I went undercover as an intern at my sister’s company, hiding my identity. But after three months of hard work, HR informed me I failed the probation period. They were also withholding my entire salary. “The reason?” “You took 3 days off.” I looked at the HR manager, amused. “First, it was bereavement leave. My grandmother passed away.” “Second, I followed every legal procedure.” “Third…” I turned to look at another intern who started with me, Caleb Wilson. “He took off three times this month just to take care of his girlfriend who had cramps. Totaling 21 days.” “Why did he pass probation?” HR looked at me with disdain. “This company belongs to his family. Why do you think?” “Besides, period cramps can be excruciating. It’s a matter of life and death.” “You just had a grandmother die. What gives you the right to take leave?” 1 On the last day of my internship, I was called into the office of HR Manager Linda Fox. “Aiden, your application for full-time employment has been rejected.” Hearing this, I wasn’t surprised. “Additionally, because your excessive leave during the internship severely impacted workflow, per company policy, your entire salary for the three months will be deducted.” I finally couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Manager Fox, I need an explanation.” My reaction seemed to anger her. She sat up straight, her narrow eyes glaring at me sharply. “Explanation? What explanation do you need? It’s written in black and white: leave cannot exceed two days. How long were you gone?” “Three days,” I replied calmly. “First, I took bereavement leave for my grandmother. That is a legally protected right.” “Second, I submitted all necessary documentation and received approval from my department head.” “Third…” My gaze moved past her to the figure outside the office, laughing boisterously with colleagues. “Caleb Wilson, who started with me, took leave three times in three months to ‘take care of his girlfriend.’ Seven days each time, totaling 21 days. Why did he pass probation smoothly?” Linda scoffed, leaning back lazily in her chair. “Aiden, did you lose your brain during the internship? You’re comparing yourself to Caleb?” “Didn’t you ask around? Do you know whose family owns this company?” “Besides, period cramps can be life-threatening. It could affect future generations. And you?” She scanned me up and down, her lips curling in contempt. “You just had a grandmother die, right?” “Old people die eventually. Is that such a big deal to take three days off? So dramatic.” I lowered my eyes and didn’t argue further. Amidst her endless chatter and biting sarcasm, I silently reached into my pocket. My finger slid along the side of my phone and pressed the lock button. Before the screen went dark, I clearly saw the bright red, ticking timer of the voice recorder. Good. All the evidence is here. 2 Holding my water bottle, I walked back to my desk in the Marketing Department, expressionless. The bustling office quieted instantly. Everyone’s eyes focused on me like spotlights. Some pitied, some were curious, but most were gloating. I could hear whispered gossip buzzing like flies. Ignoring everyone, I walked straight to my seat and started packing. Keyboard, mouse pad, a mug I used for three years, and a few professional books. When I picked up the proposal for “Project Starlight,” my fingers paused. This plan, which cost me countless sleepless nights, had become the brightest highlight on Caleb’s resume. I remembered clearly how my direct supervisor, Tom Baker—a middle-aged man with a receding hairline who lived by the motto “less trouble is better”—handed this proposal to Caleb in front of the entire department. He praised him: “Exceptional talent, a promising future.” And me, the actual creator? I got a dismissive, “Aiden participated too. Keep working hard.” All this happened because everyone firmly believed Caleb was the Chairman’s fiancé. “Oh my, Aiden, what are you doing?” Caleb sashayed over to me, looking down with feigned surprise and syrupy sweetness. “Why are you packing? Did Manager Fox say something harsh?” “Please don’t take it to heart. She has a sharp tongue but a soft heart.” He reached out to hold down my box, but I dodged sideways. Too lazy to look at him, I continued sweeping clutter into the box. Feeling ignored, his voice took on a tone of victorious boasting: “But don’t be too sad. Just because this company didn’t work out doesn’t mean others won’t. How about this? In a few days, I’ll ask my girlfriend to look out for you and introduce you to a good job. How does that sound?” I finally stopped, looked up at him, and said nothing. Uncomfortable under my gaze, he puffed out his chest anyway. I picked up the box, stood up, and walked away. “Aiden!” The receptionist, Jenny, ran over, grabbing my arm, her eyes red. “These people are too much! It’s bullying!” Jenny was the only person in the company who treated me as a friend. I patted her hand, slipped the voice recorder into her pocket, and whispered, “Keep this safe for me.” She froze, then nodded heavily. I didn’t look back. Hugging the box, I walked step by step toward the elevator. Passing the huge glass wall, I could see the faces inside, each harboring their own schemes. The elevator doors closed slowly, cutting off all sights and sounds. 3 Three days later, it was the company’s New Employee Welcome Gala. I hadn’t planned on going. A fired employee attending his own welcome party sounded like a joke. But Jenny’s calls nearly blew up my phone. “Aiden, are you really not coming?” “Come on, come on! The food is free anyway, don’t waste it!” Looking at my pale face in the mirror, the refusal on my lips was swallowed back. Maybe I should go. To see how Caleb accepts everyone’s congratulations as the victor. Before I could decide, an unexpected call came in. It was my sister, Elena. “Aiden, where are you?” Her voice was familiar, slightly tired but steady as always. “Home. Elena, aren’t you on a business trip in Europe? Finished so early?” “Changed plans, just landed.” She paused, a hint of a smile in her voice. “I have a surprise for you tonight. To celebrate our Aiden’s successful employment, I prepared a gift.” My heart sank. “What surprise?” “Not telling you yet. Get ready, wait for me to pick you up.” Before I could ask more, she hung up. I stared at the dark screen, an ominous feeling rising in my chest. Meanwhile, at the Starfall Hotel ballroom, the scene was lavish and bustling. Elena, in a perfectly tailored gown, attracted everyone’s attention the moment she stepped in. Her appearance froze the air for a few seconds. No one expected the elusive big boss to attend a small new employee welcome party. Ignoring the executives trying to chat her up, her cold gaze scanned the room, searching for someone. Once, twice. She frowned slightly. Aiden wasn’t there. Her gaze finally landed on the reception desk, on a familiar figure—Jenny. She knew Jenny. Aiden had mentioned she was his only friend at the company. Elena strode over with her long legs. “Hello, Ms. Vance!” Startled, Jenny nearly knocked over her champagne. She stood straight, greeting her nervously. “Where is Aiden?” Elena got straight to the point. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried undeniable pressure. “A-Aiden… he…” Jenny’s eyes panicked instantly, dodging her gaze. “He… he’s not feeling well today, so… so he didn’t come.” Elena stared at her, unconsciously twisting the ring on her finger. “Not feeling well?” She repeated, tone unreadable. “I spoke to him on the phone minutes ago. He didn’t say he was unwell.” Jenny’s face turned white instantly. Her lips trembled, unable to utter a word. Her reaction explained more than any words could. Elena’s heart sank. She realized something was wrong. 4 Just as Elena’s patience was running out, the ballroom lights dimmed, and a spotlight hit the center stage. The host enthusiastically announced the start of the New Employee Welcome Gala. Then, HR Manager Linda Fox, wearing a brand-new suit, walked onto the stage beaming. Enjoying the attention, she cleared her throat and spoke in a dramatic cadence: “Good evening, leaders and colleagues!” “Today is a day for celebration. Our company has injected fresh blood once again.” “After three months of strict evaluation, a group of outstanding interns has emerged to become official members of our family!” Polite applause rippled through the audience. Elena sat in the VIP corner, her grip on the wine glass tightening, her cold gaze locked on Linda. “Now, I will announce the list of employees who successfully passed probation!” Linda’s voice pitched up, unable to hide her smugness. She picked up the cue card and began reading. “Tech Department: Mark Johnson, Leo Smith…” “Admin Department: Emily Brown…” With each name, small cheers and applause erupted. Elena’s face darkened inch by inch. The pressure around her dropped so low that executives wanting to toast her stayed away. “Finally,” Linda dragged out the word, building suspense, her face piled with a fawning smile. “I want to grandly introduce the pride of our Marketing Department. Not only did he contribute several excellent ideas during his internship, but his performance was far ahead of everyone else. He is our company’s future star—Mr. Caleb Wilson!” The spotlight instantly swung to Caleb in the audience. Wearing a designer suit, he stood up elegantly, waving to colleagues around him, his face wearing the reserve and pride of a winner. The loudest applause of the night erupted. On stage, Linda continued her lavish praise: “Mr. Wilson’s excellence is obvious to all. His joining will surely bring new vitality to Vance Group! Let’s welcome Caleb Wilson officially joining us with another round of applause!” Thunderous applause. Elena’s gaze swept over Caleb without pausing, returning to Linda’s face. She listened quietly. Until Linda closed the cue card and said “That concludes the list” with a smile. She never heard the name she wanted to hear most. Aiden. Her brother, Aiden’s name, was not on the list. Amidst the endless applause, Elena stood up, face frosty. She slammed her wine glass onto the table. The thud was muffled in the noise, but it made those nearby jump. Striding forward, ignoring everyone, she walked straight toward the brilliantly lit stage. The crowd parted automatically. The applause faded. Everyone looked at the unsmiling big boss in confusion, wondering what she was doing. Linda, immersed in her perfect hosting, turned to find Elena’s freezing face inches away. Her smile froze. She stammered: “M-Ms. Vance, you…” Ignoring her, Elena reached out and took the microphone from her stunned hand. The feedback screech pierced through the speakers. The entire hall went dead silent. Her cold eyes swept over every confused face. Her voice, amplified, rang clearly through the hall: “Where is my brother, Aiden?”

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The year my mother remarried, she took me, just ten years old, to the Vital Records Office. “Your new dad already has a son and a daughter. It wasn’t easy for me to find someone, so I didn’t tell him I have a daughter too.” I looked up, confused and innocent. “Mom, then what about me?” The new household register was issued. My mother gestured for me to open it. My grandparents had become my legal “mother and father” in the relationship column, while my mother had become my legal sister. “You should call Grandma ‘Mom’ now,” she said, pocketing the document. “Take the bus back to Grandma’s house yourself. I have to go pick up my daughter from school.” I clutched the register and lowered my head. I knew the daughter she spoke of wasn’t me anymore. From that day on, I never saw my mother again. In my junior year of college, my grandparents passed away. My mother, who had vanished for 11 years, suddenly appeared at my grandparents’ house, a real estate agent standing beside her. “I’m the only daughter. What belonged to the old folks is mine. I have the right to sell this house.” I stepped forward, pulling out the household register. “Sister, you’re not an only child. You have a little sister, remember?” 1 The real estate agent took the register, glanced at it, and immediately exploded at my mother. “What are you playing at?! You said you were an only child, and now a sister pops up? You wasted half my day! If this deal falls through, it’s on you!” “I already found a buyer! They’re driving over right now! How am I supposed to explain this?!” Still furious, the agent glared at me before turning away to call the buyer, his voice dripping with apologetic fawning. My mother turned, glaring at me. “Ava, what is the meaning of this?!” I shrugged, holding up the register. “It means this house is mine.” “For the past two years, while Grandma and Grandpa were bedridden, I was the one cleaning them, feeding them meds, wiping their bodies. Where were you? Where were you then?” My mother rushed to defend herself. “I was busy!” “I have a new family to take care of, step-siblings to manage. Where would I find the time? Besides, this house should be mine. I’m their biological daughter!” “Biological daughter?” I laughed. “You disappeared for 11 years.” “You haven’t stepped foot in this house for 11 years. You never cooked a meal or poured a glass of water for them.” “Now that they’re gone, you show up with an agent to sell the house? And you call yourself a daughter?” My mother’s face went from red to white, then white to green. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. Indeed, it wasn’t something to be proud of. “Ava, how can you fight me for a house? We’re only sisters on paper, but you’re my real daughter, the flesh and blood I carried for ten months!” Real daughter… I remembered the first Lunar New Year after she remarried when I was ten. I took a scarf I knitted myself to her new home. The whole way, I anticipated her reaction. Would she apologize? Would she wish me a Happy New Year? But when she saw the scarf, she tossed it aside carelessly, turning to hug a girl slightly taller than me, adjusting her wool scarf. The girl looked at me curiously. “Mommy, who is she?” My mother said, “Just a distant poor relative. We’re not close.” I stood shivering in the cold wind, wanting to call out “Mom,” but was forced back by the icy glare she shot over her shoulder. That day, I stood downstairs at her new place for a full hour, my heart frozen solid. After returning from her house, I caught a chill and ran a fever of 104 degrees, deliriously calling for Mom. Grandma, heartbroken, called my mother. I clearly heard her say one sentence. “I have to watch cartoons with my daughter. I don’t have time to take care of outsiders.” Then, she hung up. So, in her heart, I was just an outsider. From then on, my mother was no longer “Mom” in my heart. Over countless days and nights, I told myself: Ava, you don’t have a mother anymore. Thinking of this, I looked up. “I am not your daughter.” “From the day you made me your sister on paper, from the day you made me take the bus alone while you picked up someone else’s daughter, I haven’t had a mother.” My mother was speechless. Just as she was about to speak, footsteps and laughter came from the stairwell. Her stepdaughter, stepson, and new husband appeared. The girl threw herself at my mother the moment she entered. “Mom! We’re here! Where’s the agent? How’s the house sale going?” “You promised to use the money for my dowry! Don’t play favorites and give it to my brother!” The boy laughed. “Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll take care of you. I won’t fight you for the dowry.” “But Mom, after selling the house, shouldn’t you pitch in for my new car?” The man walked up to my mother, glancing at me. “You must be Jane’s little sister?” “Oh, we came in a rush, didn’t bring a gift for the sister-in-law.” I didn’t even look at them. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. “Sister, Brother-in-law.” “This house is mine. All of Mom and Dad’s inheritance belongs to me. You have no right to touch it.” The room went silent. The girl’s smile froze. The boy’s face darkened. The man frowned at my mother. My mother, humiliated by everyone’s gaze, glared at me, speaking with hidden menace. “Ava! Don’t go too far!” She was threatening me, but didn’t dare reveal our twisted “sister” relationship. “This house belonged to my parents. How could it be yours?” I held up the register. “Why not? Just because I’m the younger ‘sister’ doesn’t mean I don’t get a share, right?” “Before ‘Mom and Dad’ passed, I was the one taking care of them. You didn’t lift a finger or contribute a cent.” “Legally or morally, this house is none of your business.” The girl got anxious. After all, my mother had promised her the money for her dowry. She yelled at me. “This house belongs to my mom! My mom is Grandpa and Grandma’s daughter, so it’s hers! Who do you think you are to fight her for it?” I stared at her. “I am also ‘Mom and Dad’s’ daughter. I am your mother’s sister on paper.” “If we’re talking qualifications, you don’t even have the right to stand here and speak.” My mother quickly shielded the girl, as if I would eat her alive. “Don’t you dare yell at my daughter!” As if truly angered by my “rebellion,” she pointed at the door: “Get out! This is my parents’ house! It’s not your place to act wild!” “Get out?” I shook my head. “This is the home I’ve lived in for over ten years. It’s where I cared for ‘Mom and Dad’ until they died.” “The ones who need to get out are you.” The man narrowed his eyes at me for a few seconds, then tugged at my mother’s arm. “Let’s go. We’ll talk later.” My mother was still fuming and refused to leave. “Why leave? It’s my house!” The man’s voice was low. “Making a scene here won’t work.” He glanced around, clearly afraid the neighbors would hear and gossip. My mother froze, then glared at me viciously before turning to follow the man. The boy and girl followed reluctantly. As the girl passed me, she deliberately bumped into my shoulder. “Psycho. Cheapskate.” I ignored her. Just as they reached the stairs, the man stopped and turned to me. “Little sister-in-law, don’t get too cocky. The house isn’t necessarily yours.” “At most, you get a majority share. Your sister is the biological daughter. Blood is blood; inheritance rights can’t be erased.” He smiled confidently. “We have plenty of time to drag this out. But you, a little girl still in college, can you afford it?” With that, they left without waiting for a response. His meaning was clear. So as soon as he left, I started organizing evidence of my care for my grandparents. I dug out their medical records, filled with my signature. I found receipts for medicine and hospital bills from over the years. Stacks of them piled up on the desk, filling two file folders. I also contacted the caregiver who helped before and the neighbors; they were willing to testify for me. It was enough to prove that for the past three years, I was the one meticulously caring for the elderly couple, while my mother never showed her face. I organized the evidence, made copies, and consulted the legal aid center at school to understand the relevant laws. Days passed. I attended classes while waiting for their next move. Sure enough, a week later, I received a court summons. My mother sued me. She demanded the court confirm her inheritance rights to the property and divide the other assets. On the day of the hearing, the courtroom was quiet. I sat down, and soon saw my mother and her entourage walk in. The trial began. The judge verified identities, then asked the plaintiff to state their claim. My mother’s lawyer stood up, stating that my mother was the biological daughter and legally entitled to inheritance, and I shouldn’t monopolize the estate. When it was my turn, I stood up. “Your Honor, I disagree with the plaintiff’s claim.” “First, I legally enjoy equal inheritance rights with the plaintiff. Second, the plaintiff never fulfilled any support obligations during the illness of the two elders.” The judge flipped through the thick stack of evidence I prepared, nodding repeatedly. My mother, however, came prepared. She suddenly stood up, pointing at me and shouting. “Ava! What right do you have to claim equal inheritance? You aren’t even my parents’ biological daughter!” Her words silenced the courtroom. Everyone’s eyes focused on us. My mother pulled a document from her bag and held it high. “Your Honor, I have a DNA test report here. It proves that Ava and I are biologically mother and daughter!” “She isn’t my parents’ daughter; she’s my daughter! She has no right to inherit my parents’ estate!” The courtroom erupted. “Wow, that mother is ruthless. Remarried and didn’t even want her daughter?” “Why didn’t she take her when she remarried? Maybe the kid was bad from the start.” “Yeah, look at her now. Pretending to be confused just for money. Shameless.” Murmurs rose from the gallery. The judge frowned, accepting the DNA report. I was stunned. I had prepared so much evidence, but I never expected my mother to expose this publicly. I turned to look behind her. Her new family showed no surprise. Instead, they wore smug expressions, as if they expected this. In that moment, I understood everything. Why my mother dared to admit I was her daughter in public, why her husband and stepchildren weren’t angry. It wasn’t motherly love. It was because I was a junior in college, about to graduate. They could skip all the child-rearing costs and pick up a daughter ready to contribute to the family. Of course they agreed. It was all benefit, no cost. They could claim the inheritance and bind me to the moral high ground of filial piety. I suppressed the urge to scream. The twisted “sister” relationship with my mother was the deepest scar of my life. And now, she tore it open in public, bloody and raw. She didn’t care about my pain, only how much blood she could suck. My mother looked at my shocked face triumphantly. “Ava, what do you have to say now? You are my daughter. I gave birth to you.” “Now that my parents are gone, this house naturally belongs to me, the only daughter. Stop dreaming.” You are my daughter. The identity I once craved was realized in such an absurd way. My heart pounded violently. I looked at my mother’s smug face, memories flashing through my mind. Her coldness when I was young. Her heartlessness when my grandparents died. Everything she did these past few days to steal the house. A massive rage welled up inside me. The judge banged the gavel, silencing the room, then looked at me. “Defendant, do you have any objections to the DNA report submitted by the plaintiff?” I looked up. “The DNA report is real. I don’t deny I am her daughter.” The judge continued, “Then regarding inheritance rights…” With bloodshot eyes, I pulled a document that shouldn’t have seen the light of day from my bag and held it up. “However, I still have inheritance rights!” 2 I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “Because, besides the notarized will, I also have a notarized adoption agreement left by my grandparents!” This sentence plunged the courtroom into shock again. My mother’s smile froze. She looked at me in disbelief, her voice trembling. “Ava, what adoption agreement?” “Impossible! How did I not know about an adoption agreement? My parents never told me.” I looked at her coldly. “Of course you didn’t know.” “This agreement was signed specifically with you by my grandparents when I was 10. You were just too busy with your new kids to read it carefully.” “The agreement clearly states that you voluntarily gave me up for adoption to my grandparents. From then on, they exercised guardianship and support obligations, and you no longer had any responsibility for me.” This agreement was notarized and legally binding. I handed the yellowed document to the judge. “Your Honor, from the day I was adopted, I had no legal mother-daughter relationship with her. My legal parents were my grandparents.” “Since she signed the adoption agreement, she lost custody and rights over me long ago. Similarly, she has no right to deny my relationship with my grandparents because of biology.” Another commotion in the gallery. The whispers grew louder. “A real adoption agreement? What a twisted family.” “Signed the agreement and still came back for the inheritance? That’s thick-skinned.” “Look at that girl, her hands are shaking. She must be heartbroken…” “No kidding. I bet she didn’t plan to use this until her mom aired all that dirty laundry.” I looked at my mother, stunned in the plaintiff’s seat. “You can’t believe it, can you? When you pushed me to my grandparents to please your new husband, did you never think of today?” “You say I’m your daughter, but do you deserve to be a mother?” “When I was ten, you changed my status to your sister, made me take the bus alone while you picked up someone else’s daughter. Did you treat me as a daughter then?” “When I had a fever of 104 and Grandma called for help, you hung up saying you had to watch cartoons with your daughter. Did you treat me as a daughter then?” “Now you remember I’m your daughter?” “Is it because I’m graduating and can be free labor? Or because I’m in the way of you dividing the inheritance for your new son and daughter?” I got more agitated as I spoke, 11 years of grievance and anger exploding. “How dare you use a DNA test to deny my relationship with my grandparents?” “They raised me. They gave me a home when you abandoned me.” “And you are just a stranger who gave birth to me and threw me away!” My barrage of questions left my mother trembling, pale, lips quivering without a word. The judge carefully checked the adoption agreement and the will, asked a few key questions, then banged the gavel. Silence. I held my breath, waiting for the verdict. The judge announced: “The court finds that a legal and valid adoption relationship exists between the defendant Ava and the decedents, evidenced by the notarized adoption agreement.” “Simultaneously, the plaintiff, as the biological daughter, failed to fulfill support obligations during the decedents’ illness without valid reason.” “The defendant fulfilled major support obligations, and the decedents left a notarized will explicitly gifting the property and all assets to the defendant.” The judge scanned the room, eyes landing on my mother. “Therefore, the judgment is as follows: The plaintiff’s claims are dismissed. The property and all assets under the decedents’ names belong to the defendant, Ava. The plaintiff has no inheritance rights.” “This judgment is final and effective immediately.” Bang! The gavel fell. My mother blacked out and collapsed onto her chair. Her husband rushed to support her. Her daughter screamed hysterically: “My dowry is gone!” Her son’s face turned green, kicking the chair next to him. The gallery erupted again, this time all condemning my mother. I stood up, straightened my clothes, bowed deeply to the judge. Then, holding my evidence and the verdict, I walked out of the courtroom. But just as I stepped out, my wrist was grabbed tight. I looked back. It was my mother. She had woken up, the pallor gone, replaced by a tearful look. She pulled my hand, begging. “Ava, my good daughter, Mom was wrong. Mom shouldn’t have fought for the house. Forgive Mom, okay?” I shook her off hard. “Don’t call me daughter. I have nothing to do with you.” “Also, the judge ruled. The house is mine. You have no right to covet it.” My mother wiped her tears. “I know, I know!” Then, she tried to kneel before me. I blocked her quickly. Her husband and stepchildren stood nearby, looking ugly but not stepping forward. Seeing she couldn’t kneel, she slumped on the ground. She cried and complained. “Ava, I never told you, but Mom has had it hard these years.” “In that house, I have to watch your stepdad’s mood, take care of your stepsiblings. If I don’t get this house, they’ll look down on me. I can’t stay there anymore!” I interrupted: “Stepdad? Was he a dad to me for one day? Did he fulfill any responsibility?” My mother ignored me, continuing her wailing. “Just pity Mom, give the house to Mom. Mom will make it up to you later, buy you whatever you want!” Watching her act, I felt nauseous. I sneered. “Make it up to me? With what?” “Make up for 11 years without a mom? Or make up for being treated as your sister?” “I’m telling you, I don’t need your compensation, and I definitely don’t need your fake tears!” 3 The lawsuit was over, and I had to return to college. Unexpectedly, my mother followed me to campus. She acted like a different person, running to my school every day. Bringing breakfast in the morning, waiting at the cafeteria at noon, following me to the dorm at night. She dressed plainly, hair combed neatly, greeting my classmates enthusiastically. “I’m Ava’s mom. We had a misunderstanding before, I’m here to make amends.” My classmates looked at me strangely. Every time, I ignored her, throwing her gifts on the ground. “Stop acting like a loving mother. You’re bad at it.” But she acted like she didn’t hear, coming every day, playing the long-suffering mother treated cruelly by her daughter. But I knew, for a selfish person like her, the kindness was an act that wouldn’t last long. Sure enough, after a week of my indifference, she showed her true colors. That night, she blocked me downstairs at my dorm, the gentleness gone. “Ava, don’t be ungrateful! I’ve done so much, what more do you want?” “You must give me the house. I promised to sell it for your sister’s dowry!” “If you don’t agree, I’ll have no status in that house. Are you going to watch me suffer?” I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms coldly. “What does your suffering have to do with me?” “You chose to remarry, you chose to please them. This outcome is your own doing.” “As for your promise to that daughter, that’s your problem. Don’t bother me. She’s not my sister. I won’t give you an inch of the house.” My mother was furious, pointing at my nose. “You ungrateful wolf!” “I carried you for ten months, and you won’t even help with this? If I knew you were this cold-blooded, I shouldn’t have given birth to you!” I fired back without weakness. “Yes! You should have aborted me, saved me from seeing your disgusting face now!” “From the day you put me on the register as your sister, we had no kinship.” “Now that Grandma and Grandpa are gone, we are completely cut off!” Speechless, my mother stared at me for a long time, then suddenly smiled viciously. “Fine, Ava! Since you’re so heartless, don’t blame me for being nasty!” I thought she was just talking. The next morning, she made a scene in front of the main building. She held a sign: [Ungrateful Daughter Ava Occupies Grandparents’ Inheritance, Drives Biological Mother to Death] She cried and screamed, attracting a crowd. “Everyone look! This Ava, a junior here, is heartless! She took the inheritance that should be mine and kicked me out! I’m homeless!” She picked her words carefully. “I painfully sent her to live with her grandparents so she could have a good life. Now they’re gone, she turns her back on me, won’t even acknowledge her own mother!” The crowd grew. “Ava? The one from Economics? She won a national scholarship last year.” “Yeah, didn’t expect her to be like this. Stealing her mom’s inheritance.” “I’m in the volunteer club with her. She looks quiet, didn’t know she was so cruel.” “You never know a person’s heart. Who knows what she does to roommates? Better be careful.” Listening to the gossip, I felt calm. After everything, I was numb. Soon, my counselor saw me. He walked over quickly, frowning sternly. “Ava, what’s going on? Your mother is making a scene, it looks very bad!” “The whole school is talking about you. Handle this quickly, or your scholarship and awards will be cancelled!” I looked at him calmly. “I did nothing wrong. Why should I handle it?” “She’s lying, slandering me. I’m the victim.” The counselor was angry. “Right or wrong, she’s your mother! Get her to leave! We can’t have this disturbance!” “If you don’t handle it well, don’t blame the school for following regulations.” He threatened me with my scholarship. I knew this was the effect my mother wanted. She succeeded. But only halfway. I sneered. Since she wants a scene, I’ll give her one. I went back to the dorm, opened a document, and wrote down everything. From changing my status to “sister” to remarry, to abandoning me. From ignoring my grandparents’ illness to stealing the house after their death, and finally slandering me at school. Every detail was clear. Titles? Easy. [Shocking Twist! Mother Abandons Daughter to Remarry, Steals Inheritance After Death, Slanders Daughter at School! Who is the Real Monster?] I printed hundreds of copies and walked to the main building. My mother was still crying there, surrounded by students. I said nothing, went to the third floor, opened the window, and threw the papers down. “Read it, everyone! Justice is in the hearts of the people!” Students caught the papers. The murmurs died, replaced by gasps. “OMG, so that’s it!!” “This mom is ruthless. Changing her daughter to her sister to remarry.” “Poor Ava. Abandoned and now slandered.” “Taking a pic and posting to the confession wall to clear her name. Call me a hero!” My mother saw the papers, her face changing instantly. She tried to snatch the evidence from students, but there were too many. Students stopped her. “Auntie! Stop twisting the truth!” “Exactly! Too much! How dare you make a scene here!” They pointed fingers at her. My mother looked at the accusing crowd, then up at me. She knew she lost. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed, arrogance gone. The counselor started scolding me. I turned. “Sir, I can’t swallow insults.” “I don’t care about awards, but I care about myself, about justice. I had no choice.” The counselor fell silent, holding a copy of my statement. He read it for a long time, pushed up his glasses. “I’ll handle the school side.” “Student Ava, you’ve been wronged.” I went downstairs, walking up to my mother. I looked down at her. “I’ll tell you one last time. The day Grandma and Grandpa died, we were done.” “From now on, we have no connection. If you harass me again, I’ll call the police.” I turned and walked away, never looking back.

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My billionaire biological parents finally came to take me home. My neighbors tried to warn them, saying I was a jinx, a walking disaster, and anyone who got close would suffer bad luck. They didn’t believe it. They insisted on taking me back, just to make me a scapegoat for their fake daughter, who had been cyberbullying the richest man’s heiress. Day 1: The fake daughter, afraid I’d steal her spotlight, tried to frame me but ended up falling down the stairs and getting a concussion. Day 2: My biological brother, trying to protect the fake daughter, threatened me to livestream a false confession. He ended up nearly strangled by a tangle of loose wires. Day 3: The richest man in the city came knocking, thinking I was the troll who harassed his daughter. He sent a squad of goons to ruin me. But before they could even get within three feet of me, a freak hailstorm pummeled them half to death. I walked away without a scratch. The billionaire’s revenge rebounded onto my biological parents. With their business teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, my “noble” parents were crying and begging my adoptive parents to take me back. “Please! We’ll give you anything! Just take this jinx back!” 1 When my wealthy biological parents came to pick me up, my neighbors and adoptive parents gave them fair warning: “This girl of ours, she’s got a strange fate. Bad luck follows her.” “You better think clearly before taking her.” The rich couple dismissed it, even looking annoyed at the superstition. “Stop spreading this nonsense. We’re her biological parents. We’re taking her home, not harming her.” I sneered internally. These two probably didn’t even recognize me. When their luxury car rolled into the village, I was just coming home and overheard their phone call. “Chloe, honey, you know we’re only bringing this biological daughter back to take the fall for you.” “You cyberbullied the daughter of the richest man in the city. This is the only way.” “Don’t worry, once the anger dies down over there, we’ll kick her out immediately.” “By then, she’ll probably be too ruined to function anyway.” The girl on the other end finally stopped throwing a tantrum. “But when she comes back, you can’t be nice to her.” “Your only precious daughter is me.” They agreed repeatedly before hanging up. Knowing the situation, I actually felt a pang of sympathy for this poor biological daughter. What kind of bad luck did she have to end up with parents like these? Turns out, the joke was on me. “Sure, let’s go back.” “I won’t be staying long anyway.” I got into the car with my wealthy bio-parents. As soon as we left the village, their faces changed. My biological mother, Mrs. Vance, scrutinized me: “Your name is Ava, right?” “We are respectable people in Capital City. You have to follow our rules when you come home.” “You will only be an adopted daughter. Chloe is our real daughter. You must yield to Chloe in everything. If she’s unhappy, you’ll be punished according to family rules.” I looked at her calmly: “Maybe my adoptive parents didn’t explain it clearly just now.” “My fate is weird. Anyone who treats me badly or wrongs me will have bad luck.” My biological father, Mr. Vance, scoffed: “Stop fear-mongering and spreading superstition. You can fool those country bumpkins, but don’t try to scare us. Watch your skin!” As soon as he finished speaking, the car started swerving erratically, spinning and drifting on the highway as if possessed. The couple screamed and clutched their seatbelts. The driver frantically tried to correct the steering, but it was futile. The car flipped. A huge rock fell from nowhere, smashing through the roof right where the Vances were sitting, tearing off chunks of flesh from their arms and legs. The smell of blood filled the cabin. Screams echoed. I shook my dizzy head and looked at them: “I told you, you’d have bad luck. Why didn’t you believe me?” “Look, flesh and skin all torn off.” I shook my head, tsk-tsking. “So tragic.” The couple was shocked, terrified, but mostly angry. “This is an accident! Just an accident! Stop gloating!” I shrugged indifferently. The rescue team soon got them out. They were about to be loaded onto the ambulance. But the stretcher fabric tore twice. Getting into the ambulance, the door slammed shut without warning, nearly severing their feet. After all that tossing and turning, their injuries worsened. As the ambulance prepared to leave, they didn’t forget to yell at the driver: “Remember to send her home! I don’t believe she’s this jinxed!” 2 I rode back to Capital City in the rescue team’s car. Since the driver and I were fine, after a thirty-minute observation, he took me home. He handed me over to the butler. Then he handed the phone to the butler, with Mr. Vance on the line. Even from a distance, I could hear his roaring voice. “Alfred, teach this unfilial daughter a lesson for me.” “Because of her, the Madam and I are stuck in the hospital. Make her learn the rules.” The butler’s eyes turned fierce. After dragging me into the living room, he threw me to the floor. “You hurt the Master and Madam. Time for you to taste the family discipline.” I stood up, rubbing my sore arm, and kindly reminded him: “Hitting me brings bad luck.” “I’d like to see what kind of bad luck.” He lashed at me with a whip made of wire. Good advice is hard to give to a man seeking death. Somehow, the wire got tangled in the socket of a decorative lamp. The socket was live, and a short circuit happened instantly. I even saw blue electric sparks dancing on the butler. “Ahhhhhhh…” Servants rushed over hearing the noise, cutting the power and saving him. The butler pointed a trembling finger at me, eyes overflowing with malice. The next second, a servant’s phone, which was being used to call an ambulance, fell from the second floor and smashed directly onto his nose. It broke his nose bridge instantly. “Ah!” Another scream. The driver stood at the door, mouth gaping. “That works too?” I smiled at him. “The butler is out of commission. Who are you handing me to now?” “I think I should just show myself around.” The driver nodded dumbly. “Miss Ava, please go ahead.” Hearing the noise, Chloe walked out of her room. Our eyes met. Hers were full of disgust. “You’re the biological daughter?” “Just in time, I have a party to attend.” I smiled brightly: “That’s great.” Chloe’s expression froze, her breathing heavy with anger. I thought she was taking me to a restaurant. Unexpectedly, she brought me to a bar. Inside the private room, a group of young men and women were smoking, looking like trouble. Chloe pushed me in, the smile on her face almost solidifying. “Brothers, this is the biological daughter my parents found.” “If she’s confirmed as the real heiress, I won’t have money to treat you guys anymore. What should we do?” The leader, a guy with dyed yellow hair, smashed a beer bottle. “Daring to steal our little sister’s identity.” “We have plenty of ways to fix her. Get some nude photos, and she’ll be our dog.” Chloe crossed her arms, looking like she was ready for a show. Yellow Hair signaled his boys: “She looks pretty good. Boys, we’re eating well tonight.” Yellow Hair pulled up a girl with a numb expression from the floor. He smiled sinisterly at me: “She’s your precedent!” “Baby, talk to the new member.” The girl nodded, looking at me with empty eyes: “Be obedient like me, and you’ll suffer less.” “Otherwise, the brothers can turn you into a rag.” She pointed to a room at the end of the suite. “If you get taken in there, there won’t be anything left of you.” I looked at the half-open door, smelling something foul. I sighed and looked at Yellow Hair: “I sincerely advise you not to touch me.” “I have something magical about me. In high school, bullies tried to extort me. Before I could take out the money, they got struck by lightning.” “A college classmate didn’t like me and tried to trick me into a trap. Result? A police raid. She got arrested for procuring.” I looked at the punks and persuaded patiently: “I have a bit of bad luck on me, but one thing is certain: those who want to harm me will be ten times unluckier than me.” Yellow Hair laughed out loud. “Then I really have to see how unlucky I can get.” 3 Yellow Hair grabbed my hair, dragging me towards that separate room. The numb-eyed girl closed her eyes in fear. Chloe crossed her arms, ready to watch. But the next second. The glass door of the room shattered instantly. Countless shards exploded, piercing into Yellow Hair’s body. “Ahhhhhhh…” Screams filled the room. His lackeys weren’t spared either; some got glass in their eyes. I only got a scratch on my hand. Chloe’s eyes widened: “How is this possible?” The door was kicked open, and a group of police rushed in. “We received a report of illegal activities here.” “Don’t move! Hands on your heads, squat down!” In the end, it was proven we had nothing to do with it. Chloe and I were picked up by my biological brother, Ethan Vance. Chloe cried as soon as she saw him. “Boohoo, I just took sister out to play. I don’t know how we ended up there.” “Brother, I didn’t do anything bad to her.” Ethan, who doted on this sister since childhood, naturally comforted her a thousand times over. “Of course not you.” “Arrange a room for her first.” Chloe nodded repeatedly, but the malice in her eyes never disappeared. She led me to the third floor. Randomly pointing at a room, she said I could stay there. Before I could see where she pointed, a force came from behind and to the side. I slammed into the railing. But Chloe, who pushed me, twisted her ankle and fell backward. “Ah—” She rolled all the way down to the first floor. Ethan heard the noise and rushed over, seeing the unconscious Chloe. His hair stood on end with rage. “You… you dare do this to Chloe!” “Police! People like you belong in jail!” I spread my hands, helpless. “Brother, you might not believe it, but I didn’t do it.” “She tried to harm me, so she fell down herself.” Ethan roared at me: “You think I’ll believe that? You’re definitely jealous that Chloe replaced you for over ten years!” I was too lazy to explain further to strangers. The police arrived quickly. Very coincidentally. It was the same officer from the station I just left. He immediately checked the home surveillance. Chloe was smart; she had the servants cut the cameras before trying to harm me. But unluckily, because of the butler’s electric shock earlier, the house wiring short-circuited. The camera on the third floor coincidentally started working again. “Harming others only to harm oneself.” “This is a family dispute. Mr. Vance, do you wish to pursue this?” Ethan looked at me with fire in his eyes, but it was like punching cotton. He had nowhere to vent. He forced a smile at the officer. “Looks like a misunderstanding. Sorry for the trouble.” Judging by that smile, he hated my guts. Chloe was sent to the hospital. Diagnosis: concussion. Ethan met Mr. and Mrs. Vance at the hospital and learned why I was brought back. Thinking of the bad luck surrounding me, he decided to change tactics. “If force doesn’t work, we’ll use soft power.” “We absolutely cannot let the billionaire Mr. Sterling find Chloe.” “Why not make her publicly apologize online for the cyberbullying? That way, even if something happens, Sterling will target her first, not Chloe.” 4 The parents agreed. Ethan returned late from the hospital. This time, he wasn’t alone. He brought my best friend from high school, Mia. In high school, no one wanted to play with me because of my bad luck. Only Mia didn’t care. Every time something bad happened, she’d find a way to smooth it over. Then continue being my best friend. Later she moved, and we lost touch. I didn’t expect Ethan to find her. Mia grabbed my hand the moment she saw me, begging. “Ava, please help me. My mom is sick and hospitalized, we need a lot of money for surgery.” “Your brother said if you help him with some livestream, he’ll pay for my mom’s bills.” She cried so pitifully. My compassion was moved instantly. I knew Ethan’s plan. Scapegoat me, right? Such a big detour. Impressive. But I had no choice. It was Mia. “Fine, I’ll be the scapegoat.” “As long as you’re happy.” Mia froze. “What scapegoat?” “Didn’t he just ask you to do a livestream?” Before Mia could ask more, Ethan’s men grabbed her. Covered her mouth. “We set up the phone. Remember to admit to cyberbullying the billionaire heiress, Tiffany Sterling.” “After the stream, we’ll let your friend go.” Mia’s eyes widened. She bit the hand covering her mouth and shouted at me: “No!” “Ava, I don’t want the money! Don’t admit it!” “You’ll be cursed to death, retaliated against!” “You can’t mess with these people!” I pursed my lips helplessly: “But your mom needs treatment.” “My family has no money, but they do.” “It’s just a livestream. Let’s do it.” Ethan had Mia gagged, afraid she’d sway me. My disgust for him was deeper than for the other Vances. They didn’t know how to use soft knives like he did. Livestream on. Ethan bought a lot of bots to flood the room. He even prepared a script for me to read. “I, the eldest daughter of the Vance family, publicly apologize today.” “I cyberbullied Tiffany Sterling, spreading rumors about her chaotic private life with male celebrities, cheating…” Ethan listened, his smile widening. The bots attracted a large number of real viewers. Hearing “cyberbullying,” the audience stayed to curse me. [Shameless! Hate you cyberbullies. Jealousy is ugly.] [Women really are the worst enemies of successful women.] [Why don’t you die? Tiffany is such a good girl, now getting hate because of you.] [Streamer, my hands are itching. I want your address to pay you a visit.] Ethan was engrossed in the comments, unknowingly walking towards my phone stand. There were lights on both sides, wires crisscrossing the floor. He stepped on one without noticing. Next second, he rolled like a bowling ball towards the equipment. The unplugged wires, due to some uncontrollable factor, spiraled around him. Starting from the neck, round after round. Strangling him until his eyes rolled back and tongue stuck out. “Help…” “Save…”

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In this life, I have been close to marriage twice. The first was a passionate whirlwind, set to marry the head of the Sterling Group, a man standing at the very pinnacle of wealth. The second was calm and natural, leading to my current marriage with my gentle and considerate husband, Dr. Caleb Reid. Back then, I was young and stubborn, believing love should be pure. I refused to share a man with another woman. I cried and fought over it, finally leaving London in a fit of pique. I followed Caleb to the Scottish Highlands, settling in a desolate forest research station. For three years of marriage, Ethan Sterling’s people never lost contact. Every month, a private jet delivered rare orchids. The attached card always bore the same sentence: “When you’ve had enough, come back.” I never responded. Until last night, when Caleb confessed that he wanted to move his ex, Lydia, and her daughter into our home. I stared at the gloomy Scottish sky outside the window, silent for a long time. Finally, I picked up my phone and messaged the number I hadn’t contacted in three years. “Come pick me up. I’m ready to go home.” 1 My assistant, Mia, spoke with a trembling voice: “Miss Ava, are we really going back to London?” I stood up and walked to the window, pushing it open. Outside was the eternally gray sky of the Scottish Highlands. “I lost the bet. What else can I do but go back?” Mia was silent for a moment, then sighed: “If only Professor Reid hadn’t met Lydia. He used to seem so devoted!” The “Professor Reid” she mentioned is my current husband, Caleb Reid. Three years ago, Caleb was just a young scholar who had recently received his tenure, but he dared to fly to London to propose to me. At that time, I set two conditions. First, no one mentions the past. We never ask about it. Second, I am possessive and cannot tolerate a third party. He can only have me as his woman for the rest of his life. Caleb held my hand and swore on his mentor’s photo: “I pledge on my honor to always put you first in my heart.” I looked at the sincerity in his eyes, but Ethan’s words echoed in my mind: “Ava Lane, do you think changing the man means he’ll love only you forever?” I was too young and stubborn back then, not even giving the Sterling family face. Just because there was always a childhood sweetheart around him, I gave Ethan the cold shoulder for a whole year. He said he wouldn’t marry anyone but me; I said I’d rather die than marry him. The Sterling engagement party was postponed again and again, dates changed seven or eight times. People in our circle gossiped, but no one guessed the reason. Ethan protected me and never explained to the public. After our last fight, he must have been truly exhausted, so he compromised. “Fine. Marry whoever you want.” But he made a bet with me. If one day, the husband I carefully chose also had a woman he couldn’t let go of, that would be the time I returned to him. Outside, a fine drizzle blurred the view through the glass. Standing outside the studio door was a woman in her early thirties wearing a beige trench coat, holding a six or seven-year-old boy’s hand, looking pitiful. That was Lydia. Caleb’s doctoral student, and his “white moonlight”—the one who got away. Years ago, Lydia dumped Caleb to marry an investor so she could go abroad for further studies. Now divorced, she returned with her child to do research, isolated and helpless in these highlands. I’ve always been soft-hearted. At first, I pitied her situation and asked Caleb to help arrange accommodation. Until last month, when Caleb went to Edinburgh for an academic conference, Mia casually mentioned: “Professor Reid changed his desktop wallpaper. It looks like a photo of Lydia and her son.” That’s when I suddenly woke up. Who would have thought Caleb had already rented an apartment for Lydia in town behind my back and prepaid six months of rent? These past few days, Lydia has been coming to my studio every day, crying tears like pear blossoms in the rain, saying she had nowhere to go, begging me to take them in. I wouldn’t relent, so she wouldn’t stop crying. “Of course she’s persistent. She knows in her heart that as long as she moves into this house, I have to leave. Then the position of Mrs. Reid will be hers.” Mia realized suddenly: “Right, she knows about the bet you made with Mr. Sterling.” Lydia looked up at that moment, meeting my gaze through the glass door. I looked away expressionlessly. “Let her stand there. It’s the last day anyway.” “Why?” “Because…” Before I could finish, hurried footsteps came from the end of the corridor. Caleb, carrying his laptop bag, strode to the door in a few steps. He pulled Lydia and the child behind him. “Lydia! Why are you here?” Because today was the day he returned from his field expedition. Lydia went limp, slowly collapsing into Caleb’s arms, starting her old tricks again. She had used this move more than once. Caleb panicked, quickly supporting her, then turned and glared at me through the door. “Ava! While I was gone, is this how you treated her? No matter what you say this time, I must bring Lydia and the child home!” With that, he supported her and turned to leave. Mia stomped her foot in anger, shouting at the door: “It’s not like Miss Ava asked her to come! She stood here herself every day!” My heart was calm water. I reached out and closed the studio door, shutting out the wind and rain. “Forget it. We’re leaving soon anyway.” “Let him do what he wants for these few days. Consider it a period for this marriage.” 2 In the Scottish Highlands, the climate is cold and damp. Even ordinary plants struggle to survive. Delicate flowers from London would wither here in days. So on the 15th of every month, a private jet would land at the nearest airport, delivering rare plants that could only survive in a greenhouse. Orchids, phalaenopsis, never the same kind twice. They were sent by Ethan. He knew I didn’t like to be disturbed, so he never appeared in person. He only sent flowers with a brief card. Considering Caleb’s feelings, I never responded. Until yesterday, when I broke the rule. It was the 15th again. A black business van stopped punctually at the studio entrance. “Miss Ava, these are lilies of the valley Mr. Sterling just ordered from France.” I reached out, gently touching the white petals. “They’re beautiful. Please thank him for me.” The butler delivering the flowers was clearly stunned, then smiled. “This is the first time Miss Ava has replied in three years. Mr. Sterling will be very happy to know.” I curled my lips and said nothing more. If Ethan was truly as devoted as they said, he wouldn’t have watched me leave back then. Caleb stayed in Lydia’s rented apartment all night. The next morning, he came to settle accounts with me, looking exhausted. “I specifically asked you to take care of her before I left. Is this how you take care of people?” I didn’t look up, continuing to organize the design sketches on the shelf. “She has legs. She came here herself.” Caleb exploded, sweeping the sketches off the table. “Ava! Do you know she cried all night last night? She even had an asthma attack!” Papers scattered everywhere, a mess. I stopped moving and was silent for a moment. Even if Lydia had an asthma attack, she brought it on herself. What did it have to do with me? “I told you many times, she’s only staying for a few months until she finds a suitable apartment! She asks for nothing, didn’t even want you to know!” Caleb’s voice gradually lowered. He turned around, his tone turning cold: “You went too far, worsening her condition. I must bring her back to take care of her.” I said nothing, squatting down to pick up the drawings, holding a few in my arms. Suddenly, I laughed. “What about me?” “You are still my wife, still Mrs. Reid.” I looked up at him, my eyes moist. “No, I mean, I gave up a lot for you too. Why did you never think of compensating me? Or is your compensation bringing your ‘white moonlight’ into our home?” Caleb froze, looking down at me, a flash of guilt in his eyes. He reached out to help me up. “Ava, don’t be like this. It’s just temporary. Besides, you know Lydia, she’s not a stranger.” “Whether she’s a stranger or not isn’t important.” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, my voice terrifyingly calm. “What’s important is what you promised me back then.” Caleb met my gaze, his eyes darting away, finally gritting his teeth: “But before I came back, I also promised her I’d give her a place to stay.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Then bring her.” I heard my voice floating lightly, as if from far away. Caleb stood there, seemingly not expecting me to agree so readily. I turned to look at the two pots of lilies of the valley on the windowsill, somewhat distracted. It was only September. I shouldn’t have ordered custom winter coats so early. I wouldn’t be wearing them anyway. “The weather is getting cold. I ordered some clothes a while ago. You can give them to her as my welcome gift.” I pointed to the unopened new clothes in the closet. Caleb paused: “Give them all to her? What about you?” With my back to him, my fingertips tightened slightly: “I can buy new ones.” Caleb finally relaxed, his tone lighter. “Right, you have good taste. I’ll accompany you to Edinburgh another day to buy some jewelry as compensation.” Before leaving, he finally noticed the two pots of flowers on the windowsill. “Lilies of the valley? I didn’t know you could grow these in the Highlands.” “I heard Mr. Sterling has been acquiring this flower globally recently. Seems like he’s planning a wedding.” 3 I froze. “Ethan is getting married?” A string in my heart that I thought was secure. Snapped instantly. Caleb replied casually: “I heard it from a friend in London.” I was in a daze. He was getting married? I didn’t notice when Caleb left. Sitting at the workbench, I clenched my fists, whispering to myself. I didn’t know if I was asking Mia or myself. “Do you think he’ll still come?” Mia wasn’t sure either. After all, the last time I saw Ethan, he personally put the plane ticket in my hand. That day, his eyes were red, stubble on his chin, clearly hadn’t slept all night. When handing over the ticket, he gripped it so tight his knuckles turned white. His voice was terribly hoarse. “Ava Lane, if he treats you badly in the future, you must give me a chance to bring you back.” I never thought he would really let me go. After a long silence, I took the ticket and said nothing. Only when heading to the boarding gate did I look back at him and nod gently. But now, three years had passed. I waited for three whole days and didn’t get a reply from Ethan. Three days later, while I was organizing and packing in the studio, my phone suddenly rang. Mia glanced at the caller ID, her face changing. She whispered: “Miss Ava, it’s the private number from Sterling Group.” My heart constricted violently. I picked up the phone, and a deep voice came from the other end. “Ava.” Just one word, and I almost cried. “Mmh.” “I got the message.” He paused, no emotion in his voice. “The day Caleb brings her in, I’m coming to take you back to London.” My hand holding the phone trembled slightly. It took a while to find my voice: “Okay.” 4 The night before Lydia moved in, she came to me with a fruit basket. I let her in. Her eyes were swollen from crying, looking desperate. “Miss Ava, without Caleb, you still have family, better options. But without Caleb, I really have nothing.” I didn’t touch her fruit, just looked at her calmly. “You’ve been smart since you were little, good at calculating, never showing weakness easily. You didn’t wrong me, nor Caleb. You only wronged yourself.” Lydia froze, her crying stopping abruptly. I signaled Mia with my eyes. Mia reluctantly handed her a jewelry box. “This is a gift I prepared for you before. I intended to give it to you when you actually got married. Now…” I paused and stood up. “Take it now. From now on, we don’t owe each other anything. Take care.” Lydia stared blankly as she took the box, bowed deeply three times to me, and left holding the item. The night Caleb brought Lydia in, because Lydia was a single mother with no relatives, he had to invite colleagues from the research station and university to scrape together a few tables. Originally, Mia and I planned to hide upstairs and not show our faces. We closed the door to pack. Halfway through, Caleb sent someone up. He said some guests from London arrived suddenly and insisted on seeing the hostess, asking me to go down and deal with them. Mia looked disdainful: “Someone came all this way just for a move-in? These people are too much.” My hands paused, suddenly realizing something. Hurriedly changing into a decent dress, I pushed the door open and walked out. The house was decked out with colorful lights tonight, brightly lit, shadows moving. I walked quickly downstairs. Turning the corner of the stairs, I stopped abruptly. The living room was noisy with chatter and clinking glasses. And Ethan stood in the middle of the living room, in a perfectly tailored dark suit, cufflinks shimmering under the lights. The light hit his face; his features were sharper than three years ago. He was talking to someone but seemed to sense something. His gaze suddenly crossed the noisy crowd and locked onto me accurately. Then, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. Very lightly, very slowly, he mouthed words to me. I saw those five words clearly. “I. Came. For. You.”

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

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What’s it like having a face that just screams “mean girl”? I volunteer at a soup kitchen, and people spread rumors I’m trying to snag a rich kid. I help a lost child, and I’m accused of kidnapping. Even helping an old lady recycle bottles, I get doxed online for “littering.” My reputation precedes me, making me unemployable right out of college. So, I hung up a shingle and started my own business: specializing in shutting down holiday guilt trips. On opening day, Julian Carter, a university professor, knocked on my door: “My mom is too nice. All our relatives have borrowed her retirement savings. I need a ruthless wife to lay down the law.” “Harper Lee, six figures. Are you in?” I slapped the table, eyes gleaming: “I’m in! I guarantee they’ll cough up every last penny!” 1 I applied a perfect coat of ruby red lipstick in the rearview mirror, flicking the ends up. “Professor Carter, let’s be clear: I’m in this for the money, not morality.” “Once we step inside, I’m your fiancée. Except for your mother, I don’t give a damn about anyone’s feelings. If they get a heart attack, the medical bills are on you.” Julian adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Ms. Lee, that’s exactly what I need.” His voice was exhausted. “My mom is soft-hearted. After my dad passed, the relatives never stopped coming. This year, my Aunt Betty and her family of five moved in a week before Christmas, treating my home like a free resort.” “I… I have no other choice.” “As long as you can get rid of them and protect my mom, I’ll hand you the sledgehammer if you want to tear the house down.” The car pulled into an upscale gated community. Even through the window, I could hear the raucous noise coming from the Carter family’s standalone villa. “Mary! These cherries aren’t sweet! Turn up the heat; if my grandson catches a cold, can you afford to pay for it?” The foyer was a disaster zone. The imported rug was covered in sunflower seed shells and muddy footprints. A heavyset woman sat cross-legged on the sofa, spitting shells onto the floor. Next to her, a chubby little boy was scribbling with markers on a landscape painting on the wall. It was Julian’s father’s relic, incredibly valuable. Julian’s mother, Mrs. Carter, wearing an apron and holding a mop, voice trembling: “Aunt Betty, you can’t draw on that painting…” “So what if he draws on a piece of paper!” Aunt Betty rolled her eyes, scattering shells onto the freshly mopped floor. “My Timmy likes it, you should be honored!” “Julian is so rich, why would he care about a broken painting? Mary, it’s this stinginess of yours that drove your husband to his grave!” Mrs. Carter’s eyes were red rimmed, her hands shaking as she gripped the mop. Julian’s face was ashen. I reached out and stopped him. I tossed my faux fur coat over my shoulder and clicked my four-inch heels over to the sofa, looking down at Aunt Betty. “Showing up empty-handed is one thing, but bringing your own trash? Julian, these are your relatives? They look like refugees, and they smell like sour milk.” Aunt Betty froze, sunflower seed shells falling onto her shirt. “Who are you? It’s none of your business, outsider!” I laughed coldly, linking my arm through Julian’s and pressing myself against him. “Who am I?” “I’m his fiancée. The mistress of this house.” Mrs. Carter looked at me in shock. Aunt Betty’s jowls quivered with rage. She sprang from the sofa, pointing a finger at my nose. “You little tramp! Who are you calling refugees!” Slap. I swatted her hand away, eyes icy. “Point that again, and I’ll snap it off.” “Want to stay here? Fine.” “Carpet cleaning fee: two thousand. The painting on the wall: eight hundred thousand.” “Cash or card?” Aunt Betty backed away in fear, looking at Julian. “Julian! Look at this shrew you brought home! She’s trying to kill your own aunt!” Julian pushed up his glasses and sighed. “Aunt Betty, Harper has a bad temper. She handles all the money in the house.” “I can’t do anything. If I don’t listen to her, she beats me too.” Aunt Betty clearly hadn’t expected Julian to be so spineless. Her usual tactics for manipulating the Carter mother and son weren’t working today. “Fine! Julian, you’re a real man now! Bringing home a tigress to oppress your elders!” Aunt Betty’s eyes darted around, and she flopped back onto the sofa, slapping her thighs and wailing dryly. “My poor brother! Look at the widow and orphan you left behind, now being ridden roughshod over by an outsider!” Little Chubby Timmy joined in the commotion, grabbing a marker and throwing it at Mrs. Carter. “Bad woman! Don’t bully my grandma! I want KFC!” The marker hit Mrs. Carter on the forehead, instantly raising a red welt. She clutched her head, instinctively apologizing: “Timmy, don’t be mad, Auntie will go buy it…” I grabbed Mrs. Carter. “Mom, you sit down.” I pressed her back onto the sofa, turned to stare at the brat, and smiled at him. Timmy was scared and burrowed into Aunt Betty’s arms. “Want KFC?” Timmy emboldened himself and yelled: “Yes! A family bucket! Two big burgers!” “Sure.” I pulled a thick red envelope from my bag. Aunt Betty stopped wailing, her eyes glued to it. “My niece-in-law is so sensible.” She immediately put on a smiling face and reached out to grab it. “Julian is a big professor, he earns a lot. A small red envelope wouldn’t be presentable.” I twisted my wrist, dodging her dirty hand. “What’s the rush, Aunt Betty? This is for the child.” I squatted down, waving the red envelope in front of Timmy. “Say something nice, and it’s yours.” Timmy stared at the thickness of the red envelope, drool practically dripping. He shouted at the top of his lungs: “Hello, sister-in-law! Sister-in-law is so pretty!” “Good boy.” I stuffed the red envelope into his hands. Timmy tore it open and dumped it out. Rustle rustle—— A pile of colorful waste paper fell to the floor. Expired KFC coupons, and a few supermarket flyers. The room went dead silent. “Waaah——!” Timmy reacted, his crying shaking the roof. He laid on the floor rolling and kicking. “Liar! Big liar! I want red money!” Aunt Betty’s face turned purple with rage. She jumped up, pointing a trembling finger at my nose. “What is the meaning of this? Playing us with waste paper? Do you think we’re beggars?” I stood up slowly, dusting off my hands. “Aunt Betty, that’s not right. The child wanted KFC, these coupons are the thought that counts.” “I heard you when I came in, saying Julian earns a lot.” I sneered, looking at Julian. “Professor Carter, didn’t you tell Aunt Betty?” “Your salary card is with me. You have to apply to me for fifty bucks for cigarettes.” My gaze swept over them. “Every penny in this house is mine.” “If I want to give waste paper, I give waste paper. If I want to give air, I give air.” “Not a single dime leaves this house without my nod!” Aunt Betty gasped for air, turning to yell at Mrs. Carter. “Mary! Are you just going to watch this shrew bully your own family?” “This red envelope must be given today! One dollar less, and this Christmas is canceled!” “And the three thousand I lost playing cards, you make it up to me!” Mrs. Carter flinched in fear, looking at Julian. Just as Julian was about to speak, I sat down on the expensive solid wood coffee table, crossing my legs. “Canceled? Good!” “I didn’t want to celebrate anyway. Let’s settle accounts.” “Carpet cleaning fee, the painting on the wall, and the hit on Mom’s forehead.” “Emotional damage and medical expenses, let’s round it up to a hundred thousand.” “No money?” My eyes went cold. I grabbed the crystal ashtray and smashed it on the floor. Crash! Glass exploded. Timmy’s crying choked in his throat. “No money, then leave this brat here to work off the debt. Our house happens to need a toilet scrubber.” The room was dead silent. The shards of the crystal ashtray glinted coldly, one piece landing right by Aunt Betty’s foot. She shivered in fright. “You… you wouldn’t dare! This is a society under rule of law!” Aunt Betty yelled, her voice strong but her insides weak, her throat trembling. “Rule of law?” I smiled, pulling out my phone and opening the calculator. “Aunt Betty knows the law, so let’s go by the law.” “Trespassing, damaging property, disturbing the peace, intentional injury.” I didn’t look back. “Julian, call the police. I happen to know Chief King in this district, they’ll be here fast.” Hearing “police,” Aunt Betty’s face turned pale. “Don’t, don’t, don’t! Why call the police on family!” She immediately put on a smile, changing faces faster than flipping a page. “Julian’s wife, Aunt Betty was just joking with you.” “This child is ignorant, I’ll beat him later.” As she spoke, she gave Timmy two light pats on the butt. Timmy was about to wail but was glared back by her. Aunt Betty forcibly changed the subject: “Um… Mary, is dinner ready? I’m hungry.” Just as Mrs. Carter was about to get up, I pressed down on her shoulder. “Hungry?” I glanced at the coffee table piled high with fruit shells. “Ate so many cherries, and you’re still hungry?” “Since you’re hungry, eat something filling.” I ordered Julian: “Go cook a few packs of instant noodles. Don’t use the flavor packets, they’re expensive.” Aunt Betty’s face turned green: “Instant noodles for Christmas dinner?” I shrugged: “Don’t want to eat? Then starve.” Dinner. Aunt Betty’s family of five sat around the table, slurping plain noodles in clear broth. Their eyes looked ready to swallow me whole. Julian, Mrs. Carter, and I sat at a small side table, eating luxurious takeout. Abalone risotto, braised pork belly, boiled shrimp. The aroma filled the entire room. Timmy drooled with greed, reaching out to grab a shrimp. Smack! I hit the back of his hand hard with my chopsticks. “Ah!” “No manners,” I said coldly. Aunt Betty slammed her chopsticks onto the table. “Not eating!” Her eyes darted around, landing on Mrs. Carter, finding a way to turn the tables. “Mary, after dinner, the old rule, play a couple of hands of cards?” “It’s Christmas, let’s liven things up.” Hearing “play cards,” Mrs. Carter’s face instantly turned pale. She whispered an excuse: “Aunt Betty, I… I’m not feeling well, let’s not play.” “Oh, not feeling well?” Aunt Betty picked her teeth, speaking sarcastically. “You were pretty energetic when eating abalone! Afraid of losing money?” “Julian earns so much, and you care about this little bit of money?” “Play with your elders. If you don’t play, it’s unfilial!” Julian was about to stand up in anger, but I kicked him under the table. I wiped my mouth and stood up slowly. “Mom’s not feeling well, she really can’t stay up late.” I paused. “Aunt Betty is right. It’s no fun without playing a couple of hands during Christmas.” I walked over to the card table, pulled out a chair, and sat down grandly. “I’ll play for Mom.” “How big do you want to play?” Aunt Betty exchanged a greedy look with two other relatives. “Sure, niece-in-law has elegance. Let’s play.” “Our family is poor, can’t play too big. Three-card brag, ten-dollar ante, no limit.” Julian leaned in, whispering: “Harper, they cheat…” I gave him a look. “Don’t worry.” “When it comes to being crazy, I’m a professional.” The game began. Mrs. Carter stood nervously behind me, hands clasped together. Aunt Betty shuffled the cards, looking at me like a fat sheep. “Niece-in-law, show the money first? Save you from denying the debt if you lose.” I pulled a black card from my bag and slapped it on the table. “Fifty thousand.” “If you have the skill, take it all.” I lit a cigarette, smoke curling. I stared at Aunt Betty’s greedy face, blowing a smoke ring. “If you lose and can’t pay.” “I have a bad temper. I’ll chop off hands.” At the card table, Aunt Betty’s triangular eyes gleamed, exchanging glances with Second Cousin. I laughed, playing idly with a shard of crystal glass, seemingly indifferent. “Aunt Betty, this money is hot. Careful you have the life to take it but not the life to spend it.” For the first few hands, I deliberately let them win. A few thousand dollars quickly went into Aunt Betty’s pocket. The flab on her face jiggled with laughter: “Oh my, niece-in-law, your card skills are no good! Young people just can’t keep their cool.” Mrs. Carter was sweating with anxiety behind me. Julian stopped her, pushed up his glasses, his gaze fixed on the card table. “Again.” I slapped the black card on the table. “Ante doubled, one thousand.” Aunt Betty went crazy with joy: “Call! Of course I call!” This hand, she got three Kings. Her breathing turned heavy, eyeballs red, certain I had nothing. She brought this deck of cards; they were marked. “Niece-in-law, don’t call this hand. Save yourself from losing your family fortune,” she advised hypocritically, hands pressing down tight on her chips. I blew out a smoke ring: “I’m just stubborn.” “I’m all in.” I pushed all the cash in front of me, along with that fifty-thousand-dollar card, into the center of the table. “Eighty thousand here.” I stared at her. “Aunt Betty, dare to call?” Aunt Betty was stunned. The money in her hands added up to only a few thousand. She looked at the three Kings in her hand, a winning hand. Greed swallowed reason. “Call! I call!” She slammed the table, face turning liver-colored. “I don’t have that much cash…” “No money?” My eyes swept over her. “No money is easy.” I pulled out prepared A4 paper and an inkpad from my bag. “Aunt Betty’s old house in the city, the ancestral home grandpa left, market value eighty or ninety thousand.” I slapped the paper in front of her: “Sign, press your fingerprint, the house as collateral. Win, eighty thousand is yours. Lose, the house belongs to Mom.” Aunt Betty hesitated for a second. That was her lifeblood. She looked down at her cards, three Kings. Unless I had three Aces, she couldn’t lose. Second Cousin had just discarded two Aces! This hand was a sure win!

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My boss laid me off right before the holidays and refused to give me my year-end bonus. I fought him in court for half a month and finally got my money. That night, I slept soundly, clutching my phone with the beautiful bank balance on the screen. But when I woke up the next morning, I was dumbfounded. My money! My money was all gone! Overnight, the numbers evaporated. $88,888 turned into $8.88. I grabbed a knife and went straight to my boss. “Speak! Did you steal my bonus?” “It must be you, you old bastard! You conspired with accounting to claw the money back!” “My money! Give me back my money!” I nearly chopped the office to pieces before the police arrived. They checked the company’s records and found an unaccounted-for transaction. My boss hemmed and hawked, refusing to explain the source. Instead, he slapped me: “Bitch, take the money and get out!” “Don’t come scamming me again. If you call the cops one more time, I won’t give you a cent, you beggar!” I couldn’t take it anymore. Screw him! Even a saint has limits, let alone someone suppressed for eight years. In a fit of rage, I grabbed my boss and jumped off the building with him. Falling through the air, I suddenly regretted it. I need to be alive to spend the money! I was so confused! When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my boss handed me the compensation check. 1 “Take the money and get out!” “It’s just a layoff, not your life!” Mr. Curly’s voice rang in my ears. Accompanied by a splitting headache, I realized I had been reborn. He spat towards my face while dragging me and shouting loudly. “Everyone, come look! The big hero who sued the company is back!” Instantly, my colleagues’ gazes were drawn to Mr. Curly. He pushed me in front of everyone: “This is our great hero, Bella Swan.” “Everyone, take a good look at her face. Spread the word about her later.” “After all, she’s the shameless one who ruined everyone’s year-end bonus for her own selfish gain. If you have complaints, don’t come to me, go to Bella!” Worthy of being a boss. In a few words, Mr. Curly incited everyone’s emotions. People were already pointing fingers at me. Some stopped working to glare at me. “Is she sick in the head?” “Does she think she’s cool, playing the ‘Gen Z rectifying the workplace’ card?” “She wishes she were Gen Z. She’s pushing thirty and unwanted. Even men avoid her. Disgusting trying to act young at her age!” “Exactly, a scheming old woman. The company culture is ruined by people like her. Toxic!” Vicious curses came at me, more intense than in my past life. But I didn’t care. I just wanted my money. In my past life, I had a fierce temper right after the lawsuit. Before Mr. Curly could slander me, I pulled out evidence of him docking employees’ pay for years. The employees exploded, surrounding Mr. Curly for an explanation. Forced into a corner, Mr. Curly had to pay out some money to calm everyone down, including my compensation. I deposited it that night, checking the balance repeatedly before sleeping. The next morning, I tried to buy some things for my house, but the payment failed due to insufficient funds. I thought it was a system error, but it kept failing. Opening the banking app to contact support, I froze at the number. “$8.88” Overnight, my balance went from $88,888 to $8.88. And I hadn’t touched it. A friend in accounting told me Mr. Curly was beaming today. “He looks like he’s on drugs, face glowing, smiling at everyone.” Remembering his malicious look when I left, I snapped. I took a knife to the company. Later, Mr. Curly and I fell to our deaths. During the fall, Mr. Curly screamed that I was crazy. He yelled in despair: “Bella, are you sick?! I told you that money has nothing to do with you! Why frame me!!!” “I gave you the compensation, what more do you want? What kind of grudge makes you pull me down with you…” His complaints stopped abruptly as we both crashed and died. Opening my eyes again, I pondered. Mr. Curly’s scream didn’t seem fake. He was about to die; he had no reason to lie. So who took my money? And why was he beaming? I shook my head, vision blurry. “Hey! Bella! I’m talking to you! Are you stupid?” Mr. Curly’s voice pulled me back from my memories. Under everyone’s gaze, three large sacks were placed in front of me. To disgust me, Mr. Curly deliberately changed the money into small bills and coins. Just counting it would take all day. In my past life, unwilling to be humiliated, I flipped the table and demanded a direct transfer. But in this life, I thought cash was great. Fantastic! This much money is heavy. Hard to move without strength. I’d sleep hugging these three sacks tonight. Surely my money wouldn’t disappear this time? I sat down happily, ignoring the disgusted looks, and started counting bill by bill. All day, I did nothing but squat in the lobby counting money. It got dark. The company was closing. Under the urging of Mr. Curly and Finance, I finally counted the last stack. I rubbed my waist and stood up, swaying. “Hiss… correct. $88,888. Not a penny more, not a penny less.” Mr. Curly lost his temper completely. He had never seen someone as thick-skinned as me, fussing over money to the point of losing face. I thought he should go eat sh*t. Yes, I fuss over this money because it’s mine. He, the boss, docks employees’ bonuses. Workers look forward to this bonus all year. Docking it is like killing their parents. Of course I’d sue! I strapped one sack to my chest, one to my back, and carried one in my hand. Three bulging bags. Under Mr. Curly’s disdainful gaze, I rode my e-scooter home. Home, I counted again. Still the same. I thought about today. Didn’t offend Mr. Curly too much, didn’t expose his dirty laundry. He wouldn’t risk crime to harm me. Didn’t deposit the money. It’s in bed with me. I’d feel it if it went missing. No card to be swiped, no thief sneaking in. I closed my eyes, hugging the sacks tight. This time, my money is finally mine. But when I opened my eyes the next morning, I was dumbfounded. My money! Where is my money! Where did it go!!!? The three sacks were empty. Not a dime left!!!! And my account balance was $8.88 again. Just like my past life! I fainted. What is happening? I protected my money so well, how is it gone again? How did it disappear? I couldn’t figure it out. Trembling, I called the police. The police were baffled too. “You’re saying you suspect your boss broke in and stole your money?” I nodded firmly: “Yes. My money is gone, and he’s my prime suspect.” “Besides my dispute with Mr. Curly, I haven’t offended anyone. I can’t suspect anyone else.” To convince them, I showed the judgment. “Look, officers. This is my labor dispute with Mr. Curly.” “I worked for him for eight years. He laid me off at year-end without a bonus.” “He even led the rumors against me, insulting me in front of employees, just so I wouldn’t get the money.” For insurance, I recorded everything since my rebirth yesterday. Mr. Curly’s ugly face was captured frame by frame. Now it was useful. I played it for the police, pointing at his face: “Look, when I left, he mouthed: ‘Stupid bitch, even if you take the money, you won’t keep it. It’ll be gone before it’s warm!’” “Doesn’t this show he had designs on my money? Without outside interference, how could my money vanish into thin air?” I was frantic. The more I thought, the angrier I got. I wanted to roll up my sleeves and fight Mr. Curly. But in my past life, I suffered from emotional outbursts, arguing with him instead of clarifying things with the police. Resulting in my death without getting my money back. Not good. Life first, money second. Having both is best. I took a deep breath and spoke clearly: “Yesterday, after the judgment, I asked for the money. He cursed and gave it reluctantly.” “He splashed dirty water on me in front of the whole company, blaming me for their lack of bonuses.” “Combining his final curse with his usual behavior, I reasonably suspect Mr. Curly stole the money back because he didn’t want to give it to me.” I exhaled long. God knows how hard it is to suppress emotions and narrate objectively. For this money, I’m exhausted. The officer nodded. “Yes, reasonable suspicion.” “Combined with everything, Mr. Curly has a motive…” I was about to rejoice. “Then arrest him, make him return my money…” The officer continued: “But this only proves motive. It doesn’t make him a suspect.” “Unless there is more critical, substantial evidence…” I deflated instantly. Substantial evidence? What more do you need?! The video is right there! He cursed me saying the money would be gone! Doesn’t that prove he planned it? How else do I prove he stole it?! I was dying of anxiety. I can wait, but the money can’t. What if he transfers it? Then it’s really gone! Just as I was about to cry, I remembered something. A scene flashed in my mind. I screamed in joy: “I remember! I remember! I have evidence, officer!” “This time, we can definitely catch Mr. Curly!” The officer looked over. “Ms. Bella, what evidence?” I danced with excitement, pulling the officer towards the bathroom. “You can drug test me!” “Yesterday, I drank a lot of water at the company while counting money. When I got home, I was sleepy and fell asleep quickly.” “I suspect Mr. Curly drugged my water with sleeping pills, which is why I was so out of it and didn’t notice the money being stolen!” “And this apartment was company-assigned before I rented it myself. Mr. Curly, as the boss, has a spare key!” “Officer, substantial evidence! Please help me get my money back!” I started unbuttoning my pants. I wasn’t acting. Anyone seeing this would sigh that another worker has been driven mad. The officer closed his eyes: “Ma’am, please calm down!” “I’m just a police officer. Drug tests are done by forensics. Don’t take off your pants, I can’t do this!” “Oh,” I pulled my pants up resentfully. “Then call forensics quickly. I can’t hold it much longer.” Half an hour later, the results came. “Well?” The forensic doctor nodded solemnly. “Yes, Ms. Bella is right. Her body contains a large amount of sleeping pill components. This counts as substantial evidence.” “Great! Arrest him!” Soon, Mr. Curly was brought in. Seeing me, his face turned green. “Holy mother of… Bella, you again? Are you done yet!?” “I gave you the bonus, what else do you want?” “Just because you’re unemployed doesn’t mean I am!” Speaking as if he wasn’t the one who fired me. I got even angrier. New hate and old grudges combined, I scratched Mr. Curly’s face. It took effort for the police to separate us. “Cough! Order! Order! Ms. Bella! Watch your emotions!” “Before the case is filed, Mr. Curly is just cooperating. No excessive beating!” Oh?

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My uncle had no children, and he had long since written a will leaving his billion-dollar estate to me. But after his funeral, when I returned to his villa, a stranger barged in, claiming to be my uncle’s legal heir, and tried to kick me out. “All of Mr. Arthur Vance’s assets are inherited by me. Please leave immediately!” I didn’t believe him at all, thinking he was crazy, but he produced a will. Looking at two identical wills, I immediately called my lawyer. After a careful comparison, the lawyer looked at me and shook his head regretfully: “Ethan, your will is invalid.” My mind exploded. Before I could react, Leo Sterling was already sitting on the sofa. He effortlessly found the cigars my uncle hid under the sofa and lit one with practiced ease. I stared at the unfamiliar yet familiar silhouette behind the smoke, asking in disbelief: “Who the hell are you?” 1 Since my uncle was diagnosed with lung cancer, the doctor strictly forbade him from smoking, and all the cigarettes in the house were confiscated. Only my uncle and I knew about this hiding spot. How did this guy know? The man opposite me showed no expression, pointing to the name on the will. “Can’t you read? My name is Leo Sterling, the legal heir to Mr. Arthur Vance’s estate. Now, can you leave?” “Impossible!” My voice cracked. “Your will must be forged! I demand a lawyer to verify its authenticity!” Attorney Lee checked it again carefully and nodded solemnly. “This will is genuine and valid. Mr. Leo Sterling is indeed the legal heir.” The expression on my face froze instantly, shaking my head in disbelief. “How can it be true? I am my uncle’s closest relative. How could he leave his inheritance to an outsider like you?” Leo looked at me with a playful smile. “Then you have to ask your uncle why he gave his billion-dollar fortune to an outsider like me instead of a nephew who was like a son to him.” I stiffened, clutching the will tightly. Cold sweat dripped onto the paper, blurring the name Ethan Hunt. My uncle never married. He treated me, his orphaned nephew, like his own son. I grew up by his side. He sent me to the most expensive private schools and gave me the most privileged life. Before I even graduated college, he brought me into the company to learn the ropes, teaching me everything about management. Despite my older uncle’s strong opposition, he left all his assets to me, his nephew, without giving a cent to his own brother’s son. As a result, my uncle and his brother became enemies. My uncle loved me so much; he would never give his inheritance to a stranger I had never met. There must be something wrong here. I calmed down and looked at the lawyer. “I demand the video of the will signing.” For a will to be notarized, at least two notaries, a lawyer, an accountant, and a doctor must be present. This ensures the testator is of sound mind, acting voluntarily, and that the content reflects their true intent. My uncle must have been coerced. I stared at Leo, trying to find a trace of panic on his face. But he looked calm as he pulled out the video. I stared at the screen without blinking. From beginning to end, my uncle was perfectly lucid. He even pressed down so hard when signing his name that he tore the paper. My head buzzed. How is this possible? Something’s fishy. Definitely fishy! I grabbed Attorney Lee by the collar, glaring at him. “You tampered with the video, didn’t you? Your last name is Lee, his last name is Sterling (Li in Chinese context implies connection, adapted here to distinct names but implying collusion). Are you conspiring with him to embezzle my uncle’s estate?” Attorney Lee’s face changed, but he spoke politely. “Mr. Hunt, I understand your feelings, but this was Mr. Vance’s own decision. If you have doubts, I suggest you call the police or go through legal channels. Violence won’t solve anything.” I let go of him and immediately called the police. After the officers arrived, they examined the video and confirmed it was the original file, with no cuts or AI manipulation. And after investigation, Attorney Lee and Leo Sterling were not related. They had never even met before today. I was completely dumbfounded. Where did it go wrong? The will was made just a month before my uncle died. Why did he suddenly change his mind? The officer looked at my unwilling face and said in a tone half-educational, half-mocking: “Young man, look for the reason within yourself. Maybe you weren’t filial. Not just your uncle, even if it were your own father, if he’s not satisfied with you, it’s his right to give his inheritance to whomever he wants.” A crack opened in my brain. Own father? I looked at Leo abruptly, a terrifying thought growing wildly in my mind. I was forcibly evicted from the villa where I had lived for over twenty years. Before leaving, I swiped the cigar stub Leo had smoked while no one was looking. Once outside, I rushed to the hospital, taking my uncle’s stored blood sample to the DNA testing center. The wait for the results was excruciating. My uncle lived a clean life. Despite his immense wealth, he never indulged in debauchery. Aside from necessary social engagements, he lived like a monk. I racked my brains, but I couldn’t imagine he would have an illegitimate child. But if not, how to explain him changing his will to Leo? After a long wait, the results finally came out. The moment I saw them, I froze. “Biological parent-child relationship excluded.” These words were like sharp bayonets, piercing my heart. My uncle really gave his life’s work, his billion-dollar fortune, to a stranger with no blood relation? I couldn’t figure it out. I really couldn’t. Does he have something on my uncle? But the police said Leo was just an ordinary employee in a third-rate company. What leverage could he have over my uncle? Unless… they had that kind of relationship? Considering my uncle’s lack of interest in women, it didn’t seem impossible. I was almost struck dead by this thought. My mind was a mess. Was I just going to watch the billion-dollar fortune slip away? Let my uncle’s life’s work be embezzled for no reason? After dazing for a long time, I called a private investigator I knew. “Investigate a man named Leo Sterling. Go back three generations, from birth to now. Everyone he’s met, bank records, everything. The more detailed, the better. And fast.” Hanging up, I found a five-star hotel to check in. The “Card Frozen” notification sound was particularly piercing in the empty lobby. I remembered then that all my cards were supplementary to my uncle’s account. Now that the assets were given to Leo, he must have frozen my cards immediately. I could only return to the dilapidated apartment my grandmother left to my mother. There were only a few hundred-dollar bills left in my wallet. Forget next semester’s tuition; I couldn’t even guarantee food for now. Sitting in the spotlessly clean apartment, bitterness welled up in my heart. My uncle and mom were twins. When I was two, a car accident took my parents’ lives. They were very close. My uncle never wanted to sell this apartment and often came to clean it himself. He said mom’s shadow was here. He stayed single to take care of me, raising me like both a father and a mother. He treated me so well. Why would he give the inheritance to someone else? Unwilling to give up, I watched the will video over and over again. Something felt missing. My hand paused, pupils shrinking violently. I knew it. My Great-Uncle was missing from the video as a witness. Great-Uncle was the most respected elder in my maternal family. My uncle had explicitly stated that the will would only be valid with Great-Uncle present as a witness. I quickly found the video of my uncle’s first will, the one for me. Great-Uncle was clearly there. I jumped up in excitement, eager to expose Leo’s true face. I returned to the villa quickly. After banging on the door, I tried to rush in but was stopped by the butler, Alfred. “Young Master, this is no longer your home. If you make trouble again, I’ll call the police.” Seeing Alfred, who used to care for me so much, being so cold, my heart soured. I explained, “I need to see Leo Sterling. Let me in.” “Our Master has gone to bed. Come back tomorrow.” I checked the time. It was only past eight. The night life for young people hadn’t even started, and he was asleep? Just like my uncle’s elderly schedule. I waited outside all night. The next morning around seven, Leo left the villa in my uncle’s Maybach. I stopped him. “Leo Sterling, I can prove you are not the legal heir. Come with me to see my Great-Uncle right now!” Leo looked at me with a half-smile and agreed readily. “Fine. I also want to see what proof you have.” At Great-Uncle’s house, I asked urgently: “Great-Uncle, did you know my uncle gave his inheritance to this man? He wasn’t in the video. Tell me, it’s forged, he forced my uncle, right?” Great-Uncle looked at me in surprise. “I know. Your uncle told me. I was scheduled to be a witness that day, but I got into a car accident on the way out and broke my leg. But I recorded a video testimony before surgery. Didn’t they show you?” I noticed the bandage on Great-Uncle’s leg. He showed me the video. It was short but clearly stated the authenticity of the changed will. I was dumbfounded. My eyes darted between Great-Uncle and Leo. Did Leo buy him off? I blurted out without thinking: “Great-Uncle, did he bribe you? How much did he give you? How can you do this to my uncle? To my dead parents?” Great-Uncle’s face darkened, his tone no longer kind. “Ethan, what nonsense are you talking about? It was my first time meeting Mr. Sterling! I’m old, what do I need that much money for? This was your uncle’s own wish!” “No! My uncle wouldn’t abandon me!” I turned around, grabbed Leo by the collar, and glared at him. “Who are you really? Why did my uncle willingly give you his inheritance? Tell me, what did you use to threaten a dying man?” The calmness on Leo’s face finally cracked. “Enough!” He pried my hands off forcefully. “If it weren’t for you being Arthur’s nephew, I would have called the police for harassment long ago. If you keep this up, I won’t be polite!” Great-Uncle also advised me: “Ethan, I know it’s hard to accept. Your uncle must have his reasons. You’re young, your future might not be worse than his. Why bother?” “Why bother?” I looked at him incredulously. “That’s not a hundred thousand or a million. That’s a billion-dollar empire, my uncle’s life’s work. Didn’t you suspect why he changed his mind right before he died? What leverage does Leo have on you all?” Great-Uncle’s face turned completely dark. “Suspect what? Ethan, your uncle is gone. I hope you respect the deceased’s wishes!” Leo sneered. “You’re doing all this just to imply your uncle had a shady relationship with me, right? Ethan Hunt, he was your uncle. How can you slander him like that?” My face flushed red, embarrassed at being seen through. The servants and family doctor looked at me with contempt. “He talks big, but he’s just unwilling to lose the money. Slandering his own uncle as a pervert for money, shameless!” “I say, Mr. Vance must have seen he was an ungrateful wolf long ago, that’s why he didn’t leave him the money. Doesn’t he know it himself?” “Mr. Vance raised him for twenty years like a father, and he slanders him after death. Not worth it for Mr. Vance.” “Pah! Greedy, ungrateful villain. Get out, don’t dirty our floor!” A servant swept furiously at my feet, forcing me to the door. Endless grievances and humiliation surged up. I looked around with red eyes and choked out: “It’s not for the inheritance! I just want to know why he did this? Was he in trouble? Was I not good enough? Was the father-son bond of twenty years fake?” “Even if the truth is that it was his own will, I’ll accept it willingly. I don’t want to live in confusion and helplessness!” Tears fell unbidden. Great-Uncle limped over, looked at me, and sighed helplessly. “Ethan, don’t think nonsense. If your uncle didn’t love you, why would he save a huge trust fund for you?” I froze, suddenly remembering what my uncle told me on his deathbed. “Ethan, I bought a large trust fund for you. Don’t touch it unless absolutely necessary. Only the heir knows the password…” I was too sad to care about the meaning then. I just thought he left me a way out in case I failed at business. Now thinking back, my uncle was prepared. I shot a sharp look at Leo, my tone desperate. “Leo Sterling, one last time. Come with me to the bank. Prove to me if you really are the heir!” He stared at me with a complex expression for a long time, then scoffed: “Fine, I’ll go. But if it’s proven that I am the legal heir, you, Ethan Hunt, are never to appear in front of me again!” I nodded without hesitation. “Deal!”

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My dad doesn’t like me. He called me a liar, said I was just like my mother—always faking illness and playing the victim for sympathy. He only ever loved his childhood sweetheart. Growing up, I was bullied by classmates, abused by the hired help. Dad turned a blind eye. Five years after my mother’s death, I finally saw the first person visit her grave. It was Dad. He broke precedent and came home on the anniversary of her death. He handed me a legal document: A Severance of Parental Rights. “I’ve supported you until eighteen. I’ve done my duty.” I didn’t cry or scream. I calmly signed my name, ready to start a new life. Later, on my birthday, he found me holding a strawberry cake, begging softly, “Lily, please come home with Dad, okay?” I shook my head. “No.” 1 I was a bastard with no father and no mother. Mom died five years ago. My impression of Dad was blurry and strange. When I was four or five, I tugged at his coat, wanting a hug. He didn’t hug me. Later, when Mom died, I cried and screamed. He told the nanny to cover my mouth. When I grew older, Dad stopped caring about me entirely, leaving me to the nannies and servants. I missed him, so I snuck into his office building to find him, then followed him to a small, elegant townhouse. A mother and daughter lived there. The nanny who took care of me said: They were Dad’s true love and real family. And I was nothing. Growing up, whenever a parent was needed, he never showed up. In the eyes of outsiders, I was no different from an orphan. I never expected him to come with me to visit Mom’s grave today. 2 I grew up hearing that Mom was just a country girl working in a hotel. Vulgar, uneducated. She got pregnant by accident and became Mrs. Vance. But after the marriage, she was depressed because of her husband’s neglect. After giving birth to me, she suffered from postpartum depression and died a few years later. Dad only showed a little emotion towards her on their wedding day and the day she died. Other times, this woman was no different from a stranger to him. His heart belonged entirely to his true love, Elena. I’d seen Aunt Elena many times. She was gentle, intellectual, beautiful, and elegant. In her youth, she was the only daughter of a high-ranking official, but her family fell from grace due to corruption. Dad couldn’t marry her then. So he could only keep her in his heart, protecting and cherishing her. Aunt Elena was the moon, the beautiful moonlight in the sky that couldn’t be touched. Mom and I were weeds in the dirt, left to weather the wind and rain, our lives irrelevant to him. So even when he knew Mom was sick, and later noticed I was bullied by the servants, he never extended a helping hand. Because I was the product of an accident, I shouldn’t even share his blood. My existence was a permanent symbol of his betrayal of Elena. 3 When Dad took out the severance agreement, we had just finished dinner at home. Pizza and pasta. These were the favorites of Aunt Elena’s daughter, Chloe. Dad subconsciously assumed all girls my age liked pizza. I actually didn’t, but to make him happy, I ate two-thirds of it, wiped the grease from my mouth, and said it was delicious. With the severance agreement in front of me, I felt like a rat stealing oil in the gutter, instantly beaten back to my true form. “Lily Vance, you’re eighteen now. My supporting you until today is the fulfillment of my duty.” Yes. Dad wasn’t wrong. He had money. Endless money. He hired servants to take care of me, pick me up from school, prepare three meals a day, and gave them allowances to give me daily. This was his way of caring for a daughter he didn’t love. He prepared a room full of dolls for Chloe. No matter how busy he was during holidays, he would be by her side. Before she was fourteen, they traveled the world. Photos of their trips were in his wallet, in his car. That was his way of truly loving. “I know you might blame me, but you can understand Dad, right?” He sighed. I looked up and realized this handsome, dashing man had a few gray hairs at his temples. His voice was full of bitterness. “I ask myself, in these eighteen years, I haven’t mistreated you in terms of food, clothing, or shelter.” “But your Aunt Elena has followed me for half a lifetime without any status. I don’t want her to be lonely and helpless anymore. I should take responsibility and give her a home, a title.” 4 The pen glided smoothly; the paper was crisp. In less than a minute, I signed both copies and handed them to Dad. His face was wooden, perhaps from too much happiness. “Check if there are any issues.” He glanced down, then at me, his gaze strange and peculiar. “Aren’t you going to make any demands?” “In front of you, I’ve never had the right to make demands.” The Vance family inheritance, the house, the money. I couldn’t ask for any of it. If I showed even a hint of greed, Dad’s other daughter, Chloe, would be unhappy. Even though she shared no blood with Dad, the love and care she received were forever beyond my reach. Knowing my place was also saving myself some dignity. “True.” Dad sighed in relief. “Your grandfather left you quite a bit of money when he passed. That should be enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life.” I didn’t argue. Calmly, I said, “I’ll live in the school dorms from now on. There isn’t much of mine here, so I won’t be coming back.” I dug into my pocket, placed the key on the table. “I’ll tell the housekeeper to delete my fingerprint from the lock.” Perhaps my calmness exceeded his expectations, and his attitude softened. “You can continue to live here. I won’t be coming back anyway.” I stood up and put on my backpack, refusing his final act of charity. “Uncle, I have to go back to school.” The word “Uncle” came out smoothly. When I was little, in front of outsiders, he forbade me from calling him Dad. He introduced me as a friend’s child. Signing this agreement or not didn’t make much difference. “I’ll drive you.” He seemed to feel a pang of guilt again. “It’s far from here to the school.” “No need.” I smiled and declined. “The subway is convenient. I’m used to it.” 5 Actually, the subway took two hours. It wasn’t convenient at all. But Chloe had moved into an apartment near the school long ago, with Aunt Elena accompanying her. During my three years of high school, I saw them near the school more than once. I secretly followed them into the complex. Security was tight; I snuck in behind a resident. That day, I sat downstairs for a long time. Watching the figures moving in the window upstairs, imagining myself as one of them, eating with them, watching TV and eating fruit after dinner. Dad would remember my tastes, affectionately call me Lily, remind me to dress warmly for the rain tomorrow, remember to bring an umbrella, care about my grades, hire tutors for me. But the lights suddenly went out. The curtains were drawn. The whole world seemed to leave me alone again. I desperately wanted Dad’s love, almost masochistically. As a child, I pulled at him, begging him not to leave. Growing up, I imitated TV shows, hurting myself or getting sick, acting like a delinquent to get his attention. Later, I tried to please Grandpa, please the nanny, hoping they would put in a good word for me. But no matter what I did, Dad’s attitude never changed. Only when cutting ties did he feel that sliver of guilt. But just a sliver. The next day, I saw his car at the school gate, picking up Chloe. He looked high-spirited, wearing a beautiful tie, not looking like a man in his forties at all. His face beamed with a relieved smile I hadn’t seen in years. When he saw me… It froze for a second. 6 I wanted to turn and walk away. After all, my presence would affect his happiness. Walking out of the crowd of students, I buried my head, not wanting to see the reunions around me. But Chloe didn’t want to miss this chance to show off. She rushed over, grabbed me, and asked, “Isn’t your family coming to pick you up?” I knew she wanted to see me sad. I nodded calmly, granting her wish: “I have no family. Not a single one.” Mom died. Dad didn’t want me. She gasped “Ah,” as if it were incredible, then loudly called my biological father “Dad” right in front of me. “Dad, let Lily eat with us today. She’s so pitiful alone.” “What’s pitiful?” Dad glanced at me coldly. “She has money, she won’t starve. Let’s go, your mom is waiting.” I wasn’t surprised he said that. It wasn’t the first time. Grandpa said Dad was the first person besides the nurse to hold me when I was born, and the first word I said was “Dada.” They say blood is thicker than water, but for him, romantic love far outweighed paternal love. Maybe when I was an infant, Dad loved me. But as I grew up, becoming sensible and independent, his love and responsibility faded. I guess that’s where the severance agreement came from. “It’s okay, Dad. Lily is your daughter too.” “She is not.” Taking Chloe’s hand, he didn’t look at me once, completely denying my existence as his daughter. “Dad only has Chloe as a daughter from now on. Let’s go, we’ll be late.” Dragged away by Dad, Chloe looked back. She stuck out her tongue and winked at me—a provocative expression that said: “See? Even if you’re his biological daughter, so what? He can discard you for me.” Chloe knew best how to stab someone in the heart. From middle school to high school, we were in the same class. She couldn’t stand me. A big reason was we shared the same father. She was loved, grew up in a positive environment, outgoing and cheerful, but she was uniquely hostile to me. Over six years, every classmate who played with me eventually became her best friend. Chloe forbade anyone in class from talking to me, treated me as invisible, ignored my existence. Growing up, I learned this was called isolation. No physical harm, but the blow to the soul was fatal. But the current me wouldn’t be sad over such small things anymore. Surviving the last three months, leaving here forever, leaving this nominal father, was what I truly needed to do. I turned my back. Walking against the crowd. Behind me was Chloe’s coquettish voice: “Dad, what are you looking at?” “Nothing. Let’s go.” 7 After moving out of the villa, I lived in the dorm. The dorm wasn’t big, but it was clean. The single bed was narrow, but it was truly mine. Unlike the house I grew up in. It was big, tall, but standing inside, the bricks were cold, the air was still. Many nights I woke up from nightmares. Staring into the bottomless darkness, I even wished there was a ghost in the house to keep me company, to talk to me. But even ghosts have companions. I could only talk to myself in the mirror. Lights out at 10:30 PM sharp. The phone by my pillow suddenly lit up. My phone was an old model. Unlike Chloe, who changed hers every release. Low memory caused lag; it took some time to open the new message. It was from an unfamiliar number: “Lily, why aren’t you back at the villa?” That tone. I guessed it was Dad. Funny enough, growing up, I never had Dad’s contact info. I once secretly looked through Grandpa’s phone, memorized his number, and called with a trembling heart. I was eight, didn’t have a phone, so I ran to a payphone. It was raining outside the booth. Inside the receiver was Aunt Elena’s voice. She asked: “Who is this?” In the fuzzy background was Dad’s laughter. “Up you go, horsie ride for the little princess.” I hung up. Another time I called was because of the nanny’s bullying. I called crying, only to get Dad saying: “Lily, where did you get my number?” Later, he changed his number. Every time I was helpless, I called, pouring my grievances to a number that would never connect. But now, Dad texted first. I couldn’t muster any excitement. “Yes.” I replied. Dad seemed unhappy. “Even if we cut ties, you didn’t have to run away from home.” Where was I supposed to go? Don’t want me. Won’t let me leave. Was I supposed to be trapped in that cold cage without family or love forever? Where should I go to not be an eyesore to him? “Lily, stop being stubborn. This does you no good. If you think this will gain my sympathy, you’re too naive.” Rare. Dad educating me. When the nanny stripped me naked and whipped me with a hanger; when I wore my fingers raw scratching the door begging for a bite to eat. When I was almost raped by the nanny’s boyfriend, and she slapped me afterward, calling me a seductress slut like my mother. In those moments of agony and despair, how I wished he would come back and look at me. Even to scold me for being weak, for being cowardly. As long as he was by my side. But no. My pleas never received a response from him. Birthing but not raising, yet demanding I live as proudly and healthily as Chloe—Dad was a bit greedy. “Your sympathy is worthless to me, and my business is none of yours.” I took a deep breath, finally determined to mentally cut off this lukewarm kinship. “Your sympathy is worthless to me, and my affairs are none of your business.” After sending the message. I casually dragged the number into the blacklist. People who have cut ties don’t need to contact each other anymore. 8 Having made me suffer in front of Dad last time, Chloe was happy. Her targeted bullying permeated my life. Especially at school, it intensified. My seat was in the last row, alone. No one wanted to sit with me. Looking up, I could see Chloe’s back. She was always surrounded by a crowd. She raised her wrist, showing off the new bracelet her family bought her. “Pretty, right? My dad bought it specially from abroad.” “I know this brand, it’s super expensive.” “So envious. When will my dad be this generous?” “Chloe, your dad treats you so well.” After signing the severance agreement, I completely gave up hope on Dad. Whatever new clothes or jewelry he bought Chloe, I couldn’t muster any interest. But Chloe wouldn’t let me go. I didn’t know how her new bracelet ended up in my bag. When she cried and accused me of being a thief, I almost wanted to laugh. She was still so childish. Childish enough to use the same trick from childhood without getting bored. Because of Chloe’s tears, the homeroom teacher convicted me almost instinctively. “Lily Vance, theft is a serious offense. Since you did this, I have to call your parent.”

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On Christmas Eve, I was delivering food on my e-bike through a blizzard when my phone suddenly buzzed. “Sister.” Just one word, mixed with static, struck me like a thunderbolt. But I had signed a non-disclosure agreement and disappeared with that money ten years ago. I didn’t understand why my biological sister, who took the college spot I sold to her, was contacting me now. “I’m at the gate of the complex where you’re delivering.” “Mom and Dad are dying. They want to see you one last time.” The gate? I slammed on the brakes, the tires carving a black mark in the snow. A stretch Lincoln was parked at the complex entrance. The window rolled down halfway, revealing a face with exquisite makeup and well-maintained skin. Looking at that face—identical to mine in features but worlds apart in fate—my freezing red hands gripped the handlebars tightly. I didn’t understand. They sucked my blood dry to pave her way. What more could they want from me now? Breathing out a puff of white mist, I ignored her. I twisted the throttle and rode past the luxury car without a glance. 1 I didn’t even look back at the stretch Lincoln. Behind me came the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut. Chloe didn’t chase after me. Of course. Wearing a couture gown worth tens of thousands and three-inch lambskin heels, how could she step onto this muddy, snowy ground? Ten minutes later. I parked my bike downstairs at the dilapidated apartment complex scheduled for demolition. My hands were frozen stiff; I could barely unclench them from the handlebars. I struggled to untie the delivery box. My phone buzzed again. An unknown number. I knew who it was without answering. I hung up directly. Then came a barrage of text messages. “Ava, how long are you going to be stubborn?” “Dad has uremia, end-stage. He needs a kidney transplant immediately.” “If you have any conscience left, stop playing dead.” Seeing the word “uremia,” I just wanted to laugh. I really wanted to laugh. Ten years ago, they tricked me the same way. Said Grandma had a brain tumor, was dying, and urgently needed that so-called “selling price.” And the result? I stuffed the phone back into my pocket and rubbed the back of my hand, covered in chilblains. The cracks opened again, oozing blood. I climbed up to the sixth floor. Before I even entered, I heard coughing inside. I pushed the door open. A damp, moldy smell hit me. The rental, less than 300 square feet, was piled high with scavenged cardboard boxes. “Honey, you’re back?” Hearing the noise, Mark dragged his lame leg, limping over to greet me. He held a cup of steaming hot water. “Warm your hands, quick.” I looked at his faded work pants and the leg crippled by a workplace injury. A corner of the ice in my heart melted. “Mommy!” My daughter, Lily, crawled out from behind Mark with a paintbrush. She had a streak of ink on her face, smiling to reveal a row of tiny teeth. “Mommy look, I drew a big house. We’ll live there one day!” The squiggly lines on the paper depicted a villa with a garden. My nose stung. I squatted down, about to hug my daughter. The door was pounded heavily. Bang! Bang! Bang! The force was strong, urgent, carrying an arrogance that refused rejection. No neighbor in this broken building knocked like that. Mark’s face changed. He instinctively shielded me and the child behind him. “Who is it?” He went to open the door. As soon as the door cracked open, it was violently kicked wide by a foot in a black leather shoe. Mark, unsteady on his feet, staggered back and almost fell onto the coal stove. Two bodyguards in black suits walked in. Followed by… An expensive perfume scent. Chloe, in her high heels, covered her nose in disgust and walked into my “pigsty.” She scanned the moldy wallpaper. Her gaze finally landed on Mark and me. The condescending charity in her eyes stung. “Sis, you live in a place like this?” She kicked a cardboard box aside. “Come back with me. Save Dad’s life, and I’ll give you fifty thousand dollars.” Fifty thousand. To buy my kidney. Just like ten years ago, three hundred thousand bought my life. 2 The air in the room seemed to freeze. Lily, terrified, shrank into my arms, sobbing quietly. Though Mark was crippled, he stood before us like an angry lion. “Get out!” He grabbed the wrench he used for fixing appliances. A bodyguard stepped forward, reaching out to shove Mark. “Don’t touch him!” I screamed, grabbing the scissors on the table used for cutting delivery bags. I aimed the sharp tip at Chloe’s exquisite face. “Get your people out, or I don’t guarantee this face will ever go on stage to play piano again.” Chloe was startled. She instinctively covered her face and took two steps back. “Ava, are you crazy?” “I’m here to help you!” Her eyes widened, full of incredulity. “Look at this loser you married, and this little brat you gave birth to.” “Don’t you want a better life?” I sneered. “Help me?” “As who? As Chloe, the name I should have had, or as ‘Ava,’ the name that stole my life?” Hearing this, Chloe’s face paled. It was her only stain. The scar she feared most being uncovered. She gritted her teeth, pulled a check from her limited edition Hermès bag, and tossed it lightly onto the ground. The thin piece of paper landed on the cold concrete floor. “It wasn’t easy for Mom and Dad to raise you. Although the methods were harsh back then, you took the money yourself.” “You squandered three hundred thousand and ended up like this. Who’s to blame?” “Unlike me. I worked hard, I improved myself. I lived up to that admission spot.” She spoke with such righteousness. As if I really took the huge sum to party, while she was the diligent genius. I just found it absurd. Anger exploded in my chest, burning my insides. But I couldn’t get physical. For my daughter, I couldn’t go to jail. I took a deep breath. Bent down. Picked up the check. A smug smile curled Chloe’s lips. “That’s rig—” Riiiip— The sound of tearing paper. I tore the fifty-thousand-dollar check into shreds right in front of her. I threw them into the air. The confetti fell like snow on her coat worth tens of thousands. Then. I picked up the cup of overnight tea on the table. Bitter tea stems still floating in it. Splash— The brown tea water flowed down her meticulously styled curls, ruining her exquisite makeup, and dripping onto the white fur. Chloe’s scream almost lifted the roof. “Ah!! Ava! You dare splash me!” The bodyguards moved to strike. I pointed at the old camera in the corner. “There’s surveillance in this room, connected to the cloud.” “Touch me, and I’ll send the story of you buying an identity and stealing my college admission ten years ago to the media.” “We’ll go down together.” Chloe froze. She was a famous pianist. A public figure. She couldn’t afford to lose. “Fine. Very good.” Chloe wiped the tea from her face. Makeup smeared, she looked like a clown. “Ava, you will regret this.” She fled in embarrassment with her bodyguards. The hurried click-clack of high heels echoed in the hallway. Until the sound completely disappeared. Only then did I go limp, the scissors clattering to the floor. Mark walked over, asking nothing. He just silently pulled me into his arms. His embrace smelled of engine oil, but it made me feel incredibly safe. “It’s okay, Ava. It’s okay.” But. Was it really okay? 3 Three in the morning. Mark’s phone rang. It was the owner of the auto repair shop. “Mark, someone complained you swapped parts on a luxury car. The evidence is solid.” “Don’t come in tomorrow. Prepare the compensation money.” I listened to the busy tone on the phone. My hands gripped the sheets tightly. Revenge came so fast. Mark hung up. In the dark, he didn’t speak, just went to the balcony to smoke a cigarette. The glowing ember seemed to be counting down our time. Early the next morning. Mark put on his faded work clothes, pretending nothing happened. “I’m going to work. I’ll bring roast duck tonight.” He smiled honestly, exhaustion hiding in the wrinkles of his eyes. I knew he was going to beg. Or look for odd jobs at other shops. With his leg, he couldn’t find a good job. After Mark left, I sent Lily to daycare. Then, I got on the bus to the city center. I was going to end this. Outside the window, scenery flew by. When passing the famous music conservatory, my heart spasmed in pain. Ten years ago. I looked out the window like this too. Back then, I held a gold-stamped admission letter. I was the provincial piano competition champion. I was Ava, the “genius girl.” My future was bright. Until that night. My parents suddenly knelt before me. That kneel broke my spine. “Ava, Grandma has late-stage brain cancer. Surgery costs a hundred thousand.” “We don’t have money! Selling the house isn’t enough!” “But someone is willing to pay, as long as you… as long as you give up your admission letter.” Give up? Was that giving up? It was making me disappear from this world! It was letting Chloe take my name, take my life, and go to that university! I refused. I was a person; I had dreams too. But Father took out a bottle of pesticide. He stood by Grandma’s sickbed, threatening to pour the poison into her mouth. “Since we can’t afford treatment, let’s all die together!” Mother kowtowed until her face was bloody. “Ava, she’s your own sister! She’s weak, can’t do heavy work. If you don’t help her, she’s ruined!” “You have hands and feet; you can live without college!” What laughable logic. To save Grandma. For this family. I signed. I signed the severance of ties, signed the non-disclosure agreement. That night, my ID was confiscated, and I was put on a bus to a factory in the south. I pressed against the window, watching Chloe wearing my favorite white dress, smiling under the streetlight. She took everything from me. Memories sawed back and forth in my brain like a rusty blade. It hurt so much I almost suffocated. The bus arrived. City Central Hospital. I got off and took a deep breath. Cold air rushed into my lungs, making me cough violently. Following the information Chloe gave, I found the VIP ward. Through the glass window. I saw those leech parents. Father David lay in bed, sallow-faced, on an IV drip. Mother Sarah was peeling an apple for him. Chloe sat on the sofa nearby, admiring her well-maintained hands. What a heartwarming scene. I pushed the door open. Bang! The door hit the wall with a loud crash. The three people in the room looked over simultaneously. Seeing me, David’s cloudy eyes showed no joy, only calculation. Like a hungry wolf seeing meat. “Ava is here?” Sarah put down the apple, put on a loving mother’s face, and rushed over. “My child, Mom missed you so much!” “Your dad is dying; he just wants to see you.” She tried to take my hand. I dodged sideways. Her hand hung in midair, awkward for a moment, then she wiped tears again. “Child, still hate Mom and Dad?” “Didn’t we give you that three hundred thousand back then?” I stood in the center of the ward, looking coldly at this family of actors. “Mark’s job, was that your doing?” I didn’t waste words. “Get him reinstated, compensate for the loss, or no deal.” Chloe stood up. She was wearing a Chanel suit today, still noble. “As long as you agree to the typing and donate a kidney to Dad.” “Forget the job, I’ll give you a hundred thousand.” “A hundred thousand is enough for a bottom-feeder like you to spend for a lifetime.” Her tone was contemptuous, like dismissing a beggar. I stared into Chloe’s eyes. Walked towards her step by step. “You think I lived well these years with that so-called selling price?” Chloe frowned, looking innocent. “Didn’t you?” “Mom and Dad gave you three hundred thousand. You said you wanted to travel the world, didn’t want to study because it was too tiring, so I reluctantly went in your place.” “In these ten years, you must have spent all the money, right?” “Otherwise, why would you be delivering food?” I froze. Then, a huge sense of absurdity welled up. I started laughing. Laughing until I couldn’t stand straight, laughing until tears spurted out. “Hahahaha…” “Three hundred thousand? Travel the world?” I stopped laughing abruptly, grabbing Chloe’s wrist. Those were hands that played piano—white, slender, callous-free. Then. I shoved my own hands right in front of her eyes. Right in front of her exquisite face. “Open your dog eyes and look!” “Are these hands that traveled the world?” Those hands. Covered in calluses, joints swollen and deformed. The backs were red and swollen with ulcerated chilblains. These were hands that turned screws for ten years. Hands that delivered food for three years. Hands that washed dishes in winter and moved cement in summer! Chloe backed away in horror, trying to break free. “You… what are you doing? So dirty!” “Dirty?” I gripped harder. “There’s dirtier.” I turned to look at David feigning death on the bed, and Sarah looking guilty. “Chloe, ask these good parents.” “Where did that three hundred thousand go back then?” Chloe looked at her parents. “Dad, Mom, what’s going on?” Sarah avoided eye contact, daring not look at me. David turned angry from shame, roaring: “Why ask! The money is spent!” I answered for him. “I’ll tell you.” “That night, a hundred thousand was taken by him to pay gambling debts!” “The remaining two hundred thousand bought you that Steinway piano, hired famous teachers, paved your way!” Chloe froze. “Then… then Grandma?” “Grandma’s surgery fee?” I gritted my teeth, every word dripping blood: “Grandma didn’t use a cent!” “She died of pain!” “Because there was no money for surgery, the hospital kicked her out. She died of pain in that leaky shack!” “And I was locked in a black factory, didn’t even see her one last time!”

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