After being bound to the Compulsory Truth System, my billionaire parents finally took me home. Chloe, the fake daughter, tearfully asked: “Now that you’re back, should I leave?” I snapped back: “Then get out already!” My billionaire parents fumed, “Do you believe we’ll kick you out again?” My mouth blurted out, “Oh, for real? Awesome! Bye-bye then!” Then I became a detective. Officer Blake, looking suspicious, pointed at three photos and asked: “There’s been a serial murder case in our city recently. Who among these three is the killer?” I gave an answer that nobody expected. They were stunned, but I just smiled. After being bound to the Compulsory Truth System, I’d been super careful, keeping my mouth shut whenever possible. I couldn’t help it; my mouth had a mind of its own. But Chloe, the fake daughter, just had to ask, her voice trembling with fake tears: “Since you’re back, should I really leave?” My mouth said: “Don’t just leave, *run*.” Chloe froze, then burst into louder sobs. My dad, Mr. Sterling, roared: “Get upstairs, now!” I scurried up like a shot. Back in the bedroom, which was basically a presidential suite, I locked the door and let out a long sigh of relief. This stupid system was such a pain. Dinner time. Under the crystal chandelier, the long dining table was set with exquisite cutlery. Chloe sat beside my mom, her eyes red, looking utterly pitiful. I silently pulled out the chair furthest from them and sat down, trying my best to become part of the background. ” Eat more, you’re too thin,” Mrs. Sterling said, signaling the maid to serve me. I nodded, making a quiet “Mm” sound. Chloe speared a piece of fish with her fork, her voice soft and sweet: “Try this fish, is it good?” No! My internal alarm bells blared as I stared at that piece of fish. Seriously, mouth, you can say declarative sentences, exclamatory sentences, parallel sentences, but why, *why* do you have to choose a question?! I wanted to say “thank you,” but my mouth, against my will, spilled out: “Oh, that fish was thawed yesterday at 3 PM and then left at room temperature in the kitchen for over four hours before steaming. It’s not very fresh anymore. You eat it yourself.” The air instantly froze. Chloe’s fork stopped mid-air, her face cycling through shades of red and white. Mrs. Sterling clattered her fork down, her perfectly manicured face set in a frosty glare: “**(Y/N)** Sterling! Are you deliberately trying to upset the entire family?!” I wanted to cover my mouth, but couldn’t stop myself from saying: “She’s a fake daughter, she’s been constantly trying to undermine me, can’t you see that?” I was toast. I knew I was in deep trouble. Ever since I’d come back, the Sterling family had avoided talking about Chloe’s future. Her living expenses and luxuries remained untouched; they clearly intended to keep her. Mr. Sterling shot me a furious glare: “Eat your dinner!” I finished that meal under Chloe’s barely-there sniffles and the icy stares of my parents. I ate super fast, then immediately stood up: “I’m done. Enjoy your meal.” And then I got out of there. Behind me, I heard Mrs. Sterling comforting Chloe: “Don’t mind her, sweetie. She grew up in the countryside, no manners…”
The next day, I was dumped into the city’s most exclusive private school, in the same class as Chloe. I didn’t even need to think; this was definitely Chloe’s idea. They claimed it was for me to get the best education, but in reality, she wanted me to feel inferior and timid in comparison to her. I walked into the classroom, wearing a brand new, but utterly uncomfortable, designer uniform, led by the homeroom teacher. Whispers filled the room, and eyes of all sorts—curious, scrutinizing, mostly disdainful—fell upon me. Chloe sat in the front row, flashing me a perfect, gentle smile. I silently walked to the empty seat in the back row and sat down, continuing my “shut up” policy. If I could use a gesture, I wouldn’t speak. If a nod or shake of the head sufficed, I wouldn’t utter a single word. Until math class. The teacher, Ms. Albright, probably got a special directive from the Sterling family to give me extra “attention.” “*can you tell us how to solve this problem?” It was an insanely difficult Olympiad-level math problem. Forget about me, a small-town girl who’d never touched such problems; even the class geniuses rarely got it right. I stared at the blackboard, my mind completely blank. Just as I was about to honestly say, “I don’t know,” my mouth opened like a floodgate, fluently rattling off the solution steps and the final answer. It even added a commentary: “Actually, using the Cauchy-Schwarz inequality would be more concise, or constructing an auxiliary function and taking its derivative also works.” I spoke for over ten minutes before stopping. The classroom was utterly silent. Ms. Albright pushed up her thick glasses, looked at the blackboard, then at me, her eyes filled with shock and disbelief. “Th-that’s… absolutely correct! And the logic is incredibly clear, the solution is very advanced! have you… encountered problems like this before?” I stood frozen, a stampede of thoughts in my mind: *Teacher, would you believe me if I said I was just possessed by an alien?* I really wanted to know how my mouth knew the Cauchy-Schwarz inequality! “…No.” I answered dryly, which, for once, was the truth. My classmates’ eyes instantly changed, from dismissive to astonished. Only Chloe, looking back at me, had a smile that was a little strained. The bell rang for break, and I was the first one out of the classroom, bolting into the restroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized this cursed mouth not only spoke the truth, but it also spoke *facts*, whether I personally knew them or not. Didn’t that make me a passive human search engine? And one with 100% accuracy, at that? This discovery, amidst my horror, secretly sparked a thrill. Maybe this bug-like ability wasn’t entirely a bad thing?
Chloe clearly wasn’t going to let me live in peace. After school, as soon as I walked out the gate, she and her little clique stopped me. Many students around us slowed down, ready for some drama. Chloe put on a worried expression today: “I know you just came back and want to show off. But… what you did in math class today, it really put the teacher in an awkward position. That problem was so difficult, you must have… seen the answer somewhere beforehand, right?” Her voice wasn’t too loud or too soft, just enough for everyone around to hear clearly. Immediately, suspicious and mocking glances fell on me. I sneered internally, *trying to spread rumors out of thin air?* My mouth automatically started, speaking as fast as a machine gun: “The one who’s in an awkward position is you, Chloe, isn’t it? That handwritten physics formula cheat sheet in your desk, do you need me to find it and read it out loud right now?” Chloe’s face instantly changed, and she unconsciously glanced toward the classroom. I didn’t stop, turning to her head follower, a fashionably dressed girl named Brittany. “And you, Brittany, stop stirring up trouble here. Your basketball player boyfriend was messaging and flirting with three girls at 10:30 last night. The chat history is *very* exciting. Do you need me to remind you of the specific contents? Like how he called one of them ‘sweetie pie’?” Brittany’s face turned instantly white, and she shrieked: “You’re lying!” I then pointed to another chubby boy named Dylan: “Dylan, don’t you dare smirk. That precious notebook in your drawer, signed by Chloe, she threw it in the trash because she didn’t want it, and you picked it up. Not only does she know, she also thinks you’re pretty gross.” The scene fell into a deathly silence, then erupted into an even bigger commotion. The few people I’d named were utterly pale, and the surrounding students’ gazes instantly shifted from me to them, filled with shock. Chloe was shaking with rage, pointing at me: “You… you’re making things up!” I blinked innocently: “Whether I’m making things up, you all know best yourselves, don’t you? Sorry, I have things to do, so I’m leaving.” Before they could recover from the shock of the truth, I quickly squeezed through the crowd. Though I didn’t let them get the better of me, I also clearly realized that if I kept speaking without regard for the situation, something major was bound to happen sooner or later.
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