t give me food. So I ran away.” My mom’s tears fell instantly. She turned sideways and wiped her face hard with her sleeve. 6 After eating, I tugged at my mom’s sleeve: “Mom! Can we let the little brother stay and be my brother?” My mom glared at me: “Why ask me? He has to be willing to be your brother!” I didn’t know how to make him willing. So I went to ask the sister next door. She was the first college student in the village, very cultured! Although villagers said she couldn’t even spell “monkey,” a useless scholar. I ran to the sister’s house. She was sitting on a small stool in the yard. —Hair clipped up messily, floral cotton pants paired with a tight down jacket. Me: ??? Didn’t Mom always say city people are the most fashionable? Why did sister dress like my grandma after two years of college? 7 “Sister, I…” I suddenly felt a bit shy, “I have a friend who wants a boy she just met to be her brother. What should she do?” “Yo yo yo~ Just a brother~? Only a kid like you believes that~” The sister, who was playing with her phone, suddenly got interested and revealed an evil smile. “But this is easy! Let your friend—take her best friend and kneel to beg him!” “Must… must kneel?” I felt my knees starting to hurt. “Of course!” The sister said decisively, “That shows sincerity!” I gritted my teeth: “Fine, but who is the best friend?” “The very best friend.” 8 My best friend is Big Yellow. So when the little brother finished using the toilet, he saw a person and a dog kneeling at the outhouse entrance. His pale face cracked instantly. From initial confusion, to shock after seeing our posture, then to helpless panic. He subconsciously took half a step back, almost stepping into the cesspit behind him. “You… you guys…” “Please stay and be my brother!” I shouted with full energy, “Big Yellow and I beg you together!” Just then, my mom came out to pour a basin of dirty water. 9 “Lily! Evans!” Her roar shook the sky, “What are you doing kneeling at the outhouse with Big Yellow! Get up!” Just when my mom was about to put down the basin and twist my ear. The little brother suddenly took a small step forward and bent down slightly. Using those hands so thin you could see the bones, he gently held my arm. “Get up.” His voice was very soft, “I… haven’t been a brother…” “But… I will try my best.” 10 From that day on, I, Lily Evans, had a brother. Mom renamed him—Ethan. Ethan was the best brother in the world. I secretly wore Mom’s precious high heels at home to be pretty, but accidentally broke the heel. Scared, I cried while writing a suicide note on the table. He heard the noise and came in, looked at the crooked “suicide note” on the table. Looked at my tear-stained face, and said nothing. When Mom came back and threw a fit, he took the blame for me like a martyr: “Mom, sorry, it was me… I accidentally broke your high heels.” My mom was shocked, taking out her broken lipstick and soiled dress: “These… you did these too?” Ethan glared at me fiercely, then closed his eyes in despair: “Yes. I thought they looked nice, so I tried them on.” My mom was silent for a long time, wanting to speak but stopping, finally squeezing out a sentence: “…Son, your hobbies are quite broad.” 11 Ethan was also the worst brother in the world. When I super accidentally forgot my homework at school. And cried at home for a whole day: “Doomed, can’t do homework today, can only watch cartoons hehe oh no boohoo~~” My brother, who was running a fever, sat up from his deathbed. Walked a mile to get my homework back. He slapped the homework in front of me with a pap. Corner of his mouth harder to suppress than an AK: “Write.” Me: ??? 12 Days passed like flowing water. In middle school. I was crowned the “Golden Microphone” by teachers for talking too much. Ethan, two years older, scored 748 raw points in the high school entrance exam, becoming the city’s top scholar. 13-year-old Big Yellow became a grandma. We all had a bright future. In high school. Ethan won first prize in the National High School Math League. My autistic deskmate was “talk-therapied” by me into a Silver Microphone. Big Yellow’s son, Little Yellow, was neutered by my mom for being too flirtatious. The Yellow family line ended! We… cling to my brother’s thigh!! Bro! Don’t forget us when you’re rich! 13 However, Big Yellow and I never expected. My brother would get rich so fast! Just won the first prize in the National Math League. Immediately after, because he was too handsome among a group of nerds, he went viral overnight. A photo of him receiving the award got over a million likes on TikTok, and the comments section exploded— “The third brother on the right is killing it! No lighting, no makeup, pure hard handsome!” “Just asking, is this the National Handsome Guy First Prize?” “Am I the only one who thinks… he looks like a certain billionaire Mr. Vance from the capital???” This comment was upvoted to the top. Then, another video was dug up— A silhouette of Arthur Vance flashing past in financial news. Two faces placed side by side, simply like looking in a mirror. So overnight again. My brother became a real billionaire heir. Bro, I know your future is bright, but isn’t this too bright? 14 When a man achieves the Dao, his poultry and dogs ascend to heaven. My mom’s entertainment changed from golfing in the fields to playing mahjong at the village entrance. Big Yellow’s afternoon tea changed from leftovers to imported dog food. I also transferred from the rotten high school in town to a noble school in the capital. My brother is benevolent!! However, since returning to the wealthy family to be a young master, he became very busy. We rarely met. So sad, missed him so much, so I often messaged him. Me: Bro, miss you, are you doing well there? Is the allowance enough? If enough, share some. Cat reaching out.jpg. Brother (ATM Version): How much? Before I replied. He transferred ten thousand. Brother (ATM Version): Afraid you’re not used to living at school, rented you a house at the school gate. Brother (ATM Version): If anyone bullies you at the new school, tell me. No dating! No dating! Understand? Me: Cat nodding.gif. Don’t know why, my brother always seemed afraid city people would bully me. He said this many times. Making me a bit scared too. Do city people look down on us country folks? 15 So on the day of reporting to the new school, I brought Little Yellow (Big Yellow’s son) for protection. Just sat down, a few rich second-generation kids staggered around me. The leading boy looked me up and down, a playful smile on his lips: “Hey, new here? Heard… you’re the one transferred from some village, from the same place as Ethan Vance (formerly Ethan)?” My heart skipped a beat, clutching my bag strap, nodding silently. A girl with exquisite makeup beside him looked at me with a light smile, from my canvas shoes to my ponytail. My heart was in my throat, my brother’s warnings flashing in my mind, And those bullying transfer student scenes in TV dramas. Doomed, doomed… Unexpectedly, the girl’s eyes lit up: “Great! She’s really from the countryside!” Me: “???” 16 The boy beside her was incredibly excited. “You guys from the countryside must study very hard. Math must be super awesome like Ethan Vance, right?” “Not gonna lie, you look like a mathematician!” Me: ??? Mathematician?? Who??? Me with 30 points??? But before I could speak. He took out a stack of test papers, slapped them on my desk. “God, help a brother out.” He put his hands together in a pleading gesture, “These, due this afternoon. Name your price!” I tentatively extended a hand. “Five…” Before I could say “bucks”. “Five thousand?” He froze. 17 Then the group of people around him sighed in relief, showing expressions of “what a bargain”. “No problem!” “Last time I offered Ethan Vance fifty thousand a sheet, he told me to get lost. You are truly benevolent!” Afraid I would regret, he immediately finalized it. “There are ten papers here, fifty thousand, I’ll transfer it now!” I looked at the payment notification on my phone. Head buzzing, five… fifty thousand just like that? Who said city people are bad? City people are too good! I started writing papers diligently. Although I couldn’t understand the questions, I wrote extremely seriously. Neat handwriting, clean paper, every page filled. But it was all gibberish. He only asked me to finish, didn’t ask me to be right! So I finished before noon. When I handed it to them, they were shocked by my speed as heavenly. Saying everywhere I was the reincarnation of Euler.

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I’m fiercely protective of my own, no questions asked. Loyalty over rules, always. When I was a kid, if my dog got picked on, I’d grab a knife and chase the culprits three blocks for revenge. Later, at work, if my team had a dispute, I didn’t care who was right—only who won. But my boss’s wife, Vanessa, never understood this. At the company’s holiday party, she walked over, glass in hand, and pointed to one of my top salespeople. “This girl looks familiar. Yesterday, I saw her checking into a hotel with an old man in broad daylight, just to close a deal. Young people will do anything for money.” She smiled sweetly. “You should be careful. People like that often carry diseases.” The room erupted. Everyone turned on Emma, whispering insults. She tried to explain, but as an ordinary employee, her voice was drowned out. She was trembling, on the verge of a panic attack—a sign her depression was returning. I stepped in front of her, my smile calm, but my words icy. “Vanessa, you’ll apologize to Emma in front of everyone—or I’ll reveal some things you’d rather keep private, right here, right now.” … Mark, the Finance Manager, sidled over with his drink, patting my shoulder. “Sarah, don’t be so impulsive.” “Vanessa is just a straightforward person; she didn’t mean anything by it. You’re in a crucial stage of your career, with limitless potential.” “It’s not worth getting into a fight with the boss’s wife over a regular employee. It’s not worth it.” Fiona, the Admin Supervisor, chimed in, a hint of disdain in her eyes as she glanced at Emma. “Exactly, Sarah. Vanessa was just kindly reminding you. Don’t let your subordinates drag you down.” “She’s looking out for you, don’t be ungrateful.” A smug look spread across Vanessa’s face. She slowly pointed at Emma. “Manager Klein, I believe an employee who taints the company’s atmosphere like this is a liability.” “How about this, if you agree to fire her, I’ll give you a fifty percent raise.” “And I guarantee your department will receive the best resources. What do you say?” The private room fell silent for a few seconds, then a collective gasp went around. “Oh my goodness, a fifty percent raise!” “Manager Klein hit the jackpot! Just by firing one employee, she’ll earn hundreds of thousands more each year.” Brenda, the HR Supervisor, immediately stood up and walked over to Emma, her tone full of disdain. “The boss’s wife has spoken, so hurry up and leave. What are you waiting for?” “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself for doing such dirty things?” Emma looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. She choked out, “I didn’t do anything. Why are you slandering me?” But no one paid attention to her, because the dignity of a junior employee was not worth their consideration. I turned back to Vanessa, my smile completely gone, my eyes radiating an unyielding determination. “Vanessa, do you not understand me?” “Then I’ll say it again. Emma is my person, and no one touches her.” The smugness on Vanessa’s face froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to be so disrespectful. Her face darkened. “Sarah Klein, don’t push your luck! I’m the owner’s wife of this company!” The atmosphere in the private room instantly plummeted to freezing point. Everyone fell silent. Emma cried uncontrollably. “Sarah, it’s alright…” “Don’t jeopardize your future because of me. I’m not worth it.” I glared at her. “What are you crying for? I’m here. Let’s see who dares to bully you.” Vanessa’s chest heaved with anger. She pointed at me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sarah Klein, you’re defending her so fiercely. Is there something unsavory going on between you two?” My colleagues’ gazes turned to me, filled with doubt and speculation. “Manager Klein’s department always has such good performance. So, this is how they achieve it? What an eye-opener.” “I used to wonder why all the company’s big contracts were signed by their department. Turns out it’s all through selling themselves.” I placed my hands on my hips, my voice cutting through their whispers like a blade. “You can spout nonsense, but you can’t make baseless accusations! Slander is a crime!” “Every achievement in our department is earned through everyone’s hard work and effort.” “Emma, our top sales associate, works overtime every day until late at night. Are you all blind?” “With a single baseless remark, you dismiss all her efforts and defame her character?” “Are you all out of your minds?” Vanessa hadn’t expected me to retort so loudly in such a situation. She immediately put on a show of being deeply wronged, her eyes reddening, tears starting to fall. “Manager Klein, I’m doing this for the good of the company! If this kind of behavior spreads, how will the company ever grow?” “I know you want high performance and commissions, but we can’t go against our conscience!” She cried, her face tear-streaked like a pear blossom bathed in rain. Everyone around us looked at her with sympathy. I was a founding employee of the company, building it from the ground up with the owner, Mr. Evans. Countless sleepless nights had led to its current scale. Mr. Evans still held some regard in my heart. For his sake, I forced down my anger. “Vanessa, you must have seen wrong yesterday. Emma would never do such a thing.” “She’s young, unmarried, and she still needs to establish herself in this industry.” “A single remark from you could ruin her entire life.” “I’m asking you to apologize to her in front of everyone today. Is that too much to ask?” I offered her an out, but Vanessa wouldn’t take it. As if gravely wronged, she clutched her stomach and crouched down. Crying, she wailed, “Oh, my stomach… my baby.” Just then, the private room door opened, and Mr. Evans, the owner, walked in. The moment he saw Vanessa crouched on the floor crying, his face instantly filled with alarm. “What’s wrong, darling? What happened?” Vanessa threw herself into Mr. Evans’s arms, sobbing. “Honey, I just kindly reminded Manager Klein to manage her employees properly, and she was so mean to me.” “You know how difficult it is for me to conceive at my age. How could she treat me like this…?” Mr. Evans lovingly embraced Vanessa, comforting her constantly. When he turned to look at me, his eyes were filled with anger and disappointment. “Sarah Klein, was that really necessary?” “We’ve worked side by side for over 20 years, and you’d disrespect me like this?” “You should also know, I’m almost 50 now!” “My biggest regret all these years has been not having a child of my own.” “Now that Vanessa is pregnant, I want to treat her like royalty. Why are you making things difficult for her?” Meeting his anger, I calmly said, “Mr. Evans, Emma is innocent. I have proof.” I immediately took out my tablet from my bag and opened Emma’s work schedule. It clearly stated that she was to attend the City West Industry Summit all day yesterday. Before Mr. Evans could speak, Vanessa leaned in. “Isn’t that perfect?” “The industry summit is full of rich and powerful old men. Isn’t that a great opportunity for her to make connections?” I ignored her and opened my phone. I found the official live-streaming platform for the summit and downloaded the full replay from yesterday. I fast-forwarded the playback, and the screen clearly showed the live footage from the summit. From 9 AM when the summit began until 8 PM when it ended, Emma’s figure consistently appeared in the frame. She had not left the venue for a single step the entire time. I turned off my phone and looked at Mr. Evans. “Mr. Evans, Emma simply didn’t have the time to do what Vanessa is claiming yesterday.” “Emma joined the company two years ago. In these two years, she has been diligent and hardworking.” “She’s so young, it’s terribly unfair for her to suffer such baseless accusations.” I paused, my tone firm. “Mr. Evans, I demand that Vanessa apologize to her and allow the young woman to work and live normally.” Vanessa’s face turned very ugly, her eyes darting nervously. She clutched her stomach, looking wronged. “Honey, but I really wasn’t lying.” “My memory hasn’t been good since I got pregnant, so I might have gotten the time wrong.” “But I truly saw Emma go into a hotel room with a client!” “I swear on the health of the baby in my belly, I absolutely did not deliberately slander her.” Mr. Evans held Vanessa even tighter, looking at me with great impatience. “I trust Vanessa’s character. She’s not the type of person who would deliberately slander someone.” “Besides, there’s no smoke without fire. If Emma really had no issues, why would she be misunderstood?” “Sarah Klein, I am now telling you, as the Chairman of the company, this matter ends here!” “This employee, Emma, cannot stay with the company.” “You are to dismiss her immediately, right now!” “Otherwise, you’re out too!” Seeing Mr. Evans’s outburst, the people around us quickly chimed in. “Mr. Evans is right. Such a controversial employee definitely shouldn’t stay with the company.” “Manager Klein, just listen to Mr. Evans. Don’t insist any longer, it’s not worth it.” “Exactly, losing your own job for an employee is too costly.” I looked at Emma’s tear-reddened eyes, a pang of sadness in my heart. My department, though small in number, was comprised of elite, hand-picked individuals. We supported each other in this unfamiliar city. Having worked hard together for so many years, we were like family. Emma was the youngest in the department, and also the most dedicated. I couldn’t stand by and watch her be slandered like this. I looked at Vanessa coldly, giving her one last chance. “Vanessa, the young woman grew up in a single-parent family.” “Her father abandoned them for another woman after he became successful. Her mother’s health isn’t good, so she’s had a very tough life.” “I advise you to stop. Admit your mistake now, and it will be a good deed for the baby in your belly.” But Vanessa again clutched her stomach, her brows furrowed. She said painfully, “Honey, my stomach hurts so much.” “The baby seems to know I’m being bullied…” Mr. Evans immediately became anxious, roaring at me, “Sarah Klein! What are you waiting for? Fire Emma now!” “If anything happens to Vanessa and the baby, I’m not done with you!” I looked at Mr. Evans’s anxious face, then at Vanessa’s feigned expression of suffering. The last flicker of hesitation in my heart vanished. A cold smile played on my lips. “Alright, since there’s nowhere left to retreat, I won’t retreat at all.” Vanessa turned and shouted, “Where’s the HR Supervisor? Get over here!”

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While waiting for my prenatal scan, a girl bumped into me, sending me to the floor. A faint but clear red stain spread across my pants. Sharp pain shot through my stomach. I reached for my phone to call the police, but the girl, trembling like a frightened rabbit, begged, “Please, don’t call the police.” I stared at her, voice icy. “If something happens to my baby, who will take responsibility?” She hesitated, then said, “My boyfriend is a famous obstetrician here. He’ll take care of you. Let me call him.” The call connected immediately. From afar, I heard a man’s panicked, scolding voice. “I told you to use the family lane, but you refused. Don’t you know you’re fragile? The first trimester is critical.” “You can be mad at me, but not about our baby, okay? I’m coming now. Don’t cry. I’m here.” When the man in the white coat rushed toward us, full of worry, I realized—he was my own husband. The same one who had banned me from the family lane, calling it “causing trouble.” 1 The moment Marcus appeared, the pain in my stomach seemed to intensify, a dense, searing ache that brought tears to my eyes. Through a watery haze, I watched the man who had given me a tender good-morning kiss just hours ago. Now, his eyes saw no one but the girl on the floor, Laura. “Are you scared? Are you feeling sick? I told you to use the family access lane, but you wouldn’t listen. Now you see,” Marcus said, his tone sharp but his voice trembling with a thick undercurrent of worry. The hand he used to wipe away Laura’s tears was white-knuckled with tension. Laura looked up at him, her voice a soft whisper. “I didn’t want to cause you any trouble.” Marcus’s jaw clenched. “There’s nothing I want more than for you to rely on me, Laura. I fought to get to this position so that you could depend on me, so that I would be the first person you think of when you’re scared.” “I want to solve all your problems, you understand?” His words sucked the air from my lungs. I couldn’t even find the strength to prop myself up. Amid the gasps of the onlookers, my body went limp, and I slumped to the floor. I had heard Marcus say those things before, but they had been the exact opposite of what he was saying now. Early in my pregnancy, it was a high-risk situation. I was spotting every day, and getting an appointment with a good obstetrician was nearly impossible. One evening, I tried to coax Marcus, who had just gotten home. “I remember that senior doctors and professors have special access for their families. Honey, the check-ups are so exhausting. Could you apply for a spot for me?” At the time, Marcus had paused, his hands still on his scarf. He looked at me, his face a blank mask. “Vivienne, please, don’t make my life harder than it already is.” My hand, resting on his arm, froze. I looked up at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend how the loving husband I knew could say something so cruel. “I’m a senior consultant, yes,” he continued, “but if I make an exception for you, do you have any idea what the other patients, the ones you’re cutting in front of, will say? What my overworked colleagues will whisper behind my back?” “I’m up for a major promotion next year. Your casual request for ‘special treatment’ creates huge problems for me. I’m already exhausted from dealing with work and hospital politics.” “Vivienne, you used to be so understanding. How has being pregnant made you so selfish?” It felt like a physical blow to my heart. “I’m sorry,” I managed to say, my voice dry. “I was just so scared something would happen to the baby we’ve waited so long for.” Marcus and I had been married for five years. We’d gone through countless medications, endless tests, and finally conceived through IVF. After all that struggle, to finally have our baby, only to see blood every day… a deep, gnawing fear had taken root inside me. Now, Marcus’s words had made it bloom into full-blown terror. My breath hitched, and for a moment, I could barely see his face. He was still talking. “I’m an obstetrician, Vivienne. I know better than anyone if there’s a problem with the baby. Don’t be so dramatic.” It was only when he noticed how pale I’d become that he sighed, his voice softening into a placating tone. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to our child. Don’t you trust me? There, there, don’t cry.” So I swallowed my hurt. For every check-up, I obediently waited in line for two hours. I never even asked Marcus to come with me, afraid I would be a distraction from his important work. And this was my reward. To see him practically begging another woman to be a “trouble” to him. The family access he refused to get for me… he had been saving it for someone else all along. The man still fussing over Laura finally turned, his expression impatient. But the moment he saw the blood pooling beneath me, his pupils contracted. He reached out for me by pure reflex. With the last of my strength, I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” I hissed. Then, my head lolled to the side, and the world went dark. Through the fog, I could hear Marcus’s frantic voice. “Vivienne, hold on! I’m going to save you, I promise.” “Massive hemorrhaging, high-risk miscarriage! Prep an operating room, now!” A nurse spoke up hesitantly. “Dr. Reid, you have that national medical conference to present at soon…” Marcus cut her off. “No one else can save this baby. I have to do the surgery myself. I’ll take full responsibility for missing the lecture.” My hands clenched together unconsciously. Tears streamed from my closed eyes, but a small part of me felt a sliver of relief. I let go, surrendering to the blackness. Thank God. Marcus still cared about our baby. With him here, I wouldn’t lose our little life. I don’t know how much time passed. My eyelids fluttered open. I was still in the operating room, the surgical light blinding me. 2 I’ve always had a low tolerance for anesthesia. Marcus knew this; he would never have let me wake up mid-procedure. A sharp, slicing pain radiated from my lower abdomen. A terrible premonition washed over me. I forced myself to sit up, my eyes falling on a stranger’s face. He was making the first incision on my belly. My world narrowed to a single point of terror. “Who are you?” I shrieked. “Why aren’t you Marcus? Where is he?” “Marcus said he would save my baby! He was going to skip his lecture to operate on me! Why is it you? You’re in the wrong room, right?” The other doctor, a Dr. Peterson, was startled by my sudden awakening. “Ms. Scott,” he said, recovering quickly, “your condition is critical. If we don’t operate now, we might not be able to save your uterus.” “Right before you were brought in, a patient named Laura collapsed from shock. Dr. Reid is with her, stabilizing her pregnancy.” “Dr. Reid said her appointment was scheduled before yours. Even though you’re his wife, he can’t break the rules. But he’s been very responsible,” Dr. Peterson added quickly. “He specifically asked me to handle your surgery. I’m the only one here who can guarantee we save your uterus.” But I didn’t want my uterus. I wanted my baby. I could still feel a faint, fluttering heartbeat inside me. My baby hadn’t even had a chance to see the world. He had fought so hard to grow this big. I hadn’t even had the chance to call him by his nickname, Kicker. I couldn’t just let him die. Gritting my teeth, I shoved the doctor away. Clutching my bleeding abdomen, I ignored the searing pain and stumbled off the operating table. I staggered through the hallway, screaming Marcus’s name. “Marcus, come out! I’m begging you, save our baby! You promised you would protect him!” “Marcus, I’m not angry anymore! If you just save our baby, I’ll pretend today never happened! We waited so long for him! Last night, he kicked your hand, don’t you remember?” “Please, don’t be so cruel! I’m begging you, save him!” Staff and patients stared at me, whispering amongst themselves. “Is that woman crazy? Dr. Reid is in the middle of surgery.” “I think that’s his wife. But even so, she can’t just demand he abandon another patient to save her. So selfish.” I didn’t care about their scornful words. I just kept crying his name, a desperate, wounded sound. The bleeding, which had never really stopped, now flowed freely down my legs, leaving a gruesome trail of red in my wake. Dr. Peterson caught up to me, trying to support my swaying body. “Are you trying to kill yourself? It’s just a baby! You and Dr. Reid can have another one later!” I shoved him away with a stubborn fury. As long as there was a sliver of hope for my baby, I wouldn’t give up. Finally, I found him. He was in another operating room. He was focused, his expression grim as he worked. A spark of hope ignited in me. I pressed myself against the viewing window. “Marcus! Our baby is still alive! He’s still alive! Please, just this once, make an exception for me!” “I can’t lose him, Marcus. I really can’t.” When my hands grew too weak, I resorted to banging my head against the glass, praying he would see me. Marcus’s steady hand trembled. He slowly looked up, and his eyes met mine. I saw his body stiffen. I didn’t care. I poured all my remaining energy into my plea, begging him to choose me, just this once. But then, Laura, on the operating table, moaned and frowned in discomfort. Marcus’s gaze immediately snapped back to her. I saw the mask move as he spoke. A nurse came out and, without a word, injected a syringe into my arm. The last of my strength drained away, and I collapsed to the floor. The nurse spoke to Dr. Peterson, who was still standing behind me. “Dr. Reid said she has a low tolerance for anesthesia, so you need to increase the dosage. He said if the baby can’t be saved, it can’t be saved. Just make sure you save the uterus.” “His procedure is at a critical stage. If you can’t control your patient and she disturbs him again, he’ll make sure you fail your next performance review.” 3 The operating room doors swung shut again. My eyes were wide open, tears streaming silently down my face as I was pushed back inside, utterly defeated. I was conscious enough to feel the scalpel slice open my belly. I felt them remove the child, the one who was part of my own flesh and blood, from my womb. I saw them toss his tiny, silent body into a waste bin. My eyes followed that bin until it was wheeled away, disappearing from my sight forever. A wave of dizziness washed over me. The pain in my abdomen spread to my heart, a crushing agony that made it impossible to breathe. The stitching was quick. Dr. Peterson wiped the sweat from his brow. “We saved the uterus.” “Ms. Scott, don’t blame Dr. Reid. For him, the patient’s needs always come first.” “Besides, he’s never pulled strings at the hospital before, never asked for a VIP room. This time, he was very firm about getting one for his family. He does care about you. As his wife, you need to support his work.” Dr. Peterson chattered on, defending Marcus. I stared at the white light on the ceiling, my hands pressing down on my now-flat stomach in a gesture of self-punishment. A cold laugh escaped my lips. “So I should thank him?” Dr. Peterson fell silent and pushed open the door to a VIP room. “You should get some rest. Dr. Reid will be here to see you soon…” He didn’t finish his sentence. I turned my head and looked into the room. Marcus was there, cradling a sleeping Laura in his arms, gently wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “I know you’re a light sleeper,” he murmured. “I specifically requested this room for you. Don’t worry about anything else. I’m here. Our baby is going to be born healthy and strong.” Noticing the movement at the door, Marcus looked up and saw my ashen face. His lips tightened into a thin line. Dr. Peterson quickly pulled my gurney back, stammering an apology to Marcus. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Reid. I heard you requested a room for family, so I brought Ms. Scott here…” Even then, Marcus carefully settled Laura back onto the bed before he came out to face me. He even had the presence of mind to gently close the door, so she wouldn’t be disturbed. He rubbed his temples and dismissed Dr. Peterson. Then, he finally met my gaze. “Vivienne, Laura just had a major scare. She needs quiet to rest and keep the baby safe. I’ve already lost one child today. I can’t lose another.” “I know I’ve wronged you in this… Vivienne, the most important thing now is for you to recover…” SLAP! I struck him across the face with all my might. The extreme grief had paradoxically calmed me, freezing my emotions into a shard of ice. “How did you two meet?” Marcus turned his head to the side, closing his eyes for a moment before answering. “She was my student. Laura is a good girl. She knows we’re married, and she didn’t want me to hurt you by divorcing you. She was willing to be with me without any official status.” “When she found out you were pregnant, she kept telling me to go home and take care of you. She wouldn’t even let me accompany her to her own check-ups. I gave her the family access pass to make it up to her, but she never even used it.” “Laura has already been through enough. Take your anger out on me. She has nothing to do with this.” “Hahahaha.” I started laughing, a wild, broken sound that brought fresh tears to my eyes. So he had already considered divorcing me. The only reason my marriage was still intact was thanks to Laura’s “pity.” The way Marcus defended her, so openly and without shame, was another sharp, twisting knife in my already bleeding heart. I lunged at him like a wild animal, scratching and clawing. “Marcus, you bastard! I hope you rot in hell! You’re going to pay for what you did to my Kicker!” Marcus stepped forward, clamping a hand over my mouth. Then, he actually injected me with a sedative. “Vivienne, I will make this up to you. But the hospital can’t know about this. I’m up for promotion, remember?” “The hospital is short on beds. I’ve already requested one VIP room, I can’t break the rules and ask for another. Please, for my sake, just put up with a temporary bed in the hallway.” 4 “Don’t worry,” he added, his voice a low murmur. “I’ll come check on you constantly.” My body went limp on the gurney. I watched, helpless, as Marcus pushed me to a solitary, temporary bed at the end of the corridor. Passersby stared, pointing and whispering. “That’s the crazy woman from before. Screaming like she owns the place.” “Dr. Reid has the patience of a saint. He isn’t even angry, he’s taking care of her himself.” Despair washed over me, a tidal wave that drowned out everything else. The tears wouldn’t stop. Just as Marcus finished settling me in, the hospital director came rushing over. “Professor Reid, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! The officials from the national health board heard you missed the lecture to save a patient. They were incredibly impressed! They’ve agreed to wait for you to finish your surgery before you present.” “It’s going to be live-streamed nationwide. Never mind these patients, you need to come with me right now.” The man who had just promised to care for me dropped my hand without a second thought and hurried away. I dug my nails into my palm, using the sharp pain to claw back a sliver of strength. Leaning against the wall, I staggered after them. The lecture was clearly a major event. Several top figures in the medical community, faces I recognized from television, sat in the front row, looking at Marcus with approval. Marcus gave a solemn bow and spoke into the microphone, his image projected onto the live-stream feed. “My sincerest apologies. An emergency surgery delayed my presentation. But I have no regrets. A doctor’s duty is, first and foremost, to his patients.” A wave of applause and murmurs of praise filled the hall. “A true physician’s heart,” someone whispered. Marcus pushed his glasses up, hiding the smug smile that touched his lips, before clicking open his presentation. “The topic of my lecture today is the promotion of the extraperitoneal cesarean section.” But the image that appeared on the giant screen was not a medical diagram. It was a photo of him and Laura, naked in bed together. The color drained from Marcus’s face. I stood in the back, in the shadows, holding up my phone, which was playing a recording. My voice, amplified, rang through the hall. “Excuse me, Dr. Reid, but is your ‘physician’s heart’ reserved only for your mistress, Laura?”

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At seventeen, Blaine and I discovered we were living inside a sappy romance novel. He was the hero; I was just an extra. Blaine, furious, tore the book to shreds. “I don’t care about being that hero, and I certainly won’t fall for anyone else!” he declared to me. At twenty-two, just as the book had foretold, I was set to leave the country. Blaine ran his fingers through my hair, a promise in his voice. “When you come back, we’ll get married.” At twenty-seven, I returned. To attend Blaine’s wedding to the heroine. 1. An hour before the banquet was set to begin, I stood in the hotel lobby, lost in thought before the welcome sign. “Groom: Blaine Miller; Bride: Summer Ashton.” It felt like seventeen again. I’d pulled an unmarked book from a library shelf, only to see the cover proclaim: “Hero: Blaine Miller; Heroine: Summer Ashton.” It was like a Pandora’s Box, terrifying to open, impossible to ignore. “What’re you looking at?” Seventeen-year-old Blaine had appeared out of nowhere. He leaned over me, resting his head loosely on my shoulder. “What idiot used my name to write a novel?” He snatched the book, grumbling as he read. “What a dumb name, Summer Ashton. The person I like is clearly named Autumn Hayes!” “Autumn, where’s my Autumn…” His voice grew softer, more hesitant, as he flipped through the pages, until his face turned stark white. The book chronicled a romantic love story between Blaine, at twenty-two, and the heroine. Everything in it, except for the future, perfectly mirrored our reality. And his Autumn? Just a footnote in the background, a memory. “I don’t care about being that hero, and I certainly won’t fall for anyone else!” Blaine’s eyes burned red with anger as his hands trembled, tearing the book apart. “Autumn, don’t you believe it. That person… that’s definitely not me…” I said nothing. Seventeen-old Blaine held me close, choking back sobs and muttering defiantly, “I hate summer.” “Autumn, from now on, I’ll hate summer more than anything.” The boy’s choked cries faded under the growing din. I snapped back to reality, feeling the sunlight creeping onto my shoulder. Following the golden ray, I looked out the window, a sudden realization hitting me. It was summer. 2. “A wedding in the middle of summer? It’s sweltering.” A woman wiped her brow as she entered the hotel, complaining to her companion. “Did you check the calendar? Today isn’t a particularly auspicious day. What were the Millers thinking?” “Blaine’s just eager to get married, I guess. I heard he proposed to her five times before she finally said yes!” her companion said, proudly sharing the gossip. “The Millers have been planning this wedding for years, so once she agreed, they pulled it all together in seven days.” “Wow, Blaine must really love that Summer Ashton girl…” The woman’s exclamations drifted away with their footsteps. I couldn’t help but wonder. How much did the Blaine in the book love Summer? So much that, after knowing her for only six months, he began quietly planning every detail of their wedding. So much that, despite their mutual affection, he spent five years cautiously making his way into her world, held back by his own fear. This was a man known for his impatience, his bold and unrestrained nature. Yet, he loved her so much that he had completely forgotten… At seventeen, he’d picked up a torn piece of the shredded book. On a blank space, he childishly scrawled: “I, Blaine Miller, hereby warn every author who spins tales: First, Blaine Miller is not to be a hero; second, the only name Blaine Miller loves is Autumn Hayes; third…” “Unwavering by any will, Blaine Miller will forever, always, only love Autumn Hayes!” “Mom, what does this say?” A little girl stood before the welcome wall, pointing at a line of text. I followed her gaze, finally noticing the words: “With this grand ceremony, we invite you to witness our decision to walk hand-in-hand through life. — Blaine Miller & Summer Ashton” 3. Fifteen minutes had passed. I was still foolishly standing at the entrance, lacking the courage to take a single step. “Autumn.” A familiar voice suddenly called from behind me. I had just turned around when I was urgently pulled by the arm. “It really is you… Autumn, you’re finally back.” I was enveloped in a slender, fragrant embrace, a silent sob catching in my ear. A bitter taste filled my throat, and I managed to choke out, “…Aunt Carol.” Blaine’s mother let out a distressed sob, then quickly covered her mouth. “Yes, yes, I’m so sorry, Autumn…” After high school graduation, it was Blaine’s eighteenth birthday. He’d invited me to the Miller estate under the guise of celebrating. The moment we stepped through the door, we ran into his mother. “Mom, let me introduce you. This is your future daughter-in-law, Autumn Hayes.” Blaine’s arm was around my shoulder, his tone confident and proud. “Autumn, this is Mom, your future mother-in-law… Mmph!” I stood on my tiptoes to cover Blaine’s mouth just as Aunt Carol delivered a sharp flick to his forehead. Amidst Blaine’s yelp of pain, we both paused, then exchanged smiles. That was my first meeting with Aunt Carol. It set the tone for all our interactions thereafter — Blaine causing mischief, me trying to rein him in, and Aunt Carol cleaning up. In the end, we all laughed. On my twentieth birthday, Aunt Carol gave me the Miller family heirloom jade bracelet. She solemnly promised, “Autumn, if Blaine ever wrongs you, I’ll kick him out of the house and disown him!” Today, Aunt Carol was apologizing to me. I hugged her back, gently patting her on the back. All I could offer in return was a quiet, “Aunt Carol, it’s not your fault.” 4. Aunt Carol was the first to let go. “Autumn, this isn’t the place for catching up.” She quickly wiped her eyes, regaining her composure as a polite host. “It’s hot outside; come in and sit down.” I lowered my head, letting her take my hand, and unexpectedly found myself stepping into the banquet hall. After just two steps, Aunt Carol suddenly stopped, her voice tense. “Autumn, don’t misunderstand…” I looked up, puzzled, and instantly saw the wedding decorations. Golden wheat ears intertwined with sunflowers, set against various autumn-colored flowers, creating a romantic rustic scene. Scarecrows stood on either side, country-style bamboo baskets filled with fruits and vegetables, and a crescent moon hung above the stage… It was like a Van Gogh painting. Like stepping from summer directly into autumn. My breath hitched. “Autumn, don’t misunderstand, the wedding was arranged quickly, this setup was done by Blaine years ago, there wasn’t time to…” I gripped Aunt Carol’s hand tightly, interrupting her abruptly. “Aunt Carol, where is Blaine now?” “Autumn…” My gaze fixed on the tip of that moon on the stage, where a single, striking wheat ear blossomed. Perhaps a single grain of wheat had slipped from God’s palm, carried by the wind to this very spot? With a flicker of undeserved hope, I stubbornly asked again, “Aunt Carol, where is Blaine now?” Aunt Carol fell silent. After a long moment, she sighed. “He’s taking wedding photos with Summer… They’re in Room 1019.” I turned, and without a moment’s hesitation, ran out. In the blur of rapidly passing, noisy scenes, a strange illusion struck me. Seventeen-year-old Blaine was waiting for me. 5. But in truth, my entire story with Blaine began when I was sixteen. The first day of junior year, after class assignments were posted, I walked into the classroom early, instinctively heading for the front row. A wisp of osmanthus scent suddenly drifted into my nose, like an invisible pull. I deviated from my usual spot, choosing a window seat in the back, closer to the osmanthus tree. The classroom slowly filled with noise, but I buried my head in a book until a commotion beside me. Blaine dramatically slammed his backpack onto the desk. He wore a crisp white shirt, looking down at me, a casual eyebrow raised as he asked, “Hey, classmate, what’s your name?” His expression and tone were nonchalant, yet I sensed a hint of displeasure. Confused, I glanced at him. “Autumn Hayes.” Blaine scoffed. “I asked for your name, not your age.” “…” I lowered my head, ignoring him. My first impression of him was: this guy isn’t very bright. During introductions, I stood on stage and said, “My name is Autumn Hayes.” He leaned back in his chair, lounging in the audience, and asked, almost looking for a fight, “Which ‘Hayes’?” I looked at him again, expressionless. “Like a field of hay.” He feigned understanding, drawing out a long, “Ohhh~” I walked back to my seat, bewildered, only to see him suddenly extend his hand toward me. “Nice to meet you.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Hey, Miss Hay.” I tripped over the chair leg. And realized with a profound sense of despair: I was now desk-mates with a not-so-bright classmate. 6. Later, I learned that Blaine was the notorious troublemaker of our high school. The back-row window seat was unofficially his territory, and I had “stolen” it. When he asked for my name, his unspoken question was, “Hey, how dare you sit in my spot?” I thought it was incredibly childish. Perhaps because my parents worked abroad and I’d lived alone since freshman year, I was more mature than my peers, and quite reserved, with no friends. I wasn’t good at dealing with people like Blaine. He’d casually say to me, “Hey, Miss Hay, can I copy your homework?” He’d also, after playing basketball, walk through the crowded hallways directly to me. He’d smile and point to the untouched bottle of water in my hand, “Miss Hay, can I borrow a bottle of water? You don’t mind, right?” His demeanor and tone were laid-back, yet not presumptuous or rude. In fact, it was as if he considered himself exceptionally close to you. In my mind, I quietly categorized this trait as: bad boy charm. Until one day, I saw him reject a bottle of water offered by another girl on the sports field. His reason: “Sorry, but I never accept things from girls. Don’t want to cause any misunderstandings.” The girl was indignant. “But you took water from your desk-mate!” “That’s because I borrowed it from her,” Blaine said, tilting his head and smiling. “Besides, there’s no misunderstanding between us.” What did he mean? I froze a short distance away, experiencing a mental short circuit for the first time in my life. But the moment Blaine glanced sideways and saw me, his smile spread to the corners of his eyes. He walked toward me, step by deliberate step. “Miss Hay, are you wondering right now: Blaine seems to treat me a little specially?” He leaned slightly, hands on his knees, and peered up into my eyes. “No need to wonder.” His face glowed in the backlight as he declared, “Miss Hay, you are special.”

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After being recognized as the true heiress by the eighth pair of wealthy parents, my mindset collapsed, and I was going crazy. At the recognition banquet, the fake heiress framed me for throwing her bracelet into the pool. Facing my parents’ questioning, I suddenly felt like dying. So the next second, I twisted my head and dove straight into the pool, sinking to the bottom in the blink of an eye. My parents were terrified out of their minds. They frantically fished me out, their faces ashen. Looking at the fake heiress crying from anger, my brother warned me with a gloomy face: “If you dare to grandstand again, get out of this house!” Hearing this, I got up and rushed straight towards the traffic: “Sure thing, bro, I’ll go out and get hit by a car right now!” My brother was completely dumbfounded. He dragged me back from the highway in a panic, looking at me like I was a monster. That night, the fake heiress stood on the roof, acting as if she was about to jump off the building: “I shouldn’t have usurped my sister’s identity, I’ll return it to her right now!” As soon as she finished speaking, I looked at her hesitant posture, impatiently stepped forward, and pushed her aside. “So dawdling, let me do it.” Saying that, amid everyone’s shocked screams, I cleanly jumped off the roof. … 1 The wind howled in my ears, and I completely lost consciousness. When I slowly woke up again, I heard Mia Sterling’s whining voice in my ears: “I really didn’t say anything. Sister jumped down herself, I don’t know what happened to her either.” Seeing this, my brother Ethan Sterling immediately stepped forward, shielding her firmly behind him in a protective posture: “Mom, Dad, this must be a trick directed and acted by Chloe Sterling. I think she just wants to use this to frame Mia!” “If she really didn’t want to live, why did she specifically pick a place with a landing platform to jump?” “Isn’t it because she calculated that she wouldn’t die from the fall? She simply has bad intentions!” Ethan saw our parents’ eyes waver. Turning his head, he met my newly opened eyes. His eyes lit up, as if he suddenly thought of something. Without explanation, he dragged me off the hospital bed, pulling and hauling me to the window. “Mom, Dad, look, this is the thirtieth floor, there’s no buffer underneath.” “If she really has the determination to die, why isn’t she jumping now?” “I think she’s just putting on an act! Just wanting to frame Mia!” I had just woken up, my head was still groggy, and my whole body ached. I was just regretting why I didn’t die again. Pressed by him like this, the height of the thirtieth floor crashed into my eyes without any obstruction. I was instantly delighted. Ethan was still talking non-stop, while half of my body had already couldn’t resist the temptation and climbed out the window. Halfway through their conversation, they turned their heads and saw this scene. The air froze for a moment. The next second, the room completely exploded with screams, dragging, and chaos. I struggled, I thrashed, I twisted my body desperately trying to edge outward. The few of them pinned me down with their hands and feet, coaxing and persuading, exerting immense effort before finally dragging me back to the bed. Ethan still wanted to say something, but just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by a loud smack from Dad! “Enough! Shut your mouth right now!” He fiercely slammed the window shut and locked it, pointing a trembling finger at me, then turning to Ethan: “Have you ever seen any child attract attention like this?” “Chloe is your biological sister! Look what you’ve forced her to become!” Saying that, Mom and Dad sighed, slowly walking to my bedside: “Chloe…” Before my parents could get the words out, they were interrupted by Mia clutching her chest and crying: “It’s all because of me that sister has such thoughts. Maybe… I should just leave…” Hearing this, my parents’ movements instantly paused, and their expressions immediately became serious: “Mia, don’t think nonsense! You will always be a daughter of our Sterling family, no one can replace you!” Ethan even directly blocked in front of her, swearing: “In this life, I, Ethan Sterling, only recognize you as my one and only sister! No matter who leaves, it won’t be you!” If this were the first time I heard these words, I might still be sad. Unfortunately, I had heard the exact same words seven times already. I could recite them backward; all that was left was disgust. A strong feeling of nausea hit me. Their faces faded in and out of my vision, and in my trance, I remembered the past again. I was a magnet for bad luck. During my most miserable year, I lost my memory, had no money, and almost starved to death on the streets. So when the System told me I was the “Chosen One” female lead of true and fake heiress stories, and that completing tasks would earn me generous bonuses. Just to have a full meal, I agreed without a second thought. However, the System got the target wrong, causing me to experience the physical and mental abuse plot of the true wealthy heiress seven times in a row. I was diagnosed with a work-related injury and developed severe PTSD towards the identity of “true heiress.” Just as I was holding a hundred-million-dollar compensation fund preparing to retire, the eighth pair of wealthy parents came looking for me. “Host, are you really going to abandon the mission? I swear the target wasn’t wrong this time, it’s your biological family…” “If you still want to give up, the rules haven’t changed. Just die in this world.” I was bargaining with the System in my head. The next second, Ethan’s voice snapped me back to reality. “Chloe Sterling! Look at the good deed you’ve done!” I looked up, meeting his gloomy face. 2 He said because I just jumped off the building, Mia was so worried her old illness relapsed, and the doctor said she needed a total blood transfusion. “If it’s a minor illness, go get treated. If it’s a major illness, go die. Why come looking for me?” “Oh, if she really doesn’t know how to die, I could teach her.” Hearing this, seeing our parents weren’t around, Ethan was so angry he slapped me directly: “It’s all because of you that Mia’s old illness relapsed! So you must give her this blood transfusion! You have no right to refuse!” Mia cried tearfully beside him: “Forget it, brother. Sister hates me so much, she definitely won’t agree to give me a blood transfusion. Just let me fend for myself!” When she cried, Ethan became even more irritable. He grabbed my collar: “Chloe Sterling, if you still want to return to this family, then you have to give this blood today whether you want to or not!” I was shaken by him until my vision went dark repeatedly. Just as I was about to cough, I was fiercely thrown back onto the bed by him. “Chloe Sterling, don’t force me to use methods. If you know what’s good for you, sign the informed consent…” Before he could finish speaking, I impatiently got up and quickly signed my name. I casually tossed the pen, not even looking up: “Draw it.” Ethan didn’t react: “What?” “I said, don’t you want to draw my blood to give to Mia? Draw it, better to drain it all directly. I don’t want to live anyway.” Hearing me say this, Mia immediately looked at Ethan with tearful eyes. Ethan’s face instantly darkened another degree. “Chloe Sterling, it’s just asking you to give Mia a little blood. Is it necessary to deliberately put on this look to disgust us?” “Name a condition. What will it take for you to properly give Mia a blood transfusion…” I was getting a throbbing headache from his schizophrenic behavior. This wasn’t okay, that wasn’t okay! At this moment, I couldn’t bear it anymore! I stood up with a whoosh and roared at him: “Change, change, change! I’ll change it for her!” “Not only will I give her my blood, I’ll give her my life too! Can you shut up!” Before he could react, I directly grabbed the fruit knife nearby and stabbed it towards the artery in my wrist. The expected severe pain didn’t arrive; the blade was grabbed by Ethan with extremely fast reaction. Seeing the blood spilling from his fingers, Mia beside him screamed in fright and stumbled out of the ward to call for a doctor. And Ethan pinned me back on the bed with my arms behind my back, his face livid, his voice trembling: “Chloe Sterling! Are you crazy?! Is this the only trick you know to get attention?” “Before you lost your memory, you only knew how to seek death all day long. I didn’t expect that after so many years, even with amnesia, you still haven’t made any progress!” I froze for a moment, then struggled crazily: “Let go! Whether I’ve made progress or not is none of your damn business!” “I’m your brother!” The veins on his forehead popped out. I kicked and thrashed on the bed, finally just lowering my head to bite his hand. But until my mouth was full of the taste of blood, he still didn’t let go. Finally, I was really out of options. I relaxed my strength and smiled gently at him: “Okay, brother, I admit, I just want to grandstand and attract your attention so I can steal your love away from Mia.” “You are too wise, you saw through it at a glance.” “Now the act is over, I’m not dying. Can you let go?” Ethan stared into my eyes, seeing my sincere look didn’t seem like lying. After a long while, he finally slowly let go, let out a long breath, and said: “Chloe Sterling, I don’t like forcing others, but Mia can be considered your sister. It’s perfectly justified for you to give her a blood transfusion. Today you were too unreasonable.” “I promise, as long as you obediently sign and go give Mia a blood transfusion, our Sterling family can still accept you again…” Before his voice fell, I grabbed the knife and stabbed it into my neck. The world was quiet for a second. When Mom and Dad pushed the door open holding boxed lunches, my splattering fresh blood splashed all over their faces. With a clatter, the lunch boxes fell to the ground. A miserable, shrill scream erupted in the room: “Doctor! Go get the doctor quickly!” 3 I had a dream. The me in the dream was young, fierce, and couldn’t bear the slightest injustice. Every time I was framed by Mia, I defended myself hoarsely. Quarreling, jumping off buildings, slitting wrists, running away from home. I used all extreme methods to prove myself. Over time, under the gradually disappointed gazes of my family, I became a “madwoman.” The last time, Ethan spoke harshly to me: “If you act up again, get out of the Sterling family forever!” I froze for a long time, then recklessly rushed into the midnight snowstorm. The last memory was the blinding halo of headlights and the dull thud of my body hitting the ground. When I woke up again, with an empty brain, I agreed to bind with the System. I wandered for a long time. When the first pair of wealthy parents recognized me and brought me home, I was full of joy, thinking I had finally found a home. But I didn’t expect that closely following were the second pair, the third pair… By the fifth pair, looking at the wealthy parents who were like Russian nesting dolls, I completely stopped laughing. When the seventh pair of wealthy parents brought me home, I was already on the verge of breaking down. At this time, not only could I recite the physical and mental abuse script of the true wealthy heiress backward. I even had a bit of a stress reaction just hearing the word “wealthy.” This was the eighth time. The current me couldn’t muster half a bit of interest in the love of these wealthy family members. I just wanted to quickly take the hundred-million-dollar compensation fund, fake my death, and escape far, far away from all these people. I was awakened by Ethan’s voice: “Mom, Dad! Yes, Mia exaggerated her old illness relapse this time, but wasn’t that also because she was scared?” “Think about it, how did Chloe treat her in the past!” His voice paused, then lowered a few degrees: “Back then, weren’t you also afraid Mia would suffer grievances, so you deliberately bought off those seven families with similar situations, letting them take Chloe back first and pretend to be her parents, so Mia could have more time to adapt?” “Besides, how could Chloe completely change her nature just by losing her memory? Anyway, I don’t believe it.” “If you ask me, she just mingled outside for seven years, got smart, and her acting skills went up a level…” “Enough!” Dad severely shouted him down. Followed by a long silence. I sat on the bed, picking at the bandages on my neck, my ears buzzing. That sentence echoed repeatedly in my mind: bought off seven families. The System’s voice jumped up in my mind at the same time: “I told you something was wrong! How could I find the wrong target time after time! Making you do a task that should have taken one try seven times!” “I thought the main system was too garbage, after all that, it turns out they were the ones playing tricks!” “But fortunately you had the foresight. Holding the hundred-million-dollar compensation fund, you’ve already prepared a new identity in another world. You can leave this world at any time.” Before it finished speaking, I had already rolled out of bed. “Wait, Host, why is your face so ugly? What are you looking for…” I was concise: “Looking for a knife.” 4 Didn’t find a knife. I was half-coaxed and half-dragged back to the Sterling mansion by my parents, who rushed in after hearing the commotion. After getting home, I turned the villa upside down as soon as I entered the house, but in the huge villa, I couldn’t find a single controlled blade. I wanted to jump off the building again, but didn’t expect all the windows inside and out had been sealed shut. Even a thick layer of carpet was laid on the stairs. Psychologists came one after another. Mom and Dad started guarding by my side day and night, never leaving my side. Mom had to change my dressing every day with red eyes. Dad, to make me happy, even brought out the family portrait the painter painted for us back then. “Tch.” Ethan happened to pass by the door, saw this scene, and mocked: “Really good at acting.” “Don’t you just want to use the pity play to squeeze Mia out of this house?” “Let me tell you, Chloe Sterling, as long as I’m still here, don’t even think about it.” After saying that, he turned and left. My gaze fell on the face of the brother in the painting who smilingly carried me on his shoulders, and I was in a trance for a moment. In the following days, I never found an opportunity to commit suicide again. Perhaps that last sliver of hope I had for them completely shattered after hearing they had continuously pushed me outward seven times. I wanted to die faster even more. Finally, it was Mia’s birthday party. That day, as soon as I entered the door, I was affectionately pulled by her. “Sister, you came to my birthday party, how can you not have a decent dress?” I let her half-drag and half-pull me, following her away from the crowd. When we reached the edge of the pool, she suddenly stopped, leaned in close to my ear, and said viciously: “Don’t think you can steal everything I have now.” “Anyway, you always liked to seek death, right?” “There are no security cameras here. Even if you really drown here… no one will suspect me.” She paused, enunciating each word: “So, go die.” Before her voice fell, a violent force fiercely struck from behind me. With a splash, the freezing pool water instantly swallowed me. I didn’t struggle, but let the pool water submerge me. The feeling of suffocation surged, and my consciousness gradually blurred. The System’s countdown rang in my ears. “Five, four, three…” Suddenly, I was dragged up by a force. Ethan’s voice exploded in my ears: “Mia said you stole her jewelry! Making her unable to step down in front of everyone!” “Speak! Where did you hide the things?” Seeing me curled up on the ground trembling continuously, his strength subconsciously loosened for a moment. After a long while, as if remembering something again, his eyes became sinister once more. “Chloe Sterling, did you hear me? Hand over the things!” “Just to deny taking a set of jewelry, you acted out this diving scene again, isn’t it boring?” Seeing I didn’t respond, he completely lost patience: “Are you f***ing addicted to acting?! Endless, right?!” While roaring, he roughly grabbed my wrist, whose pulse had already stopped, wanting to drag me up from the ground. The next moment, his movements suddenly froze, and his face turned deathly pale with a whoosh. Right at this time, Mom and Dad, who had received the video recording from my micro-camera, happened to push the door and burst in. Ethan mechanically turned his head to look at Mom and Dad, and then slowly looked at me lying lifelessly on the ground. He staggered backward two steps, widened his eyes in disbelief, and slumped onto the ground.

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He told me company policy didn’t allow plus-ones. He said this for eight years. Eight years, sixteen corporate retreats, and I had never been to a single one. Today, while organizing some old photo albums, I came across a group picture from his company’s retreat last year. In the front row stood several couples, smiling brightly. I recognized his colleague Dave, standing next to his wife. There was also Kevin Smith from the Sales department, standing next to his wife as well. My husband was standing in the second row. Next to him stood a woman in a white dress. I had lost an identical dress three years ago. 1. I stared at that photo for a long time. A white dress, floral print, cinched waist, hem falling just to the knee. Three years ago, I bought it at the mall for $150. I only wore it once to my mom’s birthday dinner. Later, it just disappeared. I asked Mark about it, and he said the cleaning lady probably lost it by mistake when she was tidying up. I believed him. Now, that dress was on another woman, standing right next to him. I zoomed in on the photo, trying to make out the woman’s face. But the resolution was too low; I could only see a blurry outline. Long hair, slim, not very tall. Her hand was resting on Mark’s arm. The gesture was incredibly natural, like she had done it a thousand times. I heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. The door opened, and Mark walked in. “You’re back?” I put my phone down. “Working late again?” “Yeah, wrapping up a project.” He took off his shoes. “Did you eat?” “I ate.” I watched him walk into the bathroom to wash his hands, his movements the same as always. “Your company retreat to Lake Tahoe is next month,” I said. His movements paused for a split second. “Oh?” “I saw Dave’s wife post about it on Facebook today. She said she’s looking forward to it.” Mark turned off the faucet and dried his hands. “That’s the Sales department’s retreat. Our Tech department might not go.” “Aren’t Sales and Tech going together?” “Depends.” He walked out of the bathroom. “Management hasn’t finalized it yet.” I nodded and didn’t ask further. He went into the study to turn on his computer, saying he had some work to catch up on. I sat on the sofa and looked at that photo one more time. It was taken at the entrance of a resort, with a massive, manicured lawn in the background. I recognized the place. Two years ago, when they came back from their retreat, I asked him where they went. He said it was just a rustic cabin in the woods, nothing fun. But the resort in the photo was clearly not a rustic cabin. I opened Yelp and searched the location. Average cost: $250 a night. A four-star resort. So this was the “rustic cabin” he told me about. My phone rang. It was my mom. “Have you had dinner?” “I did.” “Where’s Mark?” “Working late in the study.” “Tell him not to work too hard. He needs to take care of his health.” “I know.” After hanging up, I walked over to the study door. It was slightly ajar. Mark was on the phone. “…don’t worry about next month. I’ll handle it.” His voice was hushed, as if he was afraid of being overheard. “Alright, let’s leave it at that for now.” He hung up. I knocked on the door. “Come in.” I pushed the door open. “Who was on the phone?” “A client.” His eyes never left the screen. “About the project.” “Talking to clients this late?” “Yeah, out-of-state client. Time zones.” I didn’t press him. Walking back to the living room, I saved that group photo to my phone’s camera roll. That night in bed, he wrapped his arm around me just like he always did. “Are you tired lately?” he asked. “I’m fine.” “The retreat next month… I might be gone for three or four days.” “Okay.” “You’ll be okay at home by yourself, right?” “I’ll be fine.” He kissed my forehead. “Get some sleep.” I closed my eyes and listened to his breathing slowly even out. Eight years. Eight years, sixteen corporate retreats. Every single time, he told me company policy prohibited plus-ones. Every single time, I believed him. But in that photo, all the other guys had their wives with them. I was the only one missing. I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. His hand was still resting on my waist, warm. Just like always. But suddenly, that hand felt like a stranger’s. 2. The next day was Saturday. Mark said he had to go into the office for half a day to take care of some things. “Will you be back for lunch?” “I should be.” I watched him leave, then booted up my laptop. I found his company’s official website and clicked on the “Employee Events” tab. There were dozens of photos—retreats, annual galas, anniversary parties. I looked through them, one by one. 2016 Retreat, Miami. Mark was in the group photo. Standing next to him was a woman. Not me. 2017 Retreat, Aspen. Mark was in the photo, and standing next to him was the same woman. Still not me. 2018 Retreat, Hawaii. The same woman. 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024. Every single year, in every single photo, that woman was there. She wore different clothes, changed her hairstyles, but her facial features never changed. An oval face, monolids, and a small dimple when she smiled. I didn’t know her. I had never seen her in my life. But she had been standing next to my husband for eight solid years. My hands began to shake. I saved those photos to my desktop, one by one. After saving them, I opened Mark’s iMessage synced to his iPad. He didn’t have a passcode on his devices. He always said we didn’t need to hide things from each other. I searched and found a chat history with a “Chloe Bennett.” The latest message was from 11 PM last night. Mark: “Did you get home safe?” Chloe: “I did. Thanks for today.” Mark: “Get some rest.” Chloe: “[Kiss Emoji]” I scrolled up. The day before yesterday. Chloe: “Did you book the hotel for next month’s retreat?” Mark: “Yeah, The Ritz-Carlton at Lake Tahoe.” Chloe: “The same suite as last year?” Mark: “Yeah, lakeview room.” Chloe: “Can’t wait~” My stomach began to cramp. I kept scrolling up. A month ago. Mark: “Wear that blue dress for the client dinner.” Chloe: “Okay. Are you going to wear a tie?” Mark: “I’ll wear the one you gave me.” Chloe: “It’s a matching couple’s set, you know. Don’t let anyone catch on.” Mark: “So what if they do?” Three months ago. Chloe: “Did your wife ask where you went again?” Mark: “No, she never asks.” Chloe: “She’s so gullible.” Mark: “She’s not gullible, she trusts me.” Chloe: “Then you better treat her well.” Mark: “I know.” Six months ago. Chloe: “What should I wear for the annual gala this year?” Mark: “You look beautiful in anything.” Chloe: “Your wife isn’t coming this time, right?” Mark: “No, she never comes.” Chloe: “Then I can dress up a little more.” Mark: “Whatever you want.” A year ago. Chloe: “Can I post the photos from the Maldives on Instagram?” Mark: “Yeah, just block her from seeing your story.” The Maldives. A year ago. I remembered. A year ago at this exact time, I was three months postpartum. He told me the retreat dates conflicted with everything and he had to go. I stayed home alone taking care of our newborn, while he went to the Maldives. With her. I put the iPad down. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The front door opened. Mark was back. “What’s wrong?” He noticed my expression. “You look so pale.” I looked at him. I had looked at this face for eight years. It was the face I woke up to every morning, the face I saw before falling asleep every night. I thought I knew him so well. But now I realized I didn’t know him at all. “Nothing.” I stood up. “I’ll go make lunch.” “Let me do it. You rest.” He rolled up his sleeves and walked into the kitchen. I stood rooted to the spot, staring at his back. That back was so familiar too. But so what if it was familiar? She was probably incredibly familiar with his back, too. Maybe even more familiar than I was. 3. On Monday, I took a personal day off from work. I went to Mark’s company building. I wasn’t there to see him. I went to see Emily from the HR department. Emily was my high school friend. She had been an HR manager at Mark’s company for five years. “Well, this is rare! What brings you here?” Emily was surprised. “I was just in the area. Wanted to grab lunch with you.” We went to a nearby coffee shop. “Does Mark know you’re here?” “I didn’t tell him. I wanted to surprise him.” Emily smiled. “You two are so sweet.” I forced a smile in return. “By the way,” I said, pretending to be casual, “Can we bring plus-ones to the retreat next month? I was thinking of tagging along.” Emily froze for a second. “Bring plus-ones? Of course you can.” “But Mark said company policy doesn’t allow it.” Emily’s expression turned very strange. “There’s no such policy. Our company has always allowed plus-ones for the retreats. They even cover half the expenses for family members.” My heart stopped beating for a full second. “Always?” “Yeah, it’s been like that since I started working here. Didn’t you know?” “Mark told me…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Emily saw right through my facade. She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “Sarah, what’s wrong? Did something happen between you and Mark?” “No.” I shook my head. “Maybe I just remembered it wrong.” “Don’t lie to me.” Emily lowered her voice. “Tell me… is Mark…” I looked at her without speaking. She let out a heavy sigh. “Actually… I’ve always wanted to tell you, but I was afraid of ruining your marriage.” “Tell me what?” “Every time there’s a company retreat, Mark brings a woman with him.” My hands began to tremble. “We all thought she was his wife. We thought she was you. But then, one time, I saw the name tag they printed for her. It said ‘Chloe Bennett’.” Chloe Bennett. I knew it. “Who is she?” “One of Mark’s clients. I think she works in foreign trade. They’ve known each other for years.” “How many years?” Emily hesitated. “At least… eight years.” Eight years. The exact amount of time Mark and I had been married. “Are you saying they go to all the retreats together?” “Not just retreats.” Emily’s voice dropped even lower. “Annual galas, client appreciation dinners, the boss’s birthday parties… she goes to all of them. When Mark introduces her, he calls her ‘my wife’.” My wife. Those two words plunged into my heart like a dagger. Eight years. A full eight years. He had taken another woman to every single event, introducing her to everyone. And me, his actual, legal wife—I hadn’t been to a single one. “I always assumed that was you…” Emily’s eyes turned red. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I should have told you sooner.” “It’s not your fault.” I stood up. “Thank you for telling me.” Walking out of the coffee shop, I crouched down on the sidewalk and cried for a long time. Eight years. I waited for him for eight years. I trusted him for eight years. And the result? Eight years of “company policy” was just eight years of lies. For eight years, his colleagues, his bosses, his clients—not a single one of them had ever met me. They all thought Chloe Bennett was his wife. And I was the one kept hidden in the dark.

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