On graduation night, the college underclassman who had been chasing me for six months got me dead drunk and tricked me into bed. But when I woke up, he smiled and told me: “You didn’t just sleep with me last night.” Immediately after, photos of me in bed with a group of strange, middle-aged men went viral all over the internet. The caption read: “Shared sugar baby, employed right upon graduation.” I went to confront him, only to be met with his icy, venomous words: “Isn’t your mother’s favorite hobby being a homewrecker? As her daughter, it’s only natural you surpass her.” The night my mom saw the trending hashtag, she was so furious and devastated that she suffered a massive stroke. When she woke up, her cognitive abilities were permanently stuck at the age of eight. To keep my mom alive, I became the reigning queen of pole dancing at a local nightclub. Eight years later, twisting my waist under the blinding neon lights, I looked up—and saw those familiar eyes sitting in the VIP booth. …… I was sweating profusely on stage. As my inner thighs gripped the rapidly spinning metal pole, the friction burned like fire. It had been eight years, but my skin still hadn’t adapted to the brutal friction. But I didn’t dare stop. Every cheer from the crowd below could turn into cash, and that cash would turn into my mom’s specialty medication tomorrow. Spin. Invert. Split. Right as I executed a high-difficulty backward drop, my gaze slammed violently into a pair of eyes in the crowd. My movements faltered, and I plummeted straight down from the ten-foot pole. “Bang!” I hit the hard floor solidly, a piercing agony shooting up from my ankle. Boos erupted from the crowd, mixed with vulgar, mocking laughter. “What the hell was that?!” “If you can’t dance, get off the damn stage!” Rick, the floor manager, rushed up in a panic. He bowed and apologized to the crowd while violently yanking me to my feet, hissing through gritted teeth: “Chloe! Do you have a fucking death wish?!” “Do you know how many people are watching tonight? If you ruin this club’s reputation, can you afford to pay for it?!” I clutched my rapidly swelling ankle, trembling from the pain. I looked up toward the VIP booth again, but the familiar eyes I had just seen were gone. Had I imagined it? “What are you standing around for? Get the hell backstage!” Rick’s scolding snapped me back to reality. I gritted my teeth and limped off the stage. Back in the messy dressing room, I had barely sat down when a waiter pushed the door open and threw a cold sentence at me: “Rick said you caused a major accident tonight. Your entire pay for the shift is docked.” “What?” I jerked my head up, my heart plummeting. “All of it? But my mom has physical therapy the day after tomorrow!” Getty Images Khám phá I grabbed the waiter’s arm, my voice laced with begging. “Can you please help me beg Rick? I promise I’ll be careful next time, it will never happen again!” The waiter shook off my hand with a look of disgust. “Begging won’t help. He’s pissed.” “Besides, you’re the one who messed up on stage. Who else is there to blame?” He turned and left, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I collapsed back into my chair, the throbbing in my ankle mixing with the sheer panic in my chest. Therapy bills, medication costs, rent… a mountain of bills swirled in my head, suffocating me. If I didn’t get paid tonight, my mom’s therapy would have to be delayed. Just as I was drowning in despair, the dressing room door opened. Rick walked in, his face slightly softer than before. “Chloe, come with me. The guests in the Diamond Room specifically requested you for a private show. Double pay.” My heart skipped a beat. I knew exactly what a private show entailed. A closed door, expensive alcohol, and hands that didn’t care about boundaries. I had always avoided them like the plague. But thinking of my mom’s therapy bills, thinking of the debt collectors, I hesitated. “What? You don’t want to?” Rick raised an eyebrow. “That’s fine. But don’t expect your base salary this month either.” “I’ll go.” I gritted my teeth. I had already fallen this far. What right did I have to be picky? Rick smiled in satisfaction. “That’s more like it. You’re already in this line of work, why pretend to be some pure saint?” “Hurry up and change. Don’t keep the guests waiting.” I dug a conservative black slip dress out of my locker, wrapped a thin cardigan over it, and followed Rick down the hall to the Diamond Room. Pushing the door open, Rick immediately slapped on a sycophantic smile: “Marcus, I brought her. This is our top girl, Chloe.” I followed Rick’s gaze, trying to force a polite smile, but my eyes instantly froze. Sitting in the center of the plush leather sofa was the exact face I had seen from the stage. Liam Vance. I hadn’t imagined it. Eight years had passed, and he was no longer the green, lovesick college underclassman who used to follow me around. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his features were sharp and composed, exuding the untouchable aura of an A-list Hollywood actor. And I had become a cheap nightclub pole dancer. The humiliation lasted only a second before I shoved my emotions down. The current me didn’t have the luxury of pride. Following Rick’s instructions, I stepped onto the small stage in the center of the room and began moving to the music. I kept a flattering smile plastered on my face, even as sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging them painfully. When the song ended, sparse applause echoed in the room. Liam, who hadn’t spoken a word the entire time, finally opened his mouth. His voice dripped with bone-chilling mockery: “Chloe. Eight years later, and you’ve really come up in the world.” The room went dead silent. The men beside him immediately noticed the tension and asked with amused curiosity: “Liam, do you know her?” Liam picked up his glass of red wine, his gaze sweeping over me with contempt. “Not really. We just went to the same college. I had the privilege of hearing all about her ‘glorious exploits’ back then.” He placed a heavy, loaded emphasis on the words glorious exploits. The men around him immediately exchanged knowing, dirty laughs. “Well, since she’s an old alum of our famous leading man, shouldn’t she give us a real show?” A man with a thick gold chain jeered: “Do a striptease for us! Liven things up!” My body went rigid, all the color draining from my face. “I’m sorry… I… I don’t do that kind of dance.” “Don’t do it?” The gold-chain man scoffed. “You work at a club, stop acting like a prude! Dance well, and we’ll reward you.” He pulled a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and slammed it onto the glass table. The others followed suit. Soon, a small mountain of cash piled up on the table. Under the dim, hypnotic lights, that money radiated a filthy, irresistible allure. In my mind, I saw the hospital’s overdue notices, my mom’s innocent, childlike eyes, and the impatient voices of the nurses. As the seconds ticked by, the anticipation in the room soured into impatience. “Are you gonna strip or not? If not, get the hell out!” someone shouted. Liam just sat there, leisurely sipping his wine. He was the high-and-mighty spectator, and I was the meat on the chopping block, waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. My fingernails dug so deeply into my palms that the pain was the only thing keeping me conscious. I gave a slow, barely perceptible nod. The music started again, a heavier, more suggestive beat. I reached up and pulled out my hair tie, letting my long hair cascade down my back. Then, with trembling fingers, I reached for the zipper on the side of my dress. The sound of the metal teeth sliding down was quiet but deafening to my ears. The dress slipped off my shoulders, revealing the thin black lace bra underneath. The AC was blasting, raising a field of goosebumps across my bare skin. I moved mechanically, instinctively trying to cover myself with my arms, which only earned louder, more excited catcalls. Just as my trembling hands reached around to unhook my bra— “That’s enough,” Liam said, his brow furrowed in deep disgust. Every sound and movement in the room stopped instantly. I stood frozen on the stage, the half-removed dress hanging off the crook of my arm. He stood up, looking down at me as if I were a cockroach. “A dog really can’t change its nature. You’re exactly like your mother. As long as there’s money, you’ll spread your legs for anyone.” With that, he turned and walked out. The heavy door slammed shut behind him. With Liam gone, the rest of the men lost their interest. They grabbed their coats, preparing to leave. I hastily pulled my dress back up, wrapping my cardigan tightly around myself, standing awkwardly with my head bowed. Before leaving, Producer Marcus Thorne suddenly approached me. He shoved a business card down the front of my dress, his breath reeking of expensive liquor. “Miss Chloe, right? You’ve got a spectacular body, and you know how to move it.” He leaned in, his eyes wandering sleazily over my chest. “I’m casting a new project. We need actors willing to be… bold. Create some truly ‘artistic’ adult films.” “If you’re interested, give me a call. The pay is highly negotiable.” The door clicked shut. The room was finally empty. I looked up and numbly wiped a tear from my cheek. I walked over to the table and picked up the scattered hundred-dollar bills, gently smoothing out their creases, stacking them neatly. I counted them twice. It was exactly $5,500. I did the math in my head. My mom’s specialty meds for next month—the best imported brand—cost $1,200 a vial. I could buy four vials right now. That left $700. Winter was coming, and last year she kept complaining her feet were cold. I could buy her a thick pair of UGG boots and a warm down jacket. The radiator in our apartment was always breaking. When I looked at it that way… tonight was actually completely worth it. It was just being looked at, touched a few times, and enduring insults I’d already heard a thousand times over. I survived it. Compared to the cold, merciless numbers on a hospital bill, what was a little lost dignity? I pushed myself up on my numb knees, carefully stashing the thick wad of cash into my bag. As I turned to leave, my peripheral vision caught the business card lying on the edge of the carpet. I stopped at the doorway, my hand resting on the freezing doorknob. The doctor had told me there was a specialized neuro-hospital in New York that could completely cure my mom’s cognitive damage. But the surgery cost was astronomical: $100,000. To me, it was an impossible sum. What kind of “film” could Marcus Thorne possibly want me for? Obviously, it was going to be cheap, degrading, explicit trash. But if shooting one film meant I could walk away with $100,000, what did I have left to lose? My body had already been ruined and dirtied eight years ago, hadn’t it? What difference did it make if it got a little dirtier? As long as I got that $100,000. I took a deep breath, turned around, walked back, and picked up the business card. A week later, I arrived at the address Marcus had given me. It was a secluded mansion up in the hills. There were barely any crew members—maybe three people total. Marcus greeted me with a sleazy smile, saying we needed to do a “costume test” first. His assistant handed me an outfit made of translucent mesh that barely qualified as lingerie. It covered almost nothing. Marcus directed the shoot himself, barking orders for me to strike degrading, provocative poses. “Arch your back… stick it out.” “Look up, drop the strap off your shoulder.” The blinding studio lights hit my skin, and my first instinct was to cross my arms over my chest. “Put your hands down. Act natural.” “Yeah, turn around, dip your waist lower… part your legs a little more.” “The eyes, give me bedroom eyes! Look at the lens and imagine you’re desperate for it…” I was a puppet with its strings cut, mindlessly contorting into whatever suggestive positions he demanded. I swallowed my nausea and just kept repeating the number in my head: One hundred thousand… One hundred thousand… Once I got this money, my mom could have her surgery. After the shoot, Marcus personally walked me to the door. The moment I stepped out of the mansion, I bumped right into Liam, who was walking out holding a woman’s hand. When he saw me, he froze dead in his tracks. Marcus quickly stepped forward with an obsequious grin. “Liam! What a coincidence, what brings you to the hills?” Liam ignored him. His eyes were locked onto me, staring with an intensity that felt like he was trying to flay me alive. The woman beside him broke the silence, her voice soft and polite. “Hello, Marcus.” “And who might this be?” Marcus asked. Liam finally broke his stare, his tone softening as he introduced her: “This is Audrey. My fiancée.”

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The new intern at our law firm was haughty and full of herself. When I assigned her to photocopy case files, she went straight to the managing partner to complain. “I have my JD and passed the bar. Why am I doing scut work every day?” Fine. I washed my hands of her. I let her take the lead on a $200,000 promissory note dispute. She took the file to organize the exhibits. And promptly fed the original, signed $200,000 promissory note right into the paper shredder. The trial was just days away. I couldn’t wait to see how she was going to explain this to the client. 1 A new junior associate had just joined our team. She looked delicate, quiet, and well-educated. Her name was Chloe Miller. I checked her resume. She was a local, having graduated from a mid-tier state university. Since we were the only two female attorneys on the litigation team, the managing partner, Richard Davis, specifically asked me to mentor her. I agreed without hesitation. At the end of the day, I knew how hard it was for women to grind their way up in the legal field. I genuinely wanted to teach her the ropes, starting from the absolute basics to help her get familiar with actual legal practice. 2 The legal profession is entirely different from what you see on TV. In law school, you learn theory. But when you step into the real world, you realize the textbooks are miles away from actual practice. When I started, I built my foundation by organizing case files. We had just taken on a construction contract dispute. I handed the files to Chloe and told her to make two copies of everything, stressing that she couldn’t afford any mistakes. I specifically instructed: “Make sure every page is legible. When you bind them, keep them in exact chronological order. Do not mix them up.” “Got it, Sarah. Don’t worry,” she promised. But an entire morning passed, and she hadn’t delivered the copies. I figured she was just slow and didn’t want to rush her. By the time 5:00 PM rolled around, the materials were still nowhere to be seen. I walked over to her cubicle. “Chloe, where are the construction files I asked you to copy this morning?” She was leaning over, chatting excitedly with another intern. Hearing my voice, she jolted. “Oh shoot, Sarah, I totally forgot!” I followed her to the copy room, only to find the files hadn’t been copied at all. They were just dumped on a side table. “What’s going on? Who moved my stuff?” Chloe yelled angrily. I shushed her. “Oh, Sarah, are those your team’s files?” Attorney Roberts called out as he walked by. “The copier jammed this morning and no one came to fix it for hours. People needed the machine, so we just set your stack aside.” I nodded to him. “Thanks, Mark. Sorry for the hassle.” Once he left, I turned to Chloe. “If you had just checked on the machine once, cleared the paper jam, this wouldn’t have been delayed all day, and you wouldn’t have blocked other people from working.” I tried to keep my tone even, wanting to save the young girl some face. To my surprise, Chloe got defensive. She stiffened her neck and argued, “I was discussing a complex breach-of-contract case with a colleague. I figured I should prioritize the important stuff. That case has a lot of tricky legal nuances, we debated it for hours.” I almost laughed out loud. A rookie who just passed the bar with zero practical experience, who couldn’t even manage a copy machine, was supposedly cracking a “complex” case? What profound insights could she possibly offer? It wasn’t that I looked down on her. It was just that she was out of school now. If you can’t even handle your basic job duties, what future do you have? 3 In that moment, most of my desire to mentor her evaporated. She looked quiet, but her ego was sky-high. She had no grounding. But considering it was her first week, I chalked it up to her still having a “student mentality” and didn’t push it. I just waved my hand. “Reprint the materials, bind them neatly as requested, and have them on my desk first thing tomorrow morning.” “But… it’s almost time to clock out,” Chloe pouted. I gave her a flat look. “For litigators, overtime is a daily routine. I assumed you were prepared for that.” The next day. I handed her a different batch of case files. I quickly noticed how incredibly careless she was. Out of a few hundred pages, the order was constantly scrambled, and some pages were printed upside down. After I corrected her a few times, she visibly lost her patience. “Sarah, I have a JD. I passed the bar exam. Having me do this grunt work of copying and binding every single day is a massive waste of my time, don’t you think?” Who in this firm hasn’t passed the bar? I thought. And does she think her degree makes her special? Half the lawyers in our firm went to T14 law schools. She went to a state college. I kept my patience and explained: “Every lawyer starts with this work. The case file is the foundation of the lawsuit. Organizing it is how you familiarize yourself with the facts.” She clearly didn’t listen. Muttering under her breath, she grabbed the binders and walked away. That afternoon, walking past the copy room, I saw her sitting in a chair scrolling through TikTok. I decided to give the copying tasks to another intern. If she didn’t want to organize files, fine. Let’s do paperwork. I assigned Chloe to draft an Evidence Exhibit List. Honestly, copying is the easiest thing in a law firm. If you can’t do that, you might as well be a janitor. But when she handed in the Exhibit List, I got a massive headache. It was a disaster. The “Purpose of Evidence” and “Contents of Evidence” sections were completely conflated. Not only were the Bates numbers wrong, but the document was riddled with typos. In one instance, the dates and amounts on a bank statement exhibit didn’t even match her description. “Chloe, being a lawyer requires absolute precision. Sometimes, a single typo or a wrong dollar amount can ruin a judge’s trust in our evidence,” I said, suppressing my annoyance. Instead of taking notes, she glanced at it and pushed back. “Sarah, it’s just an index. Close enough is fine. You’re being way too nitpicky. These little things don’t affect the case.” I finally understood. This girl wasn’t just arrogant and incompetent; she was unteachable. I didn’t argue. I just slid the document back to her. “Redo it. Use the firm template. And I don’t want to see a single mistake.” I thought she would learn her lesson. Instead, the second I got to work the next morning, the managing partner, Richard Davis, called me into his office. 4 “Sarah, our new associate complained to me. She said you’re intentionally making things difficult for her, assigning her tedious chores, and hyper-fixating on minor errors to stress her out.” I froze. “Richard, I’m not making things difficult. This is how everyone starts…” Richard took a sip of his coffee and smirked. “I know you’re a perfectionist. But Chloe is just a young girl fresh out of school. You aren’t feeling… threatened by having a younger woman around, are you?” Richard was generous with his compensation, and for a guy pushing forty, he was decent-looking. But he had the classic toxic traits of a middle-aged boss. He constantly diminished the role of women in the workplace and loved having his ego stroked by young, pretty associates. I furrowed my brow. We were discussing workflow, and he was spewing this garbage? Did he really think I was in some petty catfight over looks with an intern? Seeing his attitude, I knew I needed to keep my distance from Chloe. “Richard, my caseload is overflowing right now. I honestly don’t have the bandwidth to mentor a junior associate.” Richard nodded. “Fine. Get back to work.” Soon after, Richard handed a seemingly straightforward personal loan case directly to Chloe. When we met the client, Richard brought Chloe and me along. The client, Mrs. Higgins, was a woman in her late forties with a sharp perm and even sharper eyes. You could tell immediately she wasn’t an easy person to deal with. After a brief greeting, she cut to the chase. “Your retainer is too high. I asked around, and another firm quoted me 30% less. My case isn’t complicated, can you lower the fee? Besides, I know a bit of law myself, I can handle some of the legwork. You won’t have to hold my hand.” Richard looked troubled. “Mrs. Higgins, our firm has strict standardized billing rates.” Mrs. Higgins pressed, “Mr. Davis, you’re the lead attorney on my case, right? I only trust experienced partners like you.” Chloe’s face instantly dropped. She was desperate to prove herself, only to be completely ignored by the client. “Ma’am, I am the lead attorney on this case. Mr. Davis has assigned it to me, and I am fully capable of handling all matters.” Mrs. Higgins paused, looking Chloe up and down. Her disdain was completely unfiltered. She scoffed. “Little girl, how old are you? How many years have you been litigating? I’m paying top dollar here; my money isn’t funding your practice runs.” That was like throwing gasoline on a fire. Chloe opened her mouth to snap back, but Richard quickly intervened. Playing the peacemaker, Richard smiled. “Mrs. Higgins, don’t worry. Attorney Miller is young, but her professional skills are sharp. She passed the bar on her first try and she’s very dedicated. Plus, I will be co-counseling and supervising her the entire time. It’s essentially getting two attorneys for the price of one. It’s highly cost-effective. We can offer a slight courtesy discount on the retainer, but that’s as low as we can go to guarantee quality service.” Mrs. Higgins mulled it over. After making Richard promise multiple times that he would be heavily involved, she reluctantly agreed. But she didn’t forget to issue a warning: “I’m telling you right now, if there is a single mistake in my case, there will be hell to pay.” She didn’t look at Chloe once for the rest of the meeting. Chloe sat there, her face shifting through every color of the rainbow. 5 After walking the client out, Chloe slammed the case file onto her desk. “She is so incredibly condescending! Just because she’s older, she thinks I’m incompetent? When I was on my college debate team, I mapped out logic for cases ten times more complex than this. What’s so hard about a simple loan dispute?” I offered a word of caution: “Clients like her need to be handled carefully. Just do the work properly and use the results to prove her wrong. By the way, make sure you organize the exhibits properly. Especially the original documents. Put the originals in a separate folder and lock them in the firm’s fireproof filing cabinet.” That afternoon, I was buried in my own cases and didn’t check on her progress. Walking past her desk later, I saw Chloe typing furiously on her computer. The case files were scattered across her desk in absolute chaos. The original, handwritten $200,000 promissory note was mixed into a pile of random photocopies, not separated or secured at all. I was about to say, “Chloe, you—” She cut me off with an attitude: “Sarah, I’m really busy right now. Can you not interrupt me?” Fine, I thought. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Three days later, the trial was fast approaching. Chloe suddenly burst into my office, her face paper-white. Her voice was trembling. “S-Sarah… I have a hypothetical question. What happens if an original piece of evidence goes missing?” A bad feeling instantly washed over me. “What original evidence? How did it go missing?” Chloe flinched, her eyes darting everywhere but at me. She panicked and dodged the question. “I-I’m just asking hypothetically! I didn’t say it was actually missing.” Watching her guilty, frantic deflection, I already knew exactly what had happened. “Chloe, documentary evidence is the absolute foundation of a judge’s ruling—” I started, but she cut me off again. “But isn’t that why they hire lawyers?! We’re supposed to use our eloquence to persuade the judge and destroy opposing counsel!” Chloe argued defensively. “I’ve seen Better Call Saul! Lawyers give amazing speeches in court, and when I did debate, I always—” I almost burst out laughing. Aside from the fact that Hollywood dramatizes the law for TV… did she seriously not understand the basic rules of civil procedure? “TV shows are for entertainment,” I said coldly. “This isn’t Hollywood. Real American civil litigation isn’t won by a dramatic monologue to a jury. It’s won on procedure and the Best Evidence Rule. In a bench trial over a promissory note, if you lose the original document, it’s inadmissible hearsay. The judge will toss the exhibit, we will lose the case instantly, the client will sue us for damages, and you’ll be hit with a malpractice claim.” Chloe’s brow furrowed tightly. She mumbled a vague “Got it,” and quickly scurried out of my office. Not long after, Richard posted a docket update in our team’s Slack channel. “@Chloe, the hearing date for Mrs. Higgins’s loan case got rescheduled by the court. You have plenty of time to prep the exhibits now, no rush.” “Understood, Mr. Davis!” With the trial delayed by two weeks, Chloe suddenly looked completely calm and collected again. I even started to wonder if I had misjudged the situation. Maybe I was overthinking it? Maybe she really had just locked the original note away? But my gut told me something was very wrong.

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I was a prim and strict secretary to CEO Aaron Kingston. In three years of work, I had never made a single mistake. Until this day, I ran into Aaron at a bar. I was drunk, and I rushed over, treating him like a dog and lecturing him all night. Afraid of losing my job, the next day I claimed he had encountered my twin sister. Aaron stared at me thoughtfully, and after a long pause, said, “Your salary goes up by two thousand every month. Send me your sister’s contact info.” 1 As exhilarating as last night was, that’s how utterly humiliated I felt now. Aaron Kingston sat in his office, his thin lips bearing a hint of blood, his long neck still showing distinct scratch marks—all my handiwork from last night. Guiltily averting my gaze, I thought I’d misheard him. I instinctively asked, “Pardon me, what did you just say?” My distraction caused Aaron’s brow to furrow slightly in displeasure. But he repeated, “Send me your sister’s contact info.” “May I ask what this is about?” “Personal business.” After a moment of silence, I said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kingston, I may not be able to help you. Actually… my sister and I aren’t very close.” Aaron raised an eyebrow slightly, and I braced myself, continuing, “You may not know, but my sister and I parted ways after our parents’ divorce, and I haven’t been in touch with her for a long time.” “Not in touch for a long time, yet she called me ‘Kingston’s dog’?” Aaron scoffed. “Yesterday, your sister was quite rude to me. I’ve never met her before, so unless you mentioned me to her, how would she know who I am?” At that, my hairs stood on end. How could I have forgotten that part! Last night, I really had lost control. Drunk, I’d run into Aaron, marched up to him, and slapped him across the face. “Bold Kingston’s dog, why do you not kneel before your queen?!” It had completely stunned him. I don’t remember anything after that. When my memory started to return, Aaron was stripped down to just his tie, his hands tied behind his back in an X-shape, kneeling before me, calling me “Queen.” The thought made me mortified all over again. I cleared my throat. “Well, there’s still a tiny bit of contact, we’ve exchanged a few jokes, I didn’t think she’d take it seriously…” “My sister is just impulsive and reckless. If she offended you in any way, please don’t take it to heart.” “It’s already taken to heart,” Aaron said expressionlessly. “I won’t make things difficult for you. Find an opportunity to ask her. I believe she’d be happy to add me as a friend.” With that, he waved his hand. “You may leave.” Walking out of the office, my rigidly held posture finally crumbled. 2 I was known for being a prim and proper secretary. Meticulous in my work. Reserved with people. For three diligent years, I’d never made a single mistake. But in truth, being a secretary wasn’t my career plan. I intended to use it as a stepping stone to earn Aaron Kingston’s recommendation. Last week, I learned that a branch company was being formed, and there was a managerial position open. Aaron, as the head of the project, had absolute recommendation power. A few days ago, I had submitted my application, and the results hadn’t been announced yet. As soon as I reached my desk, a few colleagues gathered around. “Cara, has the transfer list been decided?” “No.” “It should be you, right? Mr. Kingston trusts you so much; it feels like there’s no one else.” “I think so too. Apart from the boss, Cara is the busiest person in the whole company. She probably hasn’t had a full weekend in three years, has she?” I smiled and shook my head. “Not necessarily. The boss has his own plans.” But despite saying that, I still held some hope. To my surprise, the next day, Aaron called me into his office. “The recommended candidate for the new company’s general manager position has been submitted to the OA for the board of directors’ approval and announcement.” I glanced at the list. Elaine Foster. She joined the company at the same time as me. The only difference was that I was assigned to the CEO’s office, while she remained in the business department. I held the list without moving. Aaron looked at me strangely. “Anything else?” “May I ask why I was passed over?” He was surprised I would ask. “No reason. You’re not suitable.” I pressed further. “Where am I not suitable?” Aaron’s eyes showed displeasure. “The new company needs someone who understands business, is bold, and innovative. You’re conservative and meticulous, too focused on minor details. You’re fine for administration, but not suitable for market development.” “But I…” “Alright, let’s not discuss this further. The list has been finalized on my end. Your job is to execute.” With that, his face darkened, and he lowered his head to review documents, ignoring me. This was his way of refusing further discussion. Aaron Kingston was known for being particular, with many strict rules. He liked his water at 45 degrees Celsius, only drank black coffee, wore only black jackets, and even had a preferred angle for his computer monitor. For three years, I meticulously observed his every habit, fearful of crossing his boundaries. Now, all I got was “too focused on minor details.” My heart completely sank. Taking a breath, I decided to speak again. “Mr. Kingston, there’s one more thing I need to report.” “Speak.” “You asked me to speak to my sister earlier. I’ve asked for her opinion.” Aaron’s expression softened slightly, and he looked up at me again. “What did she say?” “She said yes.” Aaron’s lips curved upwards. He hummed. “Alright, just send me her contact.” Then, thinking of something, he corrected himself: “No, you send her my contact. I’ll add her myself.” 3 After the list was released, I received many condolences that afternoon. “Mr. Kingston must have been reluctant to let you go. After all, you’re his confidante.” “It’s a competency trap. Mr. Kingston probably thought he wouldn’t find a suitable secretary without you.” “And for a new company, I think Mr. Kingston wanted a man. Women really don’t have an advantage in the workplace.” On the surface, I pretended indifference, saying I didn’t care much. But internally, my molars were grinding. Damn you, Aaron Kingston. This time, I’m going to make you regret this! Before leaving work, I registered a burner account. My profile picture was a side profile taken during my university days. Wearing a black slip dress, with wavy red hair cascading over my shoulders, I looked completely different from my current self, with my thick glasses and meticulously combed hair. After confirming there were no other issues, I pushed the contact card to Aaron Kingston. Soon, he added me. I accepted his request and was the first to reply: [Heard you were looking for me?] He replied almost instantly. [Yeah, shouldn’t someone be responsible after hitting a person? My knees still hurt.] [Then your kneeling posture must not have been up to standard.] [You’re right, it’s all my fault.] Before I could reply, he sent another message. I opened it. It was a picture. A selfie of a man kneeling behind an office desk. His face wasn’t visible, but the suit trousers indicated it was him. [Are you satisfied now, Your Highness?] Hiss—Playing such a dangerous game! I suddenly gasped, instinctively turning my phone away. But inexplicably, there was also a hint of secret excitement. I subconsciously glanced at Aaron Kingston’s office. The door was tightly closed. I couldn’t see what the person inside was doing. I tapped my phone, changing his contact name to [Aaron’s Dog]. When it was time to leave, a colleague leaned over. “Cara, it’s the department team-building tonight. Whose car are you riding in?” I paused, realizing it was the department’s annual dinner. The venue was a bar. But I was allergic to bars lately, so I immediately declined. “I have to work late, so I won’t be going.” As expected, a look of sympathy immediately appeared on their face. “The boss’s work pace is really insane. Only you in the whole company can keep up.” I forced a bitter laugh, not elaborating. It wasn’t until everyone from the department had left that I finally relaxed. My arms were sore from slapping him last night, and I wanted to take this chance to go home early and catch up on sleep. As I was shutting down my computer, footsteps sounded behind me. “You didn’t go to dinner tonight?” Although I didn’t particularly want to see Aaron Kingston right now, due to the promotion list, I managed not to show it, forcing myself to perk up. “No, I still have some work to do.” “Are you done now?” Unsure of what he was up to, I conservatively said, “Almost.” “Then I’ll wait for you. We can leave together shortly.” I paused. “Leave? Go where?” “Team building.” I was a bit surprised. “You’re going too?” Aaron Kingston raised an eyebrow. “What, I’m not allowed?” I immediately put on my professional fake smile. “Of course, you can go.” The ride was silent. Aaron Kingston sat beside me, crossing his legs. I remembered the photo he sent me, kneeling on a stool. I couldn’t resist glancing at him. He caught me looking. “Something wrong?” “It seems you have a scratch here. Do you need a band-aid?” In my nervousness, I blurted out a random excuse, pointing to his Adam’s apple. Then I immediately regretted it even more! That spot on his Adam’s apple was where I had bitten him! Aaron Kingston frowned slightly, opened his phone, and checked his front camera. His voice immediately cooled. “No.” I didn’t dare say anything. Unexpectedly, the next second, my phone started vibrating wildly. Aaron’s Dog: [You bit my neck.] Aaron’s Dog: [And your sister saw it too. How am I supposed to explain this?] I glanced at my phone screen, afraid Aaron Kingston would notice anything. I didn’t dare reply. Aaron Kingston tapped his fingers on his knee. Then he started texting again. Aaron’s Dog: [Hello? Why aren’t you answering?] Aaron’s Dog: [I’m not blaming you, just asking~] Aaron’s Dog: [Are you seeing someone else behind my back?] His typing speed was a bit too fast. I didn’t even have time to put my phone on silent. In the quiet space, my phone vibrated like crazy, doing a full dance. Aaron Kingston grew impatient, casting a glance at me. “Isn’t your phone a bit too loud?” he sneered. “Who is it, talking so much nonsense?” I quickly turned on “Do Not Disturb” and gave a couple of awkward laughs. “Sorry, my dog at home accidentally hit the keyboard.” 4 I was already annoyed, and then when I arrived at the bar, I discovered Elaine Foster was there too. My footsteps faltered. My stomach churned with renewed discomfort. Before, Aaron Kingston never attended department team-building events. Could it be that he knew Elaine was coming and came specifically for her? My established persona was always that of a professional, calm, prim secretary. I greeted everyone as I entered and then retreated to a corner. Everyone was used to my personality and didn’t pay much attention. Elaine saw Aaron Kingston and immediately stood up enthusiastically, surrounding him. She smiled and asked, “Mr. Kingston, I’m crashing your office team building. You don’t mind, do you?” Aaron Kingston lifted his eyelids. “Whether I mind or not, you’re already here, aren’t you?” That single sentence left Elaine completely speechless. Aaron Kingston was notorious for his sharp tongue. Elaine clearly hadn’t experienced it much. The woman’s expression stiffened. She said, “Mr. Kingston, I’d like to toast you. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to gain experience at the new company.” Aaron Kingston subconsciously glanced at me. He cleared his throat. “No need for such thanks. It’s just picking the best from a bad bunch; we couldn’t find anyone else suitable.” Elaine froze again. I, who had been secretly enjoying the moment, suddenly realized something was off. Did that remark just insult me too?! I frowned, pulled out my phone, switched to my burner account, and opened the [Aaron’s Dog] chat. [Slap yourself. Right now, this instant!!!] Beside me, Aaron Kingston’s phone screen lit up. I could visibly see his expression turn strange, and he replied with a question mark. [Why?] Me: [Do I need a reason to give an order?] Me: [What, you can’t even do such a small thing?] Aaron Kingston pursed his lips: [It’s a company dinner tonight, surrounded by subordinates.] [Be good, I’ll let you do whatever you want when we get back tonight, okay?] Me: [No.] Me: [I can find someone else tonight.] The next second, Aaron Kingston raised his hand and slapped himself across the face. The private room fell into an awkward silence for a few seconds. Elaine was the first to react. “Mr. Kingston?” “Mosquito.” A mosquito in a bar’s private room in the dead of winter. I believed it. Elaine believed it too. After slapping himself, he looked down and sent me a message. Aaron’s Dog: [I just hit myself.] Me: [Oh.] Aaron’s Dog: [Satisfied?] I denied it. [I wasn’t even there. How would I know if it was real?] Aaron’s Dog: [Are you inviting me over?] Aaron’s Dog: [The left side hasn’t been slapped yet. Want to try tonight?] Me: ? Help me. This man is truly not normal! By the time the party ended, the red mark on Aaron Kingston’s face hadn’t faded. Truly worthy of being the CEO. He could be so hard on himself!

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Steve was the imposter. After the true heir’s return, he was cast out, left destitute and disgraced. It was then that he and I began our clandestine affair. I, touched by his plight, offered him considerable care and support. Who would have thought that as soon as he found his footing in Port Royale, he would sever ties with me, clinging instead to the wealthy heiress? “It’s over, Eleanor. You’re older than me, and your career is stagnant. Let’s just call it quits and part ways amicably.” I had no objections, a sigh of relief escaping my lips. After all, just yesterday, the Patton family had inquired if I would consider an alliance with their true heir. At the time, I’d been racking my brain for a graceful way to dump Steve. 1. Faced with such a convenient breakup, I certainly wouldn’t refuse. My gaze lingered for a moment on Steve’s tightly clenched jawline before shifting to the dainty girl beside him. “Thank you, Eleanor, for all these years of looking after Steve… I hope my sudden visit isn’t too much of an intrusion.” The hand holding my wine glass slowly lowered to rest beside my right thigh. The girl opposite me looked very young, with platinum blonde hair, clutching a designer cloud bag. “Not at all. A few of us ladies were just having dinner together. Feel free to join us.” I offered the polite response without a flicker of emotion. My friend beside me, however, couldn’t sit still. She leaned in and whispered, “What are you doing, Eleanor? She just stole your boyfriend, and you’re being nice to her?” I simply smiled, giving her a reassuring yet indifferent look. Then, the girl’s voice drifted over again. “Oh, that won’t be necessary. My main reason for coming was to explain to you, miss. You might not know Steve’s background, but he was originally the eldest son of the Patton family. Something happened, and he was cast out, forced to associate with… well, with descendants of nouveau riche families like yours.” “So…?” “So, Steve choosing me means he’s returning to his rightful place. I hope you don’t think he’s betrayed you, and please, don’t try to cling to him.” A strange, awkward tension filled the air. A few people almost snorted with laughter. Only after I cleared my throat did silence return. I placed my wine glass on the table and addressed the girl. “Whether he betrayed me or not, I can distinguish. Also, what’s your name?” “Me? Oh… it’s fine if you know. It’s Iris Vance.” At her reply, the scorn in my eyes deepened. So, it was the Vance family. Last month, her father had hosted a dinner, inviting my mother and me, hoping to secure the Azure City project in the Northern District. A dog begging for scraps from our family, yet so eager to strut and preen in public. “Alright, I understand. If there’s nothing else to say, then please leave.” With my dismissal, Iris snorted, picked up her bag, and strode out of the private room, her high heels clicking. Steve, dressed in a grey shirt, followed behind her. He hadn’t uttered a single word, as if still grappling with my casual acceptance of the breakup and his betrayal. I gazed at that face, a face I’d found so incredibly appealing, and offered a final, knowing smile. 2. “Eleanor, what’s going on? You’re really just going to let that slide?” My friends huddled around me, buzzing with gossip. “That’s just the younger Miss Vance, recently back from abroad. Her family hasn’t really made any headway over the years, but she certainly puts on airs.” “Eleanor, you’re just too modest. If they truly knew who you were, they wouldn’t have dared to utter a peep…” I stared at the deep red liquid shimmering in my wine glass, a faint smile playing on my lips. I shook my head nonchalantly. “You all know Steve and I were just a casual fling. If they knew too much, it would be harder for me to disengage.” So, in Steve’s eyes all these years, my friends and I were merely idle descendants of parvenus. And he, the supposed false heir of a prominent family, was scorned by the entire social circle after being repeatedly ousted from the Patton family for his jealousy of the true heir, Evan Patton. I hadn’t even known of his existence until a particular night. It was at a cocktail party, and I’d noticed him being ridiculed by those trying to curry favor. That day, he wore a custom-tailored suit that was still somewhat presentable, but his cool brown hair was drenched in spilled wine. Distinguished men and women, dressed in opulent attire, stood before him, their mocking voices drifting to the next booth: “Steve, why don’t you just become a male model? Even if your background is utterly lowly, that face of yours is passable. Maybe some wealthy older woman with specific tastes would take you on…” “Hahahaha, seriously, I think Steve appeals more to men. How about going out with some guys? Steve, if you’re desperate for cash, I can introduce you right now!” As the words fell, the slightly overweight man with glasses reached for his wine glass, poised to douse him again. “Enough.” I happened to be in a bad mood that day, finding their clamor too irritating. I turned and called out softly to their table. My gaze then drifted down to Steve’s almost perfect profile, a flicker of admiration in my eyes. “Who are you?!” the slightly chubby man asked, clearly annoyed at the interruption. I averted my gaze. Walking over, I bent down and gently took Steve’s hand, intending to lead him away. He was so thin then, like a delicate puppet devoid of a soul. “Did I say you could leave?” Many people crowded around. The Thorne family had kept an extremely low profile in Port Royale over the years. Many knew the Thornes were a deeply established noble family, yet few had ever seen the Thorne heiress. So, naturally, they didn’t recognize me. I glanced at the few people in front, sighing. “Alright, speak. What will it take for me to take him away?” “Oh, you’re an unfamiliar face, miss. Quite the act.” The young woman next to the slightly chubby man giggled. “How about this, Mr. Davies? Let her pay our tab, then we’ll let them go.” Mr. Davies wore a sinister smile. He then called over a familiar face from the bar. The middle-aged man turned to me. “Beautiful, come settle the bill here.” In the end, under the incredulous stares of everyone present, I paid five hundred and ten thousand dollars to take Steve away. From then on, we knew each other, though he only knew the fabricated identity of a nouveau riche single daughter that I’d spun for him. I knew his reputation was poor—arrogant, materialistic, and cold-blooded. After the Patton family found their true heir, he had repeatedly caused trouble for him. Yes, Steve was truly despicable, but I couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome, his physique perfectly to my taste. The first time I saw him, pale and fragile, his hair wet with wine, I was momentarily lost in his exquisite brokenness. So, I offered him a hundred thousand a month to be my kept man. This illicit arrangement, mutually beneficial, brought me two years of enjoyment. He was mostly compliant, and I covertly supported his career without his knowledge. However, last week, my mother informed me that the Patton family wished to arrange a marriage with me. My heart gave a sudden jolt. The proposed groom, of course, was not Steve, the imposter, but Evan Patton, the true heir. My thoughts drifted back to the private room. Facing my friends’ questions, I let out a soft sigh of relief and confessed. “I originally arranged this gathering hoping you’d help me find an excuse to break up with Steve. But it seems I don’t need to anymore.” “Oh, what a coincidence! Just as Steve and Iris got together…” “Yes.” “Eleanor, that’s great! With your kind of arrangement with Steve, if you had initiated the breakup, he would have demanded a huge severance package…” My friend was right. With Steve and my financial relationship, a breakup would undoubtedly cost me. I had already mentally prepared to give him the limited edition supercar and the riverside penthouse he’d coveted for so long. His infidelity, however, saved me a hefty sum. “But Eleanor, why did you suddenly want to break up? Wasn’t Steve exactly your type?” I pondered for a moment, deciding a small disclosure wouldn’t hurt. “Because I’m getting married.” “What?! Whose family? From Port Royale, or out of town?” I didn’t elaborate, merely stating, “You’ll all know soon enough.” 3. Despite the impending engagement to Evan Patton, the true heir, I hadn’t even met him yet. On my way to meet him, I happened upon my mother having afternoon tea on the ground floor. “How is Evan?” I asked. My mother set down her teacup and slowly looked up at me. “Don’t worry. He’s no less impressive than your previous acquaintance.” Her words sent a chill down my spine. Sure enough, my little secrets hadn’t escaped my mother’s notice. Fortunately, I had been diligent in my work all these years, so she had always pretended not to know. 4. We arranged to meet at an upscale French restaurant. At this hour, it wasn’t crowded. When I arrived precisely on time and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, my date was already seated there, gazing out, lost in thought. “Hello, Mr. Patton?” He turned. His deep-set eyes held a serene, distant quality, and his amber pupils reflected my somewhat hesitant smile. In the past two years, I had heard rumors about this true heir. They said Evan Patton was exceptionally intelligent, possessing unique insights into emerging trends, and had quickly taken over most of the Patton family’s businesses. However, he was also described as eccentric and aloof, perhaps scarred by his childhood experiences. It was strange, but he did bear a slight resemblance to Steve, though Steve’s refinement was born of lavish indulgence, while Evan’s was an almost ethereal elegance. “Yes. Miss Thorne, please have a seat.” His voice was both magnetic and clear, much like the overall impression he gave me – contradictory yet mysterious. We chatted for a long time, from adolescent anecdotes to travel experiences. It was then I learned that Evan hadn’t lived a difficult life before being recognized by the Patton family. He had always been raised in an intellectual household, with both parents as university professors at renowned institutions. At this point in the conversation, I didn’t inquire why he chose to return to the Patton family. Yet, sensing my hesitation, he abruptly changed the subject. “Miss Thorne, both our parents have agreed to this alliance, but you understand that, in essence…” “It’s an exchange and merger of interests. We probably don’t have the power to refuse.” I sat there, stunned. A sliver of sunset from the window fell near my eyes, but I didn’t look at it. I calmly replied, “And then what?” “So, my lawyer will contact yours to discuss the prenuptial agreement. And the division of assets under various circumstances after marriage, especially…” “What?” His amber eyes held a searching quality, a look I had seen many times at negotiation tables. It no longer surprised me. Sure enough, in the next second, he laid out his terms. “Miss Thorne, since we’re speaking frankly, I won’t hide it. I already know about your previous relationship with Steve.” I raised an eyebrow. If he had bothered to investigate Steve’s whereabouts over the past two years, he would have easily found out. So, I wasn’t surprised. “But that was your personal life before marriage, no right or wrong there. However, I need to secure my marriage. If either of us commits infidelity after marriage, they automatically forfeit all marital assets.” At his words, I smoothed my curled hair beside my ear, my expression now completely devoid of warmth. The day I was born into the Thorne family, I severed ties with any notion of innocence. I knew my marriage would inevitably be a tool, but I hadn’t expected everything to be laid bare. After all, leaving some room for pretense, my so-called husband and I could occasionally enjoy the illusion of intimacy. But clearly, the man before me didn’t think that way. His words even carried a hint of judgment about my private life. “Before we’re even married, you’re telling me you have no trust in me, Mr. Patton?” “Trust is too ephemeral a word. I prefer it in black and white.” My last hint of a smile vanished. “Fine. I agree.” With that, I picked up my bag, ready to leave the restaurant. There seemed no point in further small talk. But at that moment, the man spoke. “On the day of the engagement, I plan to invite my… formerly wayward brother. You don’t mind, do you, Eleanor Thorne?” He was, of course, referring to Steve. I figured the man was probably busy buttering up the Vance family at that moment. “As you wish.” My gaze returned, my voice cold. 5. The entire drive home, I was distracted. It wasn’t until I pulled into our family garage that the chill in the air brought my thoughts back. Going upstairs, I found Mother still on the sofa, engrossed in some documents. Seeing me return, she cast a fleeting glance. “The Patton family has sent over the detailed prenuptial agreement. You should take a look too.” I let out a dull sigh. “You just look at it.” Mother’s hand, holding the folder, paused. “What’s wrong? Come sit here.” I never defied Mother’s commands. After two seconds of hesitation, I walked over to sit beside her. Beneath the prenuptial agreement, there was also a collaboration proposal concerning an AI model in the information technology sector. “I’ve generally reviewed it; no issues. You go through it too.” I nodded, lowering my gaze to read. The moment I closed the folder, I couldn’t help but look despondently at the elegantly dressed woman beside me. She was actually very well-preserved, with few wrinkles at fifty, looking closer to her thirties. “Mom,” I began, “do I truly not even have a moment’s reprieve?” That post-nuptial agreement, just one clause, stipulated that my marriage to Evan Patton would be devoid of emotion, allowing for no buffer. Yet, many marriages in our circle, even without emotion, allowed for separate lives. This felt like a declaration that I was entering a cold, freedomless tomb. “Eleanor, you’ve had your fun all these years. It’s enough.” “But… never mind.” The words caught in my throat. I had wanted to ask Mother, even if I knew I had no choice, couldn’t she avoid stripping away reality so starkly and repeatedly declaring that my future would be bleak? But if I had asked, I knew I wouldn’t be understood. Mother would only find me naive and foolish. “This alliance with the Patton family is because times are changing too rapidly. Our Thorne family, though having significant influence in traditional industries, hasn’t fully entered the new sectors, and most of that in Port Royale is controlled by the Pattons.” “Eleanor, you must understand the purpose of this alliance: either to gain resources from the Patton’s information technology sector, or to leverage your identity as Mrs. Patton during the marriage to develop the Thorne family’s own segment. As for other matters, like that infidelity clause…” A flicker of disdain and coldness crossed Mother’s eyes. “It might seem like a question of your character, but who’s to say it isn’t…” “Them shooting themselves in the foot.” Mother patted my hand reassuringly, then thoughtfully rose and returned to her bedroom. On the empty floor, I stared at my toes, unable to collect myself. Mother’s words brought back Evan Patton’s moralizing demeanor. What was he so proud of? What did he mean by pretending to be a superior being to control me? Did he have no emotions? Could he guarantee he’d never slip up? Taking a deep breath, a faint competitive urge stirred within me. I stopped dwelling on what this alliance would bring me. The Thorne family was both my refuge and my honor. Now, it was my duty to do what was necessary for them.

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For a year, I endured the bullying of the school’s alpha, Lucas Rothwell. When my head was viciously held underwater in the grimy sink, his face would twist into a mask of savage satisfaction. I never understood why he targeted me. Until that day, when in my struggle, I tore the chain of his cherished pocket watch. The photo inside—a picture of my mother and him—revealed the truth. He was my older half-brother. The son my mother had, in her deepest disappointment, given up. He bullied me because he hated me. That night, returning home, I no longer hid my bruises. When my mother asked, her voice laced with concern, I burst into tears. “Mom, someone at school is bullying me. Will you stand up for me?” 1. Ding-a-ling— The sound of the dismissal bell sent a shiver through my body. The moment my teacher left the classroom, I snatched my backpack and bolted. But I was caught at the bottom of the academic building. A few slacker guys saw me, their eyes lighting up. “Lucas was right! The little wretch was trying to run!” I was trembling all over, instinctively turning to escape. But as I spun, a strong hand grabbed my collar. I caught a faint scent of cigarette smoke from him… It was Lucas. The ringleader of the year-long torment I’d endured. This is it, a wave of despair washed over me. Soon, I was dragged between them, up to the top floor. This floor had no classrooms, only an abandoned restroom. This was their “sanctuary,” where they terrorized me with impunity. I never understood why, out of so many students, Lucas had singled me out. This secondary school had both a middle school and a high school section. I was just starting seventh grade, while he was already a junior. I couldn’t fathom why someone as ordinary as me could evoke such intense hatred in him. From the very first day I enrolled, he had appeared in my line of sight. He just stood there, outside my classroom, watching me with eyes like a viper, fixed on its delectable prey… When he bullied me, his face would sometimes contort into a grimace of twisted pleasure. Bang— I was shoved violently into the restroom. My body slammed against the dilapidated door, my arm aching. “Didn’t we tell you to come up here on your own after school?” A boy raised his hand and slapped the back of my head. “What the hell are you running for?” Seeing my silence, he slapped my face again. These were Lucas’s hangers-on, his “enforcers.” I clenched my fists, struggling to speak. “Today is my mom’s birthday. I want to go home and celebrate with her.” I was so terrified that I didn’t notice Lucas, who had been leaning against the wall with an impassive face, suddenly darken at my words. He strode over quickly, roughly pushing aside the boy in front of me. Lucas was tall and strong. He grabbed my collar, forcing me to stand on tiptoes to look at him. “What do you think you are…?” Lucas gritted his teeth, his eyes twitching slightly, his breathing unsteady, as if he was struggling to contain something. Before I could grasp the reason for his sudden outburst, he hauled me to the sink. The water in the basin was filthy and foul, probably unchanged for centuries. Lucas, without the slightest hesitation, slammed my head into the water. A suffocating sensation overwhelmed me, and I thrashed wildly. I had a terrifying feeling Lucas truly wanted to kill me… Why? My hands flailed incessantly, trying to grasp anything I could. In my struggle, my hand caught on Lucas’s clothes, my fingers snagging the chain around his neck. “You little bitch! Let go!” Someone pulled my hands away, but the chain snapped, too. The metallic clink echoed as it hit the ground. Lucas seemed to snap out of a trance, abruptly letting go. Exhausted, I collapsed to the floor, gasping for fresh air. When I came to my senses, I saw Lucas, uncharacteristically, scrambling on the ground, searching for something. His expression was panicked, his hands even trembling slightly. “Where is it? Where is it?!” he roared. “Find it for me, damn it!” His stunned cronies quickly snapped to attention and began searching on the floor. Watching their unusual behavior, my fingers curled slightly, accidentally brushing against something. I glanced down. It was a delicate pocket watch, broken open. Inside, was an old, somewhat blurry photograph. But my pupils dilated in shock, because I recognized the person in the picture. My mom… Before I could get a closer look, Lucas snatched the watch. He held it carefully, rubbing it repeatedly with his designer clothes, treating it like a precious treasure. “It’s broken, the watch is broken,” he mumbled, almost obsessively, then turned and quickly walked out. “Lucas,” a boy asked uncertainly, “what about this wretch?” “Whatever!” Lucas was fixated on the watch. “I need to get this watch fixed. Don’t bother me unless it’s urgent!” 2. Thanks to that pocket watch, I had a rare chance to go home early today. A cold wind blew on the way home. My clothes were already half-wet, and now the chill felt biting. But I barely noticed it, my mind a chaotic mess. The moment I closed my eyes, I could see that photo in the pocket watch again. The gentle, beautiful woman was my mother, in her younger days. So, who was the little boy she was holding? Was it Lucas? What was their relationship? I’d always known my mom had been divorced once before and had another child. I was the child she had with my father after their remarriage. My parents had never hidden this from me. But I couldn’t connect Lucas with my mother’s previous child… But if Lucas really was my older half-brother, then all my questions finally had answers. Why he targeted me, bullied me… Because he was abandoned by our mother, so he hated me. Why did he threaten me after bullying me, telling me not to tell anyone at home? He also said his family was powerful and could easily shut down my mother’s flower shop… Because he was afraid. Afraid I would tell Mom. He was afraid Mom would find out he was bullying me! The more I thought, the more startled I became, my heart thumping uncontrollably fast. I started to run, the cold wind sharpening my thoughts. I had to ask Mom to confirm! What was usually a twenty-minute walk, I ran in ten. My mom looked surprised when I returned. “Home so early today?” Every day, Lucas bullied me, and to keep my mom from worrying, I’d lied, saying I was studying late at school. To prevent her from noticing anything, I always pulled down my long sleeves to hide the bruises on my arms before coming home. Mom, wearing an apron, came out of the kitchen and smiled at me. “Go wash your hands quickly, dinner will be ready soon.” Her gaze lingered on my hair for a moment. “Why are your hair and clothes a bit wet?” “I… an old lady spilled water on the sidewalk and accidentally splashed me.” “Then go take a bath quickly, don’t catch a cold.” I nodded, dropped my backpack, and went to my bedroom to get a change of clothes for a shower. When I came out, Mom had already finished dinner. Dad was away on a business trip and wouldn’t be home for a while. I sat at the dining table, looking at my mom’s gentle face, and hesitated before speaking. “Mom, I have a question for you.” Mom placed a chicken leg in my bowl. “Eat while it’s hot. What’s the question?” I deliberated for a moment, then asked, “Mom, do I have an older brother? What’s his name?” Mom’s hand, holding her chopsticks, paused, and the smile on her face stiffened slightly. “Why are you suddenly asking that?” “Just… a little curious.” Mom remained silent for a long time, barely eating any of her meal. I suddenly regretted it. I shouldn’t have asked, Mom suddenly looked so unhappy. But after dinner, Mom called me into her room. She handed me a photograph. “His name is Lucas Rothwell. He’s my first child.” I took the photo, my hands trembling slightly. This photo was identical to the one in Lucas’s pocket watch. 3. Eleanor Hayes hadn’t thought about that child in a long time. After all, she had long since acted as if she had never given birth to him. If her daughter hadn’t brought it up today, she might not have recalled him for a long time, nor would she have thought about her first failed marriage. She should have cut her losses when her husband started staying out all night. But her repeated concessions allowed that man to test her boundaries again and again. He began to smell of other women’s perfume. He would brazenly take his lovers on trips, claiming to be away on business. Eleanor was heartbroken. She believed that even if her husband betrayed her, the son she had given half her life to bear would always be on her side. But she was wrong. Despite showering Lucas with boundless patience and tenderness, giving him all the love she could, Lucas ultimately disappointed her. She heard little Lucas holding that woman’s hand and calling her “Mom.” He said his mother was messy and annoying, always nagging him, and that he wished he had a pretty, gentle lady for a mom instead. From that moment, Eleanor understood: Lucas was just like his father, an ungrateful wretch through and through. She was utterly disillusioned with this family. During the divorce proceedings, Eleanor relinquished custody of Lucas, striving to secure the best possible settlement for herself. She even remembered the reactions of the man and the little boy when she moved out of the Rothwell home. The older one was relieved. The younger one was ecstatic. “Yes! I can get a new mom! This is great!” Each cheer was like a thorn, piercing Eleanor’s heart. And like a knife, it severed the last shred of attachment she felt for that son. 4. After listening to Mom, I gently placed the photo on the table. “Mom.” I tugged at her hand. When she looked over, I slowly rolled up my sleeve, revealing the large and small bruises on my arm. “What is this?!” Mom grabbed my hand, her voice changing. “Did someone hit you?” I swallowed my tears and nodded slowly. “Mom, someone at school is bullying me. Can you come to school tomorrow and stand up for me?” … The next morning, when I arrived at school, my desk partner silently moved her desk away from mine. My own desk was overturned on the floor, its contents spilled out, covered in dirty footprints. I quietly righted my desk and glanced around. My classmates pointedly avoided my gaze. They were isolating me. Or perhaps, they were afraid of being associated with me and facing Lucas’s retaliation. During the break after the first period, a classmate I was fairly close with finally couldn’t hold back and followed me to the restroom. “Chloe Thorne, how did you get Lucas Rothwell so angry?” “I heard you broke his favorite possession, is that true?” “Is he just looking for an excuse to bully you?” My silence was taken as an affirmation. “That’s terrible!” At fourteen, the age of bursting righteousness, she frowned. “Why don’t you go to the teachers?” I paused. Teachers? Why hadn’t I? Either they would dismiss it as typical childish squabbling, vaguely pacifying me before sending me away. Or, upon hearing that Lucas was the aggressor, the teachers would pass the buck like a hot potato. After all, our school had an entire laboratory building sponsored by the Rothwell family. Anything involving Lucas was a hot potato to them. No one was willing to deal with it. Or rather, no one dared to. In the evening, after school, Lucas and his cronies cornered me again. His face was dark, and he seemed to be in a very bad mood. I noticed he wasn’t wearing anything around his neck. Had the pocket watch not been repaired? So, was he here to punish me today? My righteous classmate was, after all, still a child. Faced with boys several years older than us, she too felt afraid. She stood at the corner of the hallway, watching me being led upstairs. She hesitated for a long time but ultimately didn’t take a step. She squatted there, frustrated, running her hands through her hair. Suddenly, a pair of high heels appeared before her. She looked up. It was a beautiful, gentle lady. “Hello, student. Are you in class 7B? Have you seen my Chloe Thorne? I’m here to pick her up.” 5. Lucas pushed me into the abandoned restroom. I tripped over a broken mop handle near the door and fell directly to the ground. My face scraped against some stacked tiles in the corner of the restroom, and a sharp sting immediately flared. I propped myself up, feeling a warm trickle on my face. My hands trembled, afraid to touch it. Lucas’s reaction, however, was even more intense than mine. He knelt down, looking at my face, visibly panicked. “You cut your face…” He had always avoided my face when he bullied me. “You know what to say when you get home, right? Huh?” Lucas gripped my shoulders tightly, his voice laced with urgency. “Speak!” “You can only say you fell! Do you hear me?!” I ignored his sudden outburst. I just stared blankly, looking towards the door. Because of this unexpected incident, Lucas’s hangers-on were all crowded at the doorway, peering in. None of them had noticed when another person had appeared outside the door. I looked at my mother, who was so shocked she hadn’t spoken for a long time, and called out in a trembling voice. “Mom, it hurts…” “Chloe!!” I never thought someone as slender as my mother could unleash such powerful force. She pushed aside the boys blocking her path, rushing straight in, and pulled me into her embrace. “Mommy’s here! Don’t be scared, Chloe! Mommy’s here to stand up for you.” She carefully checked the wound on my face, her eyes red. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have come earlier.” She had planned to come earlier that morning, but I had stopped her. It was the grand opening of her flower shop branch today, a very important event. So, I had only asked her to pick me up after school that evening… I huddled in Mom’s arms, looking at Lucas, who was now utterly stunned. Mom also snapped out of her shock. She angrily turned, her gaze fixed on Lucas. The moment their eyes met, Lucas almost frantically looked away. Mom, too, unconsciously frowned. She found the despicable teenager before her somewhat familiar. Lucas felt incredibly tormented under her scrutinizing gaze. He turned, about to leave, but Mom stood up and grabbed his shirt. “Where do you think you’re going?! My daughter is beaten up like this, and you just think you can walk away?” … Lucas looked at the woman before him, his mother, who seemed almost unchanged from his memories. He parted his lips slightly, wanting to say something, but ultimately, no words came out. In his memory, his mother had once stood up for him with such fierce determination. He was small then, only five years old. Mom had taken him to the playground, and he was pushed down by an older child. Mom picked him up, patiently comforting him. Then, she marched angrily to confront the child and their parents. He clung to his mother’s neck, his frightened soul finding solace in that moment. He felt Mom was like a brave warrior. She seemed invulnerable and would never let him get hurt. But in the end, the person who hurt Mom the most was himself. He was swayed by the beautiful woman who often took him out to play. She told him that his mother, who fiercely fought for his interests, wasn’t gentle or elegant, and would embarrass him. She said his mother, who only knew how to bathe and cook at home, was incompetent and useless. The beautiful woman also said that a mother who truly cared for him wouldn’t hit or scold him, but would give him lots of candy and fulfill all his childish wishes. Little Lucas believed her. He thought that this beautiful woman, right before him, was the best mother in the world. He didn’t understand anything back then. So, he didn’t understand why Mom looked so disappointed and sad when she left that house. He also didn’t understand why the beautiful woman completely changed once she became his mother. He thought his mom would come back. But it was only now that Lucas finally realized. His mother wasn’t coming back. His mother had another child. His mother was even standing in front of him, and she didn’t recognize him.

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We plunged into a Cursed-tier instance, a death trap, the system blaring warnings: “All player survival rates immediately reduced to zero!” My teammates shrieked, scattering in terror as malevolent spirits hunted them down. Only I found myself cornered by the unspeakable instance BOSS. Icy tentacles coiled around my ankles, and in my ears, the system’s alarms went haywire, glitching and breaking: [Warning! BOSS detected with abnormal emotional fluctuations! Warning! BOSS is… attempting to court the player?!] My blood ran cold. So, I looked at the creature before me, reeking of blood. Trembling… I kissed him. 1. The moment my eyes opened, a bone-chilling cold crawled up my spine. Even though I was wrapped up like a mummy, that icy dread pierced my bones like needles. My name is Elara Zahn, a frail individual suffering from “hyperalgesia” and “extreme cold sensitivity.” In this deadly infinite game, players with an F-rating for physical fitness like me are usually labeled “disposable consumables.” “Rookie?” a gruff voice boomed beside me. “Stop playing dead. Get up and work.” The speaker was a man with a scarred face, known as Randal. He was a veteran player, holding a blood-stained machete, looking at me as if I were already dead. This was a Chinese horror instance called Spirit Wedding. White lanterns hung everywhere in the courtyard, and crimson wedding characters adorned a coffin. The wind scattered paper money through the air. The system’s task was simple: survive three days as a guest and attend the final wedding. “This instance is a B-rank difficulty. You’ll live as long as you don’t do anything stupid.” Randal pointed to the tightly shut East Wing in the distance. “But someone has to scout ahead. Hey, you, the sickly one. You go.” I coughed twice, my face pale. “That’s forbidden territory.” The rules clearly stated the East Wing was the bridal chamber, off-limits to guests. Randal sneered, abruptly shoving me. “Just go when I tell you! In this team, a useless person needs to know their place. Either you go scout, or I’ll cut you down right now.” I stumbled a few steps, pushing open the rickety wooden door of the East Wing. Behind me, Randal and the other players jeered. Then, with a bang, the door locked itself behind me. 2. Inside, there was no musty smell as I’d expected. Instead, a strong scent of blood permeated the air. A grand, intricately carved bed stood in the center, its red canopy hanging low. Before I could even observe my surroundings, my heart clenched. Cold. Ten times colder than outside. My constitution made me extremely sensitive to temperature. This cold wasn’t just a drop in temperature; it was the precursor to a terrifying presence. My health bar began to deplete at a visible rate. [Health -10… -10…] If I didn’t find a heat source soon, I’d freeze to death before any ghost could kill me. “Creak—” The red canopy by the bed suddenly swayed open. A tall figure stood there, unnoticed until now. He was dressed in an elaborate, dark red wedding robe, wearing a grotesque bronze mask that left his pale jaw exposed. It was the BOSS. The Ghost Groom had appeared early, before the wedding night. The powerful sense of oppression made my knees weak, but I didn’t kneel. My instinct for survival made me stare intently at him. In my vision, he wasn’t a vengeful spirit claiming lives, but the only “heat source” in this ice-cold room. He raised his hand, his sharp, black fingernails pointing directly at my heart. Too fast. I couldn’t dodge. 3. A death trap. The instant his fingertips brushed the fabric over my chest, the cold nearly froze my blood. Perhaps I was insane. In the second before death arrived, instead of retreating, I threw myself forward with all my might. “Thud.” The sound of claws tearing skin didn’t come. I collided with a hard, cold embrace. Although cold, it was a surging power. The Ghost Groom seemed not to have expected my embrace, his movements stiffening for a moment. In that instant, I seized my chance. My hands trembling, I clung to his shoulders, tilting my head back. Along the lower edge of his cold bronze mask, I accurately found his lips. The moment my lips met his, it was like kissing a millennia-old block of ice. But I felt it. That violent, malevolent energy that had been poised to tear me apart suddenly halted. “Save me…” My voice, pressed against his lips, was as soft as a cat’s mew, laced with the tremulousness born of pain. “So cold…” This was a gamble. My unique constitution: a “divine lure.” In the real world, even stray dogs would inexplicably follow me home. If this ability worked on monsters, too… The system panel flashed wildly with red light. [Warning! BOSS logic detected as confused!] [Warning! Hatred value judgment failed…] [Warning! Affection system forcibly initiated…] 4. Time seemed to stand still. My waist suddenly tightened. It wasn’t a human arm, but something slick and tough, like a shadow. It squeezed my waist relentlessly, with such force it felt like he was trying to meld me into his own body. Pain. But I endured. I even softened my body obediently, burying my face in the crook of his neck. A sigh of satisfaction echoed above my head. It was the pleasure of a beast before a meal. “Found you…” a hoarse, low voice rumbled. The next second, the world spun. I was thrown onto the soft, grand bed. But the anticipated tearing and biting didn’t happen. Instead, a black mist gently enveloped me. The biting cold disappeared, replaced by a warm, cozy comfort. After an unknown period, the door opened. I adjusted my disheveled collar and pushed the door open to step out. Outside, Randal was leading his group, ready to collect my body and loot me. Seeing me emerge perfectly intact, he dropped the cigarette he was holding, startled. “You… you’re not dead?” Randal’s eyes widened, as if he’d seen a ghost. I ignored him, simply opening my palm. There lay a blood-red jade pendant, engraved with an ancient character for malevolence. The Ghost Groom had slipped it to me just now. Or rather, it was his “mark” left on me. 5. After emerging from the East Wing, the instance took a strange turn. The wandering spirits and specters that had been drifting in the courtyard now, upon seeing me, all cowered terrified against the walls, trembling. Wherever I walked, a path opened up automatically, as if Moses were parting the Red Sea. My body also felt off. The back of my neck always felt chilly, as if something was constantly wrapped around it. Even when I looked in the mirror, I could only see a pale patch of skin with a red bruise, like a hickey, or some kind of totem. The coldness of the jade pendant in my palm seeped into my bones, yet I felt a strange sense of… safety? This realization sent a jolt through my stomach. I had just kissed a monster, using an almost bewitching method to survive. Even more terrifying, I had, in that moment, tasted the power of control. I was using him. What about him? Was he truly momentarily confused, or was he playing along, enjoying the willing sacrifice of his prey? This thought plunged me into an ice-cold abyss, yet I also felt a faint thrill. This was a gamble, dancing with a devil. And I, it seemed, was born to stand at the center of the dance floor. By the second night, Randal finally couldn’t sit still any longer. He stared at the jade pendant in my hand, his greed overcoming his fear. “This kid must have made a deal with a ghost!” Randal incited the other players. “He’s radiating so much sinister energy; he might already be possessed.” “According to the rules, we must guard against ghosts, but also against ‘traitors’!” The other rookie players, already terrified, echoed his sentiment. “So what do we do?” “A vote.” Randal grinned sinisterly. “The system has a hidden mechanism: if more than half of the players vote someone to be an anomaly, they can summon a ‘Ghost Catcher’ to execute them.” 6. The vote took place in the ancestral hall. Five people, four votes cast against me. “Elara, don’t blame me for being ruthless,” Randal said, holding the ballot, his face radiating self-righteousness. “For everyone to survive, you must be sacrificed.” Randal stared at the increasingly prominent red mark on my neck, an unconcealable fear deep in his eyes. He had been through too many instances; he knew that those marked by a BOSS either became puppets or attracted an even more terrifying catastrophe. He didn’t want to gamble. Randal’s voice rose, both to persuade others and himself. “Voting to eliminate you isn’t to harm someone; it’s for purification!” “For all of us to live cleanly!” See? Once malice dons the cloak of “the greater good” and “purification,” it becomes self-justifying. As the vote took effect, the temperature in the ancestral hall plummeted. A three-meter tall Ghost Catcher, with a green face and tusks, emerged, dragging a soul-chain. It was an enforcer of the rules, an invincible NPC. Randal retreated triumphantly, waiting to see my soul dragged away by the soul-chain. I stood my ground, unmoving. I even felt a little like laughing. The Ghost Catcher menacingly charged towards me, raising its soul-chain. However, just as the iron chain was about to touch me, it stopped. Its murky eyes stared intently behind me, as if seeing something utterly terrifying. Its massive body began to tremble violently. “Clang.” The soul-chain dropped to the ground. 7. “What’s going on? Move!” Randal shouted, agitated. Behind me, there was no light, but my shadow, cast by the candlelight, stretched incredibly long. The shadow writhed, rising from the ground, transforming into a massive, indescribable black mist. From within the black mist, several inky tendrils slowly extended, resting on the Ghost Catcher’s shoulders. There was no sound. The once arrogant Ghost Catcher, as if erased by an eraser, was instantly swallowed by the black mist, without even a scream. A deathly silence fell over the ancestral hall. The black mist dissipated, and no monster appeared. But I felt it. The unseen presence stood directly behind me, its cold chin resting lightly on my shoulder, as if declaring its ownership to everyone. I bent down, picked up the soul-chain from the ground, and looked at Randal, who had collapsed onto the floor. A faint flush colored my pale face from the excitement. I smiled, my voice gentle. “It seems he listens to me more than to your so-called rules.” 8. After that night, no one dared to speak to me again. I was assigned the best room to rest in. Deep into the quiet night, I lay on the bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. Because I knew, the “bill” was due. The window wasn’t closed, yet the candle in the room suddenly extinguished. In the darkness, that familiar, clammy, cold sensation once again wrapped around my ankle. It was invisible, yet tangible. Unlike its protective presence during the day, it was now filled with aggression. It was the greed to utterly consume its prey. Unseen tentacles coiled around my wrists, pinning me against the headboard. “Today… I was very obedient.” In the darkness, that hoarse voice spoke again. This time it was beside my ear, carrying a moist breath. “I helped you.” Due to my sensitive skin, even slight pressure would leave red marks. My wrists were already beginning to throb faintly. “So?” I asked softly, trying not to tremble. “I want… payment.” The words had barely left his lips when a cold sensation covered me. It wasn’t a conventional kiss; it was more like tasting. It was inspecting every inch of my skin, checking if I carried anyone else’s scent. The shivering sensation of being completely controlled by a non-human entity almost suffocated me. I knew this instance was no longer just a survival game. I had provoked a madman. A malevolent deity who treated a horror game like a dating simulation.

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1. It was the third year since I’d severed ties with my parents, and they took me to court. They demanded I pay thirty years of future alimony. They sued me not because they lacked money, but because they wanted to give their adopted son, newly entered into a law firm, a chance to make a name for himself. They knew my health was poor. Because my right kidney had been personally removed by my father, the hospital director, and given to their adopted son. They knew my reputation was in tatters. Because my mother, the lawyer, had set a trap for me to take the fall for their adopted son and go to prison. Yet they still did it. Because one had to avoid suspicion, and the other had to repay a debt. The court ultimately ordered me to immediately pay three hundred thousand dollars. Because that was all the money I had left for a life-saving procedure. Outside the courthouse, my parents held their chins high and declared: “Son, as long as you are in this world, you will never escape your parents.” I thought they were absolutely right. So when the system approached me, stating I had late-stage kidney cancer and no money for treatment, asking if I was willing to go to another world, I immediately agreed. … The first time the system appeared, I was desperately trying to save money for a kidney transplant. I hauled bricks on construction sites by day, worked all night on assembly lines, and delivered food on holidays. Though it was tough, the money accumulated quickly. So, I refused to leave. I chose this world, a world with hope, a world I cared about. But when I finally saved enough money and traveled to another city for the transplant, the police brought me to court instead. Now, the kidney source was gone, and my money was gone too. My loved ones had personally destroyed my hope. The cold wind outside the courthouse hit me, and I shivered, trembling as I asked the system: “Do your previous words still count? If my body dies, I can go to another world?” After receiving an affirmative reply, I looked around for an opportunity. Just then, a thermos pressed against my hand. “Drink some.” I didn’t respond, trying to walk past. My mother grabbed my wrist. I looked down at her pale fingers. It was strange; the embrace that once filled me with longing now only felt like a foreign object on my skin. Uncomfortable. “Let go,” I said. She didn’t, instead stepping closer. “I said, let go.” I used a little force to pull my hand free. Then I wiped the spot she had touched on her expensive cashmere coat. She froze, as if she couldn’t believe I would make such a blunt gesture. As I was about to leave, laughter drifted from nearby. I looked up to see my father laughing as he embraced my adopted brother, Arthur Stone, guiding him into a car, without a single glance at me. Arthur held the lid of a thermos. I looked down, and sure enough, Arthur’s name was engraved on the thermos itself. She was using someone else’s possession again, offering cheap concern. I slammed the thermos to the ground. Actually, when the verdict came down, I wanted to tell them: “I have kidney cancer! That three hundred thousand is my life savings!” I wanted to see if they would show any emotion. But before I could get close, the wind carried their conversation to me. “…This three hundred thousand is just right. Isn’t that the dowry Evelyn wants?” “Arthur, don’t worry, Mom and Dad will definitely help you marry Evelyn properly.” Evelyn. That name stabbed my heart like a knife. My girlfriend of ten years, being married to Arthur with my life-saving money, arranged by my parents. The words that were on the tip of my tongue, along with a metallic taste, were swallowed down fiercely. Now, I was grateful I hadn’t confronted them. How ridiculous, what kind of impulse was that? Staring at the dented thermos, my mother’s jawline tightened. “Are you done making a scene? Come home with me. You’ve been wild for three years, it’s time to settle down.” I looked at her. Once, that expression and tone would send a chill down my spine, making me immediately comply. Now, I just found it like a villain’s lines in a cheesy TV show. I even gave a soft laugh: “Mom, if you care about me so much, aren’t you afraid Arthur will get jealous? Last time you cared about my law exam, he got jealous, sped, and hit someone, and you threw me at the scene to take the blame.” “This time, what do you want me to do?” Since childhood, she had always favored Arthur countless times, simply because Arthur’s parents had died saving her. But I never expected her to send me to prison to take the blame for Arthur. She avoided my gaze, her lips moving. “Let’s not talk about the past… You know, his parents had a debt of gratitude to me…” “Come home, I’ll cook for you myself to make it up.” My eyes turned completely cold as I stared into hers: “Your cooking, I wouldn’t dare to eat.” “Last time I ate it, I lost my right kidney.” Her body swayed, and she instinctively reached out to pull me. I retreated quickly. The day I got out of prison, I was still in the dark, unaware that my own parents had drugged me and left me at the scene to take the blame. She had specially cooked, saying it was a welcome home meal. I was naive and guilty then, thinking I had finally found warmth from my family. I took the soup she offered, touched, and drank it. When I woke up, I was in the hospital, my abdomen in severe pain. My right kidney was gone. From the VIP room separated by a wall, their laughter drifted. My father kept reassuring Arthur: “Don’t worry about the legality of the kidney source. I already arranged a voluntary donation form.” “Outsiders will only be touched, saying I, the director, am selfless, willing to give up my own son’s kidney to save my adopted son.” I wanted to rush over and confront them, but the pain made me roll off the bed, curling up on the floor. My mother came from the next room, coincidentally seeing me. Her steps only faltered for a second, her gaze complex as she avoided mine. The woman before me, why was she holding onto me now? “Alan, at that time Arthur was almost… gone…” “Enough!” I was tired of that explanation. Every time they sacrificed me, it was always the same logic: “no choice,” “he’s more pitiful.” I no longer looked at her, only asking the system in my mind: “System, if I go to another world, can I have parents who truly love me?” Receiving an affirmative answer, I quickly walked towards the road outside the courthouse. My mother stepped forward, grabbing my arm. “Alan! What are you doing now?!” I shook her off forcefully, rushing without hesitation towards an approaching truck. “Alan!!” 2. I ran with all my might, closing my eyes and yearning for a new beginning. Amidst the screeching of tires, a force pulled me away. I fell into an embrace, then was firmly pressed to the ground. Opening my eyes, the truck stopped precisely where I had been moments before. I hadn’t died. Frustration simmered in my heart. My mother’s arm was wrapped around me, her hands feeling me up and down. “Alan! Are you alright?! Where are you hurt?! Speak to me!” I lay sprawled on the ground, not wanting to say a word. But she suddenly gripped my collar tightly. “Alan! What were you trying to do?!” Her voice was sharp, a mix of fear and anger. “Threatening your parents with suicide? Do you think that will drive Arthur away and get you what you want?” “I’m telling you, it’s impossible!” I looked at her flushed, agitated face and just felt weary. In her eyes, everything I did was to compete with Arthur. I was too tired to explain and tried to pry her hands off again. “Let go.” “Look at me!” She held her bleeding elbow in front of my eyes, her voice trembling. “I injured myself like this pulling you back! Don’t you feel anything?” “Alan, where is your heart?” She was resorting to emotional blackmail again. She used to love doing this. Always talking about how hard she worked for money, how difficult it was to struggle among men. I would always soften and obey, swallowing all my grieKamines, silently accepting their favoritism towards Arthur. But now, looking at her bleeding elbow, my heart was a dead calm. I even swatted her hand away with disgust. “Your blood, you’ve stained my clothes.” She froze, looking at me with a deeply hurt expression. I couldn’t help but scoff. What did she have to be hurt about? All these years, when she turned a blind eye to the harm she inflicted on me, where was her heart? Now that I was merely retaliating, why couldn’t she bear it? I pushed her away and got up, patting the collar where she had touched me. “Don’t follow me. We have no relationship.” “No relationship?!” She stumbled to her feet. “Alan! I’m your mother!” I stopped, a faint, bitter smile touching my lips. “Didn’t you publicly disown me already? What, do you forget things easily?” That was at Arthur’s kidney transplant recovery banquet. Arthur, a bit drunk, raised his glass to thank me. In his drunken ramblings, he revealed that after the accident, my mother had drugged me and left me at the scene to take the blame. I served five years in prison; a top law graduate from an elite university reduced to a convict. I completely broke down and confronted them. But she, without batting an eye, told everyone that my mental state had deteriorated after prison. In that moment, all my suppressed grieKamines and anger erupted. I overturned tables, shouting hoarsely about how she had always favored Arthur since childhood, how she had sacrificed me. Losing face in front of everyone, she pointed at me and coldly said: “Fine! Since you hate me so much, I’ll pretend I never gave birth to you!” “From now on, whether you, Alan, live or die, it has nothing to do with us!” The words of disownment were spoken by her own mouth. I looked at her, now furious, and said, word by word: “Since we’re disowned, what right do you have to care whether I live or die?” 3. With that, I turned and walked away. A long silence followed behind me, then her voice sounded again: “No matter what, you are my only son! You are a Thorne heir!” “Am I?” I sneered. Her body trembled, as if she had just realized that the nominal heir of the Thorne family was Arthur. It was she who had personally brought Arthur into her law firm, publicly confirming his identity. And I, the true heir, was merely a disgraced ex-convict. My laughter grew louder, but tears, without warning, streamed down my face. I, too, once couldn’t understand. How did the parents who held me on their laps to teach me letters, who were so proud of me, turn into strangers so fiercely protective of an outsider? After countless sleepless nights, I finally understood: one of them was a fanatic, willing to use the entire family to repay a debt of gratitude. The other was a hypocrite, willing to sacrifice everything to preserve his reputation as a director. Before gratitude and reputation, I would always come last. She pulled me into the car without a word, her head lowered. “Alan, stop making trouble. Today is Arthur and Evelyn’s wedding. Just come with Mom for now.” “After Arthur gets married, Mom will have repaid her debt, and then I’ll make it up to you properly.” I had heard such words since childhood. “When your brother’s competition is over, Mom will take you to the amusement park.” “When Arthur gets into college, Mom will definitely make it up to you properly.” Every promise was like a bubble, bursting at a touch. I tried to break free, but the kidney cancer flared up. I was too weak from the pain and was dragged into the car. The car was filled with the smell of blood. Her arm kept bleeding, and cold sweat beaded on her forehead. But she gripped my wrist tightly, afraid I would run again. “Let go.” My voice was calm and even. But she clutched tighter, her nails almost digging into my flesh. “Alan, you don’t need to compete with Arthur… haven’t you always wanted to be a lawyer? You can join my law firm.” I twitched my lips, forcing a cold, emotionless smile: “What about Arthur? Didn’t he already join your law firm?” Her grip on my hand loosened for a second: “Arthur… after all, he’s called me ‘Mom’ for so many years. The law firm… will definitely be handed over to him in the future.” She paused, then lowered her voice: “…You have a criminal record; independent practice is impossible. If you follow Arthur, work as his assistant, you can still use the firm’s resources.” “Brothers working together, that’s how the family business stays stable. You should understand that now.” I leaned against the car window, the kidney cancer pain coming in waves. But clearer than the pain was an absurd nausea. They used my kidney to save Arthur, used my future to cover Arthur’s crime. Now, they even wanted to use my life to be Arthur’s stepping stone. Dream on! I grabbed the handbrake and pulled it up sharply! “Alan! Are you crazy?!” The wheels locked instantly, and the car spun wildly, tailing out of control! Finally, with a “bang,” it slammed into the concrete barrier. Violent tremors shook my entire body; the world spun. I had deliberately not buckled my seatbelt, anticipating death. But the airbags absorbed most of the impact. After the dizziness and pain, my consciousness was still clear. I immediately reached for the car door. Outside was a stream of fast-moving traffic; there was still a chance! “Alan!!” My mother lunged at me, gripping my arm tightly. “Do you hate me that much?!” Her eyes were red-rimmed, her voice hoarse. “Hate me so much… you want to drag me with you to die?!” I shrugged indifferently, pulling at the corner of my mouth: “Hate? Not worth it. I just want to take a different path. You insisted on following, so the consequences are yours.” Instantly, the color drained from her face. But she still held me tightly, half-dragging, half-pulling me into a taxi. We arrived at the wedding venue.

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The day I decided to finally pursue Alaric Newlywed, he confessed his feelings for me. Yet, the affection meter above his head clearly read ‘0’. After we became official, he adored me beyond measure. On our sixth anniversary, he proposed publicly. Tears welling in my eyes, I was about to say yes, when a stream of comments scrolled across my vision: 【Poor secondary lead, pretending for six years with this villainess just to protect the heroine!】 【This stand-in is really into the role, LOL!】 My blood ran cold. No wonder the number hadn’t changed in six years. Simultaneously, a chilling system alert exploded in my mind: “Final stage activated. Countdown to pursuit: Ten days.” “Failure will result in your complete erasure.” I smiled, pulling my hand back from his outstretched ring, wiping away my tears. “Sorry, this game? I’m bored of it.” 1 The comments were still scrolling: 【Woah, the villainess’s eyes just changed?】 【About time she realized, the secondary lead only cares about the heroine.】 【Waiting for her to snap and go crazy—】 Snap? No. I just suddenly remembered so many little things. He never allowed me to meet anyone alone, claiming he “feared I’d make bad company.” He always gently interrupted me when I mentioned my career, saying, “I’ll take care of you, darling.” It wasn’t affection. It was a cage. I wandered back to the villa, throwing things into a suitcase mechanically. Passing his study, the comments suddenly surged: 【Look at the computer!】 【Oh no, if she sees the chat history…】 【Danger! Heroine protection mode initiated!】 A crisp notification chime echoed from the study. I pushed the door open. The screen was lit, displaying a chat window between Alaric Newlywed and the main lead, Julian Vance. The latest message was from Alaric: “She suddenly rejected the proposal. Keep Elara safe these next few days. Don’t let Rowan Archer get near her.” Julian replied quickly: “Don’t worry. It’s been tough on you all these years.” I laughed out loud. How utterly ridiculous. Because of me, two sworn rivals, now united in purpose. I scrolled up. The chat logs were like a blunt knife, slowly, deliberately slicing through my flesh. Julian: “I remember, in the original story, Rowan Archer didn’t just ruin Elara’s face, she also hired someone to disgrace her.” “It must be agonizing to share a bed with that venomous witch every night.” Alaric: “As long as Elara is safe, none of it matters.” Julian: “She seems to be falling deeper in love with you. If she finds out the truth, won’t she go even crazier?” Alaric: “She won’t find out.” “If she does, and dares to touch Elara—” “I’ll break her limbs, send her to a mental asylum, and keep her locked up for life!” The last sentence had an exclamation mark. I stared at the screen, my fingertips icy. The comments section erupted: 【”It’s all worth it”… the secondary lead is so in love! You know who I’m talking about!】 【Am I the only one who finds this conversation chilling? To manipulate someone for six years, just for the heroine?】 【Come on, that’s the villainess! He’s doing everyone a favor and protecting his true love, it’s a win-win!】 【Look at the villainess’s expression… is she about to snap?】 【Villainess, stop it and run!】 Run? I looked down at my slender wrists. Yes, I had to run. As I dragged my suitcase out, the night was in full swing. I stood by the roadside, unsure where to go. The comments were anxious for me: 【Is she really leaving?】 【Go! Don’t hold back our secondary lead and heroine’s sweet moments!】 【Wait… is that the secondary lead’s car in the distance?!】 Headlights pierced the darkness, and a familiar black sedan screeched to a halt beside me. Alaric got out, his shirt slightly rumpled, his breathing ragged, his face displaying a perfectly calibrated mix of panic and sorrow: “Rowan, I’m sorry, I was too hasty… I thought you’d be happy.” He reached out, trying to take my hand, his eyes red-rimmed. “Don’t go. Let’s talk this over, okay?” In the past, I would have melted completely. But now, I could only recall the chat log’s chilling promise: “break her limbs and lock her up.” I stepped back, avoiding his touch. “It’s not your fault,” I heard my voice, light and airy. “I’m just tired of it.” “Tired…?” His eyelashes fluttered as if he didn’t understand the word. “You don’t love me anymore?” Under the streetlamp, his features were bathed in fragmented light, his acting so convincing it could win awards. A comment drifted by: 【Honestly, not everything he did for her these years was fake, right… kinda heartbreaking.】 That comment suddenly enlightened me. I looked up, meeting his eyes directly: “Alaric Newlywed.” “These past six years, was there even a single second… when you truly felt happy?” His pupils contracted almost imperceptibly. He didn’t answer. But the comments exploded: 【!!! She knows?!】 【OMG OMG high alert—】 【Secondary lead, what are you waiting for! Lie!】 The wind was cold. I gripped my suitcase and turned, disappearing into the night. No footsteps followed. Only the countdown ticking clearly in my mind: 9 days 23 hours 59 minutes. The game wasn’t over. But the player no longer wanted to follow the rules. 2 I hailed a taxi, leaning against the window, my hands trembling. Not from fear. From exhilaration. To finally shed six years of pretense—it felt like taking a first deep breath. The countdown flickered chillingly before my eyes: 9 days 23 hours 10 minutes. Less than ten days left to live. All because of someone who would never love me. How utterly absurd. “Where to, miss?” the driver asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. I gave him the address: my favorite riverside coffee shop from way back. Alaric used to say it was “too loud, too messy.” He stopped me from going there after a while. The comments floated by: 【Where is she going? Shouldn’t she be running?】 【Alaric’s last look was terrifying…】 【Am I the only one who thinks she looks stunning in that red dress?】 Outside the window, the city lights blurred into a streak. For six years, I’d lived as if in a glass dome, seeing only the world filtered through Alaric’s lens. Now the glass was shattered. The wind poured in, bringing with it the aroma of street-side barbecue, the damp river breeze, the chatter of strangers. It was so real, it made me want to cry. The coffee shop was still in its old spot. As I pushed the door open, the wind chimes jingled. The owner, a man with a grizzled beard, stared at me for a moment. “Rowan?” “Mr. Chen, long time no see.” “It really is you!” He wiped his hands and came from behind the counter. “Must be five or six years, right? You used to love that window seat, could write a whole afternoon’s homework with one latte…” That’s when I remembered. Before I knew Alaric, I often came here to write my thesis. Back then, I was a film student, dreaming of winning an Oscar, filling script margins with annotations. What happened after that? Alaric said, “Acting is too tough, I’ll take care of you.” He said, “The entertainment industry is too chaotic for you.” He said, “Rowan, having me is enough.” And I believed him. I gave up auditions, turned down contracts, locked my dreams in a drawer, and handed him the key. “The usual?” Mr. Chen asked. “Yes.” I paused. “And a slice of Tiramisu.” I never dared to eat it before; Alaric said I’d “get fat, not look good on camera.” But now I only had ten days left. What did it matter if I got fat? The window seat was empty. I sat down, the river breeze caressing my face, the lights from the opposite bank reflecting on the water, shimmering like scattered gold. The first bite of cake—the sweet cream and bitter coffee liqueur melted on my tongue. I closed my eyes. So delicious. This was what it felt like to be alive. The comments fell silent for a moment, then slowly drifted by: 【She’s eating so seriously…】 【Why do I suddenly feel a little sad?】 【Only ten days left to live. I’d want a good meal too.】 【By the way, will Alaric really let her be this free? I doubt it.】 I doubted it too. So when my phone vibrated, displaying “Alaric Newlywed” as the caller, I wasn’t surprised. I answered, but said nothing. “Rowan, where are you?” “I’m so worried about you.” His voice carried a hint of fatigue. “Eating.” “Come home, Rowan,” he softened his tone. “We both need to cool off. I promise, I won’t bother you tonight, you can sleep in the guest room. We can talk properly tomorrow, okay?” Such a familiar tone. For six years, every time I threw a tantrum, he was like this. Gently, patiently, coaxing me back into the cage, then everything would return to normal. “Alaric Newlywed.” I looked at the river. “Do you remember my graduation project from college?” He was silent for a moment. “Why ask that all of a sudden?” “I played a woman who was imprisoned. In the end, she set the house on fire and burned herself with it.” I scooped up a bite of cake with my spoon. “You said my acting was too extreme, that no one would be that foolish in real life.” “Now I understand.” “She wasn’t foolish. She just had nothing left but that one fire.” His breathing on the other end of the line grew heavier. “What exactly are you trying to say?” “I’m saying,” I finished the last bite of cake, “for the next ten days, I’m going to live my own life.” “Don’t look for me. Don’t disturb me. Don’t threaten my family.” “After ten days, if I’m still alive…” I smiled. “Then we can play your game again.” 3 I checked into the most expensive presidential suite in the city, using the credit card Alaric had given me. The comments were still streaming: 【Presidential suite??? She really knows how to live it up.】 【Using the secondary lead’s money for a hotel, that’s smart.】 【She only has ten days left, why not splurge?】 I tossed my suitcase in the entryway and sank into a bathtub filled with rose petals. The countdown ticked in my mind: 8 days 14 hours 32 minutes. I had eight and a half days left. My phone was eerily quiet. Alaric hadn’t called again. That wasn’t like him. Late at night, I lay in the three-meter-wide bed. Sparse comments drifted by: 【Is she really sleeping? So calm.】 【What’s the secondary lead doing? Looks like he’s tracking her phone.】 【Honestly, this feeling of being watched is suffocating.】 Just as I was drifting to sleep, I heard a violent kick to the door. I shot upright. The comments instantly exploded: 【OMG what was that sound?!】 【Someone’s breaking in!!!】 【Is it the secondary lead???】 【Help, I’m so nervous.】 Before I could react, the door was violently kicked open. Alaric stood in the doorway, his eyes bloodshot, as if he’d reached his absolute limit of fury. “Rowan Archer.” His voice was hoarse as he strode in, step by step. I instinctively clutched the collar of my robe. He stopped in front of me, his shadow completely engulfing me: “Where is Elara?” I froze. “What?” “Don’t pretend.” He suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip so powerful my bones ached. “Where did you take Elara? Tell me!” “I don’t know what you’re talking about—” I tried to pull free, but his grip tightened. The comments scrolled wildly: 【What’s going on? The heroine was kidnapped?】 【The villainess kidnapped her? No way, she’s been at the hotel.】 【The timeline doesn’t add up, how would she have time to arrange a kidnapping?】 【Has the secondary lead gone crazy?】 “Alaric Newlywed, let go of me!” I gasped in pain. “I haven’t even seen Elara Thorne! I’ve been here for the past two days—” “Rowan Archer, I underestimated you.” “Playing so heartbroken, only to turn around and kidnap Elara? You truly are malicious.” “I didn’t.” I gritted my teeth. He shoved me roughly onto the bed, leaning over me, his hands braced on either side of my head: “I’ll give you one last chance. Where is Elara? What did you do to her?” His breath puffed against my face, carrying a near-mad ferocity. In six years, I had never seen Alaric like this. The comments began to diverge: 【The secondary lead is terrifying…】 【But if the villainess really did kidnap the heroine, then she deserves it, right?】 【Look closely! How would the villainess have time to commit the crime?】 【Could it be a misunderstanding?】 “I told you, I don’t know.” “Alaric Newlywed, look at me. Have I ever lied to you in these six years?” His pupils contracted. A flicker of doubt. “Elara’s phone signal vanished at the coffee shop you visited,” he looked up at me, his eyes like poisoned knives. My entire body went cold. A trap. Someone had set a trap. “It wasn’t me, I didn’t…” My voice began to tremble. “Enough!” He suddenly stood up, pulling out a folding knife. Alaric held my hand, the blade pressed against my wrist. “Rowan Archer.” His voice was terrifyingly low. “I know you hate Elara, hate her for taking me. Though I was never truly yours. But you cannot touch her.” “I’m asking you one last time! Where is Elara?!” The blade dug into the flesh of my wrist, and bright red blood instantly welled up. The excruciating pain shot through my limbs. My vision blurred, and I almost blacked out. The comments were frantic: 【The secondary lead has gone completely mad.】 【I’m starting to pity the villainess… she really looks like she doesn’t know.】 【Villainess, say something! Even if it’s a lie!】 I opened my mouth, a broken gasp escaping my throat: “I… didn’t…”

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Brad Brown, my wife Seraphina’s childhood friend, and I were on our way to a shooting competition when we got into a car accident. I woke up with my eyes bandaged. My wife, Dr. Seraphina Thorne, who was my attending physician, told me that my left eye was severely damaged and I was permanently blind. Meanwhile, Brad had won the gold medal in the shooting competition. At the celebration banquet, he slurred drunkenly: “If Seraphina hadn’t transplanted William Hayes’s cornea to me, I would have gone blind, and I would never have stood on that podium.” Seraphina hugged him tightly: “William lost one eye; I can make it up to him for the rest of my life. I just want you to be well, standing in the spotlight, where everyone can see you.” That’s when I realized my blindness wasn’t an act of fate; it was a human doing. 1 My left eye still throbbed faintly, the wound not yet healed. The conversation in the room continued. Brad raised his glass to Seraphina: “I’ve known since I was a child that I was an orphan. Seraphina and I grew up together; she’s always been so caring, giving me the very best of everything.” “I never imagined that at a crucial point in the competition, when my eye was injured, she would be so generous as to transplant William Hayes’s cornea to me.” “Seraphina, without you, my life would have no future.” Seraphina, with tears in her eyes, drank the wine in Brad’s glass and said, “Silly, who else would I help if not you?” “I was William’s attending physician. I assessed the situation at the time. If your eye hadn’t received a cornea transplant then, you wouldn’t have been able to compete.” “You trained so hard; how could I let your future be ruined?” The relatives inside all exclaimed, “You two really have such a strong bond; Seraphina is incredible to Brad.” “Exactly. But William was also on his way to a competition, wasn’t he? I can’t believe he’d be willing to donate his cornea to Brad.” “He literally gave Brad his future.” Seraphina said disdainfully, “William’s performance is far inferior to Brad’s. It’s better to fulfill Brad’s potential. See? It proves my choice was right at the time.” Outside the door, I clenched my fists, my heart feeling empty and cold, like the dead of winter. I remembered the pre-competition training camp. Brad, who had just gotten his driver’s license, insisted on driving. I disagreed. Seraphina said, “Don’t you trust Brad? I trust him; he can do anything perfectly. If you’re afraid to die, take a cab yourself. Brad, let’s go.” My wife pulled Brad into the car. I had no choice but to follow and get in. To show off in front of Seraphina, Brad sped and drifted occasionally. Finally, at a bend, he collided with a container truck. I was knocked unconscious. When I woke up, it was several days later. Seraphina, in a white lab coat, sat by my bedside. My left eye was heavily bandaged. Before I could speak, Seraphina said tenderly, “Honey, don’t rush. We were in a car accident. Both you and Brad were injured. Your left eye… you’re blind.” Seraphina hugged me, comforting me: “Honey, don’t be scared. No matter what you become, I’ll always be by your side.” At that time, although I was despondent because of my blindness, I was also comforted to have such a wonderful wife. I never imagined my blindness wasn’t caused by the car accident but by human intervention. My father-in-law’s voice in the room was booming: “William is so foolish and clumsy. His shooting scores are nowhere near Brad’s talent. I never approved when he pursued Seraphina. If Brad hadn’t been abroad back then, I would have preferred to marry my daughter to Brad.” Seraphina said shyly, “Dad, stop it.” Brad interjected, “Uncle, if you’re willing to give me a chance, I’ll treat Seraphina well. Now I have the ability to make her happy. William has lost an eye; how can he take care of Seraphina?” Seraphina cooed, “What are you saying? William and I aren’t divorced yet.” 2 Brad declared loudly in front of the guests, “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes. I will marry you and make you happy.” Amidst the cheers of the crowd, they actually embraced. Brad was an orphan, two years younger than Seraphina. When they met, Seraphina’s family treated him very well, practically raising him as a son. My father-in-law always said I was inferior to Brad, and his daughter marrying me was bad luck. But Seraphina always stopped him from expressing dissatisfaction with me, then she’d try to persuade me, “My dad treats Brad like a son. Don’t take it to heart. You’re the one I love. I only see Brad as a little brother.” However, every time something involved Brad, Seraphina always prioritized him. When we first got married, I also thought their bond was like siblings. But over time, I discovered their feelings had long surpassed that of mere siblings. Still, because I loved Seraphina, I kept hoping for one last chance to salvage our marriage. But I never imagined that in a life-or-death situation, Seraphina would abandon me, actually donating my cornea to Brad. Such a marriage was better off without. I stepped back, quietly leaving the celebration banquet at the hotel. I went to the hospital. As Seraphina’s husband, the doctors there had seen me before. I easily found the ophthalmologist who had performed our surgeries. The doctor looked at me with a sigh: “I never imagined that you two, as a couple, would go this far for Brad.” “You’re also a marksman; your eye wasn’t injured at all. Donating a cornea to Brad was completely unnecessary. Actually, his eye could have recovered in a year or two.” “But Dr. Thorne said Brad needed to participate in the competition and couldn’t wait that long. And since you were in a coma, as your wife, she had the right to sign the donation papers on your behalf.” My hand trembled, my heart sinking to rock bottom. I gritted my teeth and asked, “So, Seraphina signed the donation papers for me while I was in a coma, and donated my cornea?” The doctor nodded: “Yes. This normally requires your personal consent, but Dr. Thorne said you had woken up once, and she asked you. She claimed you strongly insisted on it yourself.” “You supposedly said your performance wasn’t as good as Brad’s and you were willing to donate your cornea to him so he could win good scores for the team.” “She was your wife; with her strong insistence, we couldn’t do anything.” “What, are you regretting it now?” I couldn’t utter another word. Ha, I strongly insisted? She took advantage of my coma, spun a web of lies to deceive everyone, and transplanted my cornea to Brad. I sat by the roadside near the hospital, my left eye throbbing faintly. My phone rang. This special ringtone was exclusively for Seraphina’s calls. “Honey, where are you? Brad’s celebration banquet is almost over, and you’re not here yet.” “Remember that watch I mentioned Brad liked? Make sure to buy it as a gift for him. You know, he’s famous now, he needs some nice accessories.” “That watch really suits his style. Remember to buy it before you come, and while you’re at it, settle the bill for our room.” Ha. I didn’t attend the celebration, and she didn’t ask if I was okay. She just demanded I buy a gift and pay the bill. That watch cost over half a million. Seraphina had seen it and declared it for Brad. In the past, I would have just bought it, following Seraphina’s words. But now, I wouldn’t pay another penny for them. I said coldly, “I can’t make it; something came up. You two pay for it yourselves.” Seraphina paused, then immediately erupted, “You’re not coming? Who’s going to pay if you don’t? Today’s celebration, the best wines were used, and all the seafood was flown in fresh. You absolutely have to pay this hundred-thousand-dollar bill.” 3 “If you can’t come, transfer the money to me.” I chuckled, “Seraphina, my eye hurts, I’m not feeling well. Besides, it’s Brad’s celebration, doesn’t he have a million-dollar prize? How can he not afford the bill, especially for such expensive dishes?” Seraphina sounded exasperated on the other end of the phone: “Brad’s prize money has other uses. He needs to buy a house! As his brother-in-law, what’s wrong with buying a watch and treating him to dinner?” “William, how did you become so petty?” Brad chimed in from the background: “Seraphina, don’t pressure William. He might be upset because I won the medal.” “If it’s really a problem, I won’t buy a house yet. I’ll pay the bill first, and forget about the watch.” “I originally thought the prize money could be a down payment for that house you liked. I was going to buy it for you, I wanted to be able to give you a home from the elements.” Seraphina was moved, her voice choked: “Silly, how can I let you pay? I said I wanted to host the celebration. I’ll pay. If William won’t, I will.” After she finished, she spoke coldly to me on the phone: “William, you hold onto your money. Don’t think everyone is like you, only caring about money.” “What do you have now besides money? Don’t forget, you lost an eye, and only I’m here by your side, not disliking you.” “I thought my sincerity would be rewarded, but I never expected you to be such a narrow-minded person.” With that, she violently hung up the phone. I immediately called the bank and froze all my supplementary cards. The reason Seraphina could consistently support Brad was that she used my supplementary cards to buy him various luxury items, shaping Brad into the image of a promising young socialite. Only outsiders didn’t know that everything he wore and used, every penny, was mine. Keep in mind that the shooting team only provided athletes with a basic monthly living allowance, which wasn’t even enough for Brad to throw a lavish dinner for his teammates. Under Seraphina’s indulgence, they squandered lavishly. They had long forgotten that everything they possessed was given by me. Not even ten minutes passed before Seraphina called again: “William, what do you mean? Why did you stop my card?” I said coldly, “I didn’t stop your card. I only stopped mine. Seraphina, the supplementary card is also my card, have you forgotten?” “Isn’t your card with you? If you want to help Brad pay, use your salary card. In the few years we’ve been married, hasn’t your salary card been untouched? Paying this hundred thousand should be easy, right?” Seraphina shrieked: “Use my salary card? I don’t have any money left! William, how did you become like this? Quibbling over a bit of money! You were injured, hospitalized for surgery, you lost an eye—who was it who stayed by your side, never abandoning you? How can you be so heartless?” I interrupted her: “Seraphina, did my eye really go blind because of the car accident?” Seraphina was silent on the phone, then said: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your eye was severely injured in the car accident. I tried my best to get you treatment. This current state is the best option.” “You don’t be unreasonable. Unblock my card right now.” “Seraphina, there’s nothing left between us. My lawyer will contact you. Let’s get a divorce. I’ll make way for you and Brad.” With that, I hung up the phone directly. No matter how many times she called afterward, I didn’t answer. I went home, packed my bags, and moved to a hotel. Seraphina couldn’t reach me by phone, and she kept sending various messages to my cell, but I ignored them all. However, I didn’t expect her to track down my follow-up appointment time from the hospital and intercept me there. 4 She slapped a bill against my chest: “The celebration banquet bill, a total of one hundred and ten thousand. Pay me back immediately. Do you know how desperate I was to scrape together that money?” “You’re my husband; half your money is mine. How dare you deny me access?” “I never abandoned you, and this is how you treat me? Where’s your conscience?” I let the bill fall to the floor, looking at her: “I said I’m divorcing you. Did you not hear clearly? The divorce papers have already been sent to your house.” She looked at me with disdain: “Playing hard to get? Thinking that will scare me? William, don’t say things you don’t mean. You said no matter what I did, you’d never leave me.” “You’ll keep your word, won’t you?” I looked at her with extreme disappointment: “So, you do whatever you please? Seraphina, how did my eye go blind? Can you tell me?” Seraphina turned her head away: “Your eye was severely injured in the car accident and went blind.” I said softly: “Is that so? But why did I hear that my cornea was surgically removed and donated to Brad?” “And the person who signed the consent was you, Seraphina. It was you who forcibly gave my cornea to Brad. It was you who caused me to lose my sight.” “The doctor said his eye could recover. Why would you do this to me!” Seraphina suddenly became agitated: “What do you mean ‘could recover’? That would take two years! Brad couldn’t wait that long.” “He’s in his prime right now. You couldn’t win the competition anyway, so it was better to donate your cornea to him. See? The facts prove my decision was right; he won the competition.” “I promise you, you’re blind, I’ll still be by your side, I won’t leave you. I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life.” I laughed mockingly: “Not leave me? Wouldn’t you not leave me because you need my money to support your family, to support Brad?” “Without me, where would you get the money to buy Brad all those luxury items?” Seraphina’s face turned red, and she shouted: “When did I ever use your money to buy Brad luxury items? I used my own salary!” “And, I treat Brad like my own brother. What’s wrong with buying my brother a few things?” “As his brother-in-law, shouldn’t you buy him something too?” I laughed in anger: “Seraphina, do you truly consider him a brother? You know the truth in your heart. No one would go to such lengths for a brother.” “No matter what you say, I won’t spend another dime on you and your ‘dear brother.’” With that, I turned to leave. Seraphina yelled after me, “William, who else will want you now except me? You’ll regret this.” I didn’t bother to respond to her. Before I left her, I had many things to do. The first thing I did was go to the shooting team to withdraw from training. As I left the shooting team, I ran into the media interviewing Brad. He was surrounded by reporters and various streamers chasing clicks. “What do you have to say about winning the gold medal this time?” Brad’s face was full of tenderness as he looked at Seraphina by his side: “This time, I particularly want to thank someone, my best sister, my best confidante, Seraphina.” “She’s also a doctor at Central Hospital. I was in a car accident before the competition, and she saved me. It was also her selflessness that restored my sight.” The reporters exclaimed in admiration, their microphones turned to Seraphina: “Dr. Thorne, we also heard that your husband went blind in the car accident. He’s also a marksman, isn’t he?” Seraphina’s face showed sorrow: “Yes, I’m very sad too. I’ve been by his side, accompanying him, taking care of him, hoping for his speedy recovery.” “Although his scores are much worse than Brad’s, he’s still very upset about losing the opportunity to compete. I hope everyone won’t disturb him.” A reporter asked: “Excuse me, your husband’s eye went blind in the car accident. Since Brad had the chance for a cornea transplant, Dr. Thorne, why didn’t you keep that opportunity for your husband?” Seraphina’s face turned grim. She mumbled, unsure how to answer. “Because, Brad’s cornea… is mine.”

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I can see a death countdown above everyone’s head. And my wife, Seraphina White, her death date was today. For ten years, she had maintained the pretense of being infertile. But today, she brought home a five-year-old child, along with her long-term secret lover, Alaric Sterling. She laid it all out for me, while the family elders circled, urging me to be magnanimous. “Cain, Seraphina hasn’t had it easy. A woman, you know, always wants children. Just think of it as gaining another son, there’s nothing wrong with that.” I looked at the rapidly ticking countdown above her head: [00:01:30]. I said softly, “I will not acknowledge this child of unknown origin.” Seraphina looked at me as if I were a fool she had utterly outmaneuvered. Her eyes gleamed with triumph. She smugly wrapped her arm around Alaric’s waist and announced, “Whether you acknowledge them or not, I will never abandon them, father and son. From now on, I’ll be with you during the day, and with him at night…” Countdown: [00:00:10]. I calmly stated, “In that case, let’s get a divorce.” Her eyes widened in fury, but then she clutched her chest and collapsed. The countdown hit zero. 1 The moment Seraphina collapsed, the entire White family living room fell into a dead silence. Alaric, who a second ago had a triumphant smile, now had all the color drained from his face. His scream ripped through the air. “Seraphina! Seraphina, what’s wrong! Wake up!” The five-year-old boy stood still, his face utterly bewildered, then burst into loud sobs. I stood rooted, watching the completely extinguished numbers above Seraphina’s head. There was nothing there now. She was dead. “Quick! Call an ambulance!” “It’s you! Cain Stowell! You drove her to her death!” Alaric suddenly looked up, his bloodshot eyes glaring at me. I pulled out my phone, my fingers steadily dialing for emergency services. Then, I dialed the police. “Hello, officers? My wife suddenly died. I suspect the gentleman with her is involved.” My voice was not loud, but it clearly carried to every corner of the living room. Alaric’s sobs ceased abruptly. He stared at me in disbelief, as if I were insane. “You… you’re talking nonsense! How could I harm Seraphina!” I lowered my gaze, no longer looking at him. The ambulance and patrol car arrived almost simultaneously. The emergency doctor checked her on-site, then regretfully shook his head. “Time of death approximately ten minutes ago. Preliminary diagnosis is sudden cardiac arrest.” The police began their routine: cordoning off the scene and questioning witnesses. My in-laws, Mr. and Mrs. White, rushed in upon hearing the news. My mother-in-law, seeing Seraphina on the floor, rolled her eyes and fainted, caught clumsily by my father-in-law. When she slowly came to, her first action was to charge at me, hand raised to strike. “You good-for-nothing! Did you poison her food? My daughter was perfectly fine! How could she just drop dead?” Her hand was stopped by an officer. I looked at her face, twisted with rage. The countdown above her head showed [3 years 2 months 11 days]. Not long, but enough for her to suffer. My unusual calmness became the biggest suspicion in their eyes. “Mr. Stowell, please come down to the station with us to cooperate with the investigation.” I nodded, took my phone, and followed the officers out. As I passed Alaric, he was holding the child, looking at me with a mix of venomous resentment and triumph. He thought I was finished. I glanced at the brightly lit [52 years 6 months 3 days] above his head, a faint, almost imperceptible curve on my lips. 2 The interrogation room lights were blindingly white. The officer opposite me asked routine questions, and I answered calmly. “What was your relationship with your wife like?” “Ten years of marriage, what do you think?” I retorted. “She brought her lover and illegitimate child home. How did you react?” “I didn’t want her to bring the child back.” The officer tapped the table, leaning forward, his gaze sharp. “Then why did you suggest divorce?” “Because he wanted me to share a room with them, father and son. I found it disgusting,” I said frankly. The officer fell silent, seemingly judging the veracity of my words. I added, “Seraphina White has a hereditary heart condition. She never told outsiders about it, not even her parents.” “She relied on medication to manage it, but I suspect she was too emotional today and forgot to take her medicine.” The officer immediately called to verify. I sat calmly in the chair, awaiting the results. My countdown ability had been with me since I could remember; it never made mistakes. Seraphina’s death was predetermined, and had nothing to do with me. But they wouldn’t believe it. Two hours later, the preliminary autopsy report came in. Cause of death: acute massive myocardial infarction. No toxic substances were found in the deceased’s blood or stomach contents. Combined with my testimony, and the medical records and medication found in her study safe, everything was perfectly logical. My name was cleared. As I walked out of the police station, dawn was just breaking. The White family’s car was parked at the entrance. My mother-in-law and Alaric were both there. Seeing me emerge, my mother-in-law immediately rushed towards me. “You scumbag! My daughter was perfectly healthy! How could she have a heart condition? It’s you! It must be you, you good-for-nothing, who killed her!” She was like a madwoman, held back tightly by my father-in-law. Alaric, clutching the child, was crying, his eyes bloodshot. “Mom, please don’t… Seraphina… she must have been too happy, finally having her own child… It’s all my fault. If we hadn’t come back and agitated Cain, Seraphina wouldn’t have…” His words, seemingly conciliatory, subtly shifted all blame onto me. See, what masterful manipulation. I watched their family drama unfold with cold indifference, my heart utterly unmoved. I walked up to Alaric. “Seraphina is dead. What do you plan to do with your child?” Alaric’s sobbing paused. He instinctively shielded the five-year-old boy. “This is Seraphina’s flesh and blood! Of course, I’ll protect him and make him happy!” “Oh.” I nodded. “Then good luck.” I walked past them, hailed a taxi, and drove straight away. Behind me, my mother-in-law’s curses grew sharper. I returned to the villa, which no longer felt like a home. Seraphina’s body had been taken away, but the cold scent of death still lingered in the air. I started packing; I didn’t want to stay in this place for another second. 3 Seraphina White’s funeral was exceptionally grand. Business elites, relatives, and friends—everyone came. As her husband, I stood there in a black Chanel suit, my face calm, accepting various looks of sympathy or scrutiny. Alaric also came, leading the boy named Julian White, dressed in white, weeping uncontrollably, as if he were the true Mr. White. My mother-in-law, leaning heavily on my father-in-law, shot me hateful glances throughout. During the eulogy, my mother-in-law suddenly attacked. In front of all the guests, she pointed a finger at me and cursed. “You useless man! You killed my daughter, and now you want to come and claim our White family fortune? I’m telling you, as long as I live, you won’t get a single penny!” She lunged at me, trying to tear at me, but was pulled away by a nearby relative. I stood still, not moving an inch, not even raising an eyebrow. “Mom, please calm down. Seraphina, in the afterlife, wouldn’t want to see you like this.” My address of “Mom” only stoked her fury further. “Who’s your mother! Don’t call me that! I don’t have a son-in-law as malicious as you!” Alaric chose that moment to “faint” into her arms, causing a chaotic scene. “Alaric, Alaric, what’s wrong?!” “Quick! To the hospital! He’s practically half a son to the White family now!” A solemn funeral had completely devolved into a farce of fighting over inheritance. I watched with cold eyes, finding it utterly ridiculous. After the funeral, it was time for the will reading. The White family’s exclusive lawyer, Mr. Davies, opened the file. Everyone held their breath, especially Alaric and my in-laws; they were certain Seraphina would leave her fortune to her “son.” Mr. Davies cleared his throat and began to read. “I, Seraphina White, hereby make this will… All property under my name, including but not limited to fifty-one percent of the White Group’s shares, three properties, and all bank deposits, securities…” He paused, looking at me. “Shall all be inherited solely by my legal husband, Mr. Cain Stowell.” The air was deadly silent. Everyone’s gaze focused on me—shock, confusion, anger. Alaric’s face instantly drained of color, and he swayed precariously. My mother-in-law was the first to react, letting out a shriek. “Impossible! This will is fake! How could my daughter leave all her money to this scumbag? This will must be fake!” 4 Mr. Davies calmly presented the notarized documents and date of the will. “Mrs. White, this will was drafted ten years ago and holds full legal validity. Ms. White did not execute a new will afterward.” Ten years ago. That was when we were most in love. She feared that if anything happened to her, I would be left alone, so she took me to get it notarized together. She had probably never imagined she would die so soon, without even having the chance to revise her will for her secret lover and illegitimate child. Truly, man proposes, God disposes. “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!” My mother-in-law lunged to snatch the will, but was stopped by security. My father-in-law’s face was ashen, his eyes glaring at me. “Cain Stowell, you knew about this will all along, didn’t you?” I didn’t answer, simply stood up and adjusted my cuffs. “Mr. Davies, please expedite the property transfer procedures.” With that, I turned and walked away, no longer paying attention to the chaos behind me. What was mine, I wouldn’t give up a single cent. I underestimated their shamelessness. That same evening, as soon as I returned home, I found the digital lock had been changed. I rang the doorbell, and the housekeeper opened the door. She looked at me with a troubled expression. “Sir… the elder Mrs. and Mr. White…” I pushed past her and walked in. In the living room, my in-laws, Alaric, and the boy Julian White, sat on the sofa like they owned the place. My suitcase was thrown by the door, its contents scattered on the floor. My mother-in-law sat with one leg crossed over the other, cracking sunflower seeds, barely lifting an eyelid when she saw me. “Oh, still remembered to come back? I thought you’d run off with my daughter’s money.” I walked up to her, looking down at her. “This is my home. Why are you here?” “Your home?” My mother-in-law sounded as if she’d heard the funniest joke. “This house was bought by my daughter; her name is on the deed! She’s dead, so this belongs to the White family! What right do you, an outsider, have to live here?” Alaric spoke softly, “Cain, please let us stay. Julian and I need a place to live… Auntie also missed her grandson, that’s why she moved in.” His words reminded me. Seraphina was dead. According to inheritance law, her parents and children are first-line heirs. But in the presence of a will, the will takes precedence. This house was now mine. “Whose name is on the deed doesn’t matter. What matters is, the will states this house belongs to me.” I took out my phone, ready to call the police. My father-in-law suddenly stood up. He was an educated man, more concerned with appearances than my mother-in-law. “Cain, we’re not here to fight you for the house. It’s just that Seraphina just passed, and we’re heartbroken. We want to stay a few more days in the place where she lived, to be with her.” He played the emotional card. “And Julian is Seraphina’s only bloodline; we want to get closer to him. Don’t worry, once we’ve stabilized emotionally, we’ll move out naturally.” I looked at his “sincere” face, then at the countdown above his head: [8 years 1 month 20 days]. I smirked internally. They weren’t trying to mourn the dead; they were clearly trying to squat here, forcing me to hand over the property. I put my phone away and nodded. “Alright, in that case, you can stay.” I wanted to see what tricks they would pull. My concession, in their eyes, was weakness. The next day, I found my master bedroom had been taken. Alaric and Julian White had moved in. My clothes, my accessories, my belongings—all were thrown out, piled on the guest room floor. My mother-in-law stood with hands on her hips at the master bedroom door, like a victorious general. “This is my grandson’s room! You, a good-for-nothing who’s been relying on my daughter for ten years, what right do you have to the master bedroom? Go sleep in the maid’s quarters over there!” Alaric, wearing my silk pajamas, leaned against the doorframe, giving me a provocative smile. “Cain, I’m sorry. Julian gets restless at night and will only sleep here. Your things… I was going to help you tidy them, but Auntie said they were bad luck and told me not to touch them.” He finished, stroking Julian White’s head, his face full of contentment. “The doctor said Julian is a smart child. The White family will rely on this little man, Julian, in the future.”

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