As college began, my roommate Lily Evans decided to rank us based on our blood types, with Type A being the highest, followed by O, and B at the bottom. Since I have Type B blood, I became the lowest-ranked person in her eyes. She treated me like a servant, writing a list of unreasonable rules for me on a piece of paper. She also called herself “Miss Evans” and showed off her designer clothes and bags in our dorm room. “If you all listen to me, I’ll have my dad arrange jobs for you after graduation,” she boasted. Hearing her words nearly made me cough up blood. If she’s Miss Evans, then who was the person I visited at the psychiatric hospital yesterday? “Let me tell you, people with Type B blood are the most fickle, selfish, and emotionally unstable. They’re like crazy people and can’t hang out with us Type A and O folks,” Lily declared. “We Type A people have the best personalities. We’re meticulous, enthusiastic, and generous. From now on, I’ll be the boss of this dorm and take care of you all.” After asking about our blood types, Lily couldn’t stop talking. There were four of us in the dorm: Lily was Type A, two others were Type O, and I was the only Type B. We were college students, not idiots. Everyone exchanged awkward smiles and ignored her, continuing to unpack. If blood types really determined personality, there would only be a few identical types of people in the world. But this irritated her. She took out her designer clothes and bags, spreading them across her bed as if afraid someone might miss them. One roommate from a rural area, seeing such beautiful clothes for the first time, exclaimed, “Wow, your family must be rich! These clothes are gorgeous. They must cost thousands!” Lily was delighted by the flattery: “Thousands? These cost $40,000! Here, take this lipstick. It’s a designer brand, number 422.” Another roommate put down her clothes and looked at them with shining eyes. Lily noticed her interest and gave her a lipstick too: “Stick with me, and there’ll be plenty of perks.” It was ridiculous. Truly wealthy people don’t remember the prices of things they buy, nor do they show off so blatantly. Seeing that I had no reaction, Lily approached me with a lipstick, smirking: “Don’t pretend. I know you want one too. From now on, you’ll be our dorm’s little follower. This is your welcome gift.” As the only daughter of the Liu Group, why would I need to be anyone’s follower? She was so arrogant over just giving me a lipstick. You’d think she’d bought me a house or something. But since I had to live in this dorm for a year before I could move off-campus, I politely declined: “No need, I have more lipsticks than I can use.” She had expected me to be grateful, so her face fell. She opened my drawer and burst out laughing: “I thought you used some fancy brand. You have the nerve to look down on mine? These are just cheap knockoffs from Wish.” “Knockoffs? These are all custom-made products my mom brought back from abroad.” Now she was laughing so hard tears were about to fall. “You should think before you lie. I’m Miss Evans. How come I’ve never seen this brand?” “You don’t mean the Evans family that donated a building to our school, do you?” Lily nodded proudly, basking in their admiration like a celebrity. “If you all listen to me, I’ll have my dad arrange jobs for you after graduation.” Hearing her words nearly made me cough up blood. If she’s Miss Evans, then who was the person I visited at the psychiatric hospital yesterday?
Besides, I had already investigated my roommates’ backgrounds before school started. Her parents were just ordinary working-class people. As for why she had so many luxury items and whether they were genuine, I couldn’t be bothered to think about it. I just wanted to enjoy my college life now, because after graduation, I’d have to take over the company and would never have such a relaxed time again. After finishing unpacking, my parents called me out for dinner. They were worried I wouldn’t adapt to dorm life and wanted to donate some equipment to the school so I could commute. I refused, not wanting to be so high-profile or make others think I was using connections. When I returned, I found I couldn’t open the door to our room. I knocked for a while before Lily finally opened it. She immediately threw a piece of paper at me: “From now on, if you forget your key, you’ll have to send a red envelope to each of us to get in.” I looked at the contents and nearly dropped my jaw. The first rule: Responsible for cleaning the dorm every day. Second rule: Wake up half an hour early to buy breakfast for them and save seats in the classroom. Third rule: Hand wash her underwear and socks daily. … I didn’t read the rest and threw it back in her face. She was treating me like a free maid. If she wouldn’t let me in, I’d break down the door. It would only cost a little to replace. I didn’t want to cause trouble at the start of school, but that didn’t mean I was easy to bully. She became furious and tried to slap me, but I firmly gripped her wrist. She glared at me, gritting her teeth: “I’ll tell my dad you’re bullying me. Just you wait.” I wasn’t raised to be scared easily. People like her shouldn’t be indulged. Even if Mr. Evans really came, he wouldn’t dare touch a hair on my head. I gripped her hand tighter, making her cry out in pain. “Apologize.” Her eyes widened, and I applied more pressure. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and begged: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I hadn’t been working out every day for years for nothing. The muscles in my arms weren’t just for show. She stared at me, unable to do anything. The next day, she got up early to put on makeup, the clanking of her cosmetics waking me up. She wore clothes covered in designer logos, exuding a nouveau riche vibe. I casually put on some casual wear, which prompted her sarcastic comments: “If you can’t afford genuine items, don’t pretend. Wearing fakes will only make people laugh at you.” I couldn’t help but laugh: “Who knows if yours are real? Dressed like that, people might think you’re some nouveau riche’s illegitimate child.” Angered, she took out several receipts from her suitcase to show me: “You country bumpkin, who are you calling fake?” I glanced at the receipts, which did seem genuine. When she asked me to show my receipts, I was stumped. Who carries around clothing receipts? In our first class, the advisor asked us to introduce ourselves. Lily was the first to raise her hand and went to the front: “Hi everyone, I’m Lily Evans, blood type A. I welcome all Type A and O people to be my friends. I’ll treat everyone to dinner tonight.” She certainly knew how to win people over. A crowd quickly gathered around her, flattering her. When it was my turn to go up, she started causing trouble. “Oh, you don’t know, yesterday I saw her using some sketchy lipstick and felt sorry for her, so I gave her a $422 lipstick. I must have hurt her pride because look how she grabbed my wrist.” Everyone saw her reddened wrist and looked at me with contempt. When I came down, only a few people applauded. Ridiculous. Just the usual tactics of a mean girl, twisting black and white. Besides, I had already asked my dad’s secretary to investigate her yesterday. I wanted to see where all her money came from.
During Freshman Orientation Week, because I was tall, I stood with the boys. Jack Zhang, a rich kid in our class, deliberately stood next to me, constantly trying to make conversation. I didn’t really want to engage with him. Our families had just ended a business partnership because his family’s product quality wasn’t up to par, and my family was looking for new partners. He was approaching me for his family’s company, but this displeased Lily. Lily loved having everyone, especially boys, gathered around her. Jack had taken her out in his sports car yesterday, but today he was being attentive to me, causing her to keep turning her head to glare at us during training. I originally wasn’t planning to pay attention to Jack, but seeing her so angry piqued my interest, so I started chatting with him. As soon as the instructor dismissed us, she ran over to bring Jack water, even affectionately patting his head. She was clearly marking her territory in front of me. “Jack, let’s go out for hot pot later. I’m so hungry,” she said coyly. Jack had always been a player, never dating a girl for more than a month, and often juggling multiple relationships. I’d even heard gossip about him last year when an influencer secretly gave birth to his daughter, but he refused to acknowledge her. In the end, his father had to step in and accept the child. Given his family’s current situation, if he had any sense, he’d choose me: “Jack, I’m hungry too. How about taking me for steak?” He was suddenly caught in a dilemma, torn between the girl he’d just hooked and someone who could benefit him. Faced with money and beauty, he ultimately chose money: “Lily, you go back first. I’ll take you for hot pot tomorrow.” Lily looked utterly disbelieving, tears streaming down her face like a faucet, appearing extremely pitiful. But Jack was unmoved, even calling the steakhouse to make a reservation right in front of her. This also angered Lily, who started yelling at me: “You vixen! Have you no shame? How dare you flirt with the man I like? Do you enjoy being a homewrecker that much?” She was really jumping to conclusions, especially since they weren’t even dating. I didn’t say anything, just looked up at Jack. He immediately understood and looked at Lily impatiently: “Who are you calling names? Look at yourself, acting all coquettish. We’ve only known each other for a few days, and you’re already calling me ‘honey’ all the time.” Lily hadn’t expected him to change so quickly and was too angry to speak: “You! You! You…” I couldn’t help but laugh, and he immediately pressed his advantage: “What ‘you’? I just took you out a few times and bought you some things. Did you really think you were my girlfriend?” Lily, who cared so much about face, was humiliated like this and cried uncontrollably. “I’ll give you… one more chance. Are you taking me… for hot pot… or her for steak?” she said between sobs. Her psychological resilience was quite strong. Any other girl would have run away in tears by now. “You’re crazy. Let’s go, Amy,” Jack said. Jack and I left, leaving her behind. “You two-timing jerks, I’ll never forgive you!” she shouted angrily at our backs. I treated it like a dog barking, not bothering to respond. At the school gate, I made an excuse that my parents had an urgent matter and left. If it wasn’t to anger Lily, I wouldn’t want to get too close to someone like Jack. At that moment, the secretary also called me to report on her investigation progress.
I never expected Lily to be the mistress of my best friend’s father, Robert Lee. The secretary even had people take photos of them kissing in a car. This really made me feel sick. Robert was already 50, with a mouthful of yellow teeth. How could she stomach kissing him? But this also gave me hope. My best friend, Olivia Lee, might have a chance to get out of the psychiatric hospital. She wasn’t really ill at all. She was locked up because she didn’t listen to Robert. After her college entrance exam, she got engaged to the Lu family and ran off abroad, only to be caught and brought back by Robert. When she tried to escape again, Robert’s men caught her, and a bystander filmed it and posted it online, causing a stir about the Lee family abusing their daughter. Under public pressure, Robert forged a psychiatric diagnosis for her and had her committed to a mental hospital. Olivia’s mother, Victoria, couldn’t help her because her family’s company was in decline and still relied on Robert’s financial support. I could only approach Victoria. I remembered her mentioning before that she and Robert had signed a prenuptial agreement stating that if either party cheated, they would leave the marriage with nothing. I invited Victoria out for coffee and told her everything in detail. Victoria’s eyes lit up. She thanked me and left in a hurry, not even touching her coffee. Now all I had to do was wait for the good news of Olivia’s release. Victoria acted swiftly, and Olivia was out the next day. Olivia already hated Robert, and upon learning of his affair, she urged her mother to divorce him immediately. But Victoria said there was no rush; she had her own plans. She had already taken over the Lee family company. Olivia wanted to come to school with me, so Victoria donated $2 million worth of lab equipment to the school, and Olivia was admitted as an exception to study with me. To thank Victoria, the school invited her to give a speech. Everyone thought it was Lily’s mother coming and cast envious glances at her. Our dorm was originally a six-person room that wasn’t full, so Olivia naturally moved in. Just as we finished moving her things in, Lily rudely rushed over to ask about her blood type. Olivia had heard about Lily from me and didn’t bother to engage with someone impersonating her identity. This infuriated Lily: “Do you know who my parents are? How dare you ignore me! Just looking at you, I can tell you’re Type B. Get ready to be ostracized by the whole class.” She was right about this; Olivia was indeed Type B. We might not know who her parents were, but tomorrow the whole school would know who Olivia’s parents were. We’d see who would be ostracized then. The next day, as soon as she saw Victoria, Lily went over to chat, even bringing her milk tea, acting like a real mother and daughter. But Victoria’s expression was already hiding daggers behind her smile. She recognized this girl as Robert’s mistress at a glance. But this was school, with so many eyes watching. They had to keep up appearances. During Victoria’s speech, Lily couldn’t stop talking: “My mom said she’s taking me for French cuisine tonight. I bet some people are so jealous.” When she said “some people,” she looked at us. Everyone cast envious glances at her, but she wouldn’t be smiling for long. “My daughter is also in the audience today. Finally, I’d like to invite her on stage to take a photo with me as a memento.”
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